Page 166 of Exposé

"Some place safe." He brought his hand up to the bridge of his nose and rubbed, his focus remaining on the freeway ahead. "Do you remember what you had written on your board?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just answer the question, Ava."

"Most of it, why?"

"Because you're going to write your story, but you are going to have to do it from memory."

"You want me to write the story?" I jeered, a mocking laugh bubbling up. "Says the man who had a whole camera system in my apartment? Yeah, okay."

Nate exhaled and increased the speed as I turned toward the door and put the Zip-tie in my mouth, my shoulder screaming as I stretched and gnawed on the plastic.

"Ava, for God’s sake." His tone brimmed with dark amusement. “Those are seven-and-a-half-millimeter cable ties, sweetheart. You’re not biting through them—not here, not anywhere, and certainly not sitting beside me.”

I turned and glared. "Don't call me sweetheart,sweetheart.You're aliar."

"I didn't lie to you."

"Oh, really?"

I twisted my wrists, fumbling to adjust them, my elbow smacking against the door. "Ow." A hiss escaped me.

His lips twitched into a smirk.

“Shut up.” I wriggled against the ties. “This is all your fault.”

“Of course it is." He shook his head and looked at his blind spot. "It's my fault that you stuck your nose into a project that put your neck on the line, and now mine?"

"Yours? Please. What have you done?"

"Oh, maybe broke into the Mayor's office with you."

I tsked. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"But I did."

Snarling, I bit my tongue and glanced out of my own window. "You're still a liar."

“I never lied.” His hand crashed against the steering wheel, his jaw tight, his eyes burning. “I never lied to you—not once—not even when every instinct, every ounce of my training, screamed at me to do it.”

"Okay, Not A Liar Nate. Who the hell are you?"

"Nate."

"Okay, Nate. Then tell me what you plan on doing with me?" I gave the cable ties another tug for good measure when he tore off the freeway.

His knuckles whitened around the steering wheel—his eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the dark road ahead—the tension rolling off of him in waves.

He eased the car onto a narrow dirt road that disappeared between thick trees—his focus snapping to the road sign ahead. The dashboard let loose a faint glow, and gravel crunched beneath the tires before he threw the car into park and killed the engine.

"We need to switch cars." Silence sliced between us as he scanned the dark edges of the clearing, his gaze shifting to me.

And then I'll make a run for it.

"And you're coming with me."

My stomach dropped. "What? Why?"

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