Page 168 of Exposé

I'm free.

"Good job."

Jumping, the blood draining from my face as I glanced up at his menacing wide form. "Just let me go."

"No can do." Nate bent over and dragged my ass from the weeds, bringing me to my feet, my eyes level with his. "We're in this together."

A softness formed around his eyes as he opened the passenger door and placed me inside then rounded the front and hopped into the driver's seat.

"This is crazy. You know that, right?"

"It’s necessary. Now buckle up. Since you seem to be so resourceful."

I shifted, heat rising in my cheeks as I pulled the belt across my chest. "And what about my car?"

“It's become a well-oiled jackpot for someone in need.”

I grumbled under my breath as he drove down the road with his lights off, then flipped them on once we hit the freeway.

"What do you think is going to happen with me, Nate?"

"All I know is that if you stick with me, you'll be alright."

Silence fell between us, nausea burning the back of my throat as I watched the scenery run by.

Putting my faith in him was a fool's errand, but what other choice did I have?

He was my saving grace or my ultimate downfall—either way, he was the storm I had no choice to stand in.

The car slowed as we pulled into the cracked, weed-riddled lot of a rundown motel. The neon sign buzzed in the silence, with half the letters burned out so it read “ote.”

I shook my head. "We aren't staying here."

"Sometimes we have to do things that make us uncomfortable."

"You've been making me do plenty of things that are uncomfortable. Why couldn't we have stayed in the hotel that I spent good money on?"

Dim yellow porch lights lined the row of doors, illuminating the sagging overhang above them. A rusted vending machine leaned against the wall near the office, and the parking lot looked like it had lost a war, with deep cracks and potholes splitting the asphalt.

"Because if I could find you there, so could they."

My wrists twitched against the cable ties, and I winced. My breathing hitched as I glanced at Nate, his jaw set like stone as he steered us into a space beside the office.

This was it.

The place where people disappeared.

The kind of place you only saw in nightmares—or crime documentaries.

What if he wanted to make me think I was safe?

That’s how he worked—calculated, patient, always two steps ahead. He gave me the illusion of control, of hope, just to make it easier when he finally made his move.

"You really are going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Jesus, Ava. I saved your life." He unstrapped his seat belt and then mine. "Don't you understand that?"

"Whatever you have to say to convince yourself you're doing the right thing." My words cut sharp, a dare more than a statement.

---