Page 58 of By Sin To Atone

“Do what?”

“Have the nurse examine me.”

He doesn’t even glance at me. “I had questions for the doctor.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He snorts, this time he looks at me. “What’s your theory then?”

“You saw I was uncomfortable.”

“And I took pity on you?”

I shrug a shoulder, suddenly feeling stupid for having brought it up.

He chuckles. I notice his gaze keeps moving to the rear-view mirror. It makes me anxious but when I look back, nothing stands out.

“Where are we going?” I ask when I notice that instead of going back to the house, he drives toward the French Quarter.

“Dinner,” he says, checking his rear-view mirror yet again before turning off the main road.

“You’re taking me out to dinner?”

He glances at me. “It’s not a date, don’t worry.” He takes another turn.

I shrug a shoulder and sit back. That’s fine. If he wants to feed me, he can go ahead. I can always eat.

I’ve gotten to know New Orleans pretty well and I notice he’s taking a strange route that keeps us parallel along smaller streets rather than taking the straight shot into town. It’ll take twice as long this way and I’m curious why he’s doing it. I watch him, see his eyes move to the rear-view mirror again.

“Are you looking for something?” I ask.

“A parking spot. Ah.” He parallel parks with ease in front of an exclusive restaurant in a boutique hotel. I’ve seen it mentioned for their exceptional steak in various magazines I’ve perused while on my breaks at The Cat House. A line of cabs stands waiting across the street.

He puts the SUV into Park and glances once more in his rear-view mirror, then at the car that passes us. It’s a black Audi and something about it startles me. My heart pounds because I swear, I recognize it. But it can’t be. There’s no way.

“Blue?” The car slows at the crosswalk as a mother crosses the street alongside her young child on a bike. I turn to find Zeke watching me.

“Yeah?”

“Ready?”

“For what?” No. I’m mistaken. There are probably thousands of black Audis in New Orleans. I don’t even know the model. Do they all have rosary beads hanging from the rear-view mirror though?

“Dinner.” His gaze follows mine to the car which is pulling away from the crosswalk. “See someone you know?” he asks, too perceptive.

I shake my head maybe too quickly because his eyes narrow infinitesimally.

“Let’s go in,” he finally says once it disappears from view.

“Yeah, okay.” I look up at the restaurant. This is good. Dinner is good. Because whether or not I recognize the car, it just goes to show I’m not safe. Wren isn’t safe. My father knows where we are, and he’s not the only person looking for me. There’s the man who hired him, for starters, who came looking for the laptop after his arrest. If my father could find me from behind bars, then that man with more means could easily do so, too. The longer Wren and I are in New Orleans, the more dangerous this becomes.

Once we’re back in the house, I’m trapped. There’s no way I can get away. Here, maybe I can pretend to use the bathroom, slip out. I eye all those waiting taxis. There’s a chance at least.

But am I safer with him? Can he truly protect me? He doesn’t know the whole story. He only knows about my father. And what about Wren? She can’t protect herself at all.

No. I need to get away from Ezekiel St. James, get Wren and get out of town. And this may be my only chance.

“I’m starving, actually. Thanks.”

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