Page 32 of The Stranger
“I will when you put your seat belt on.”
I do as he asks, and once I’m buckled in, he flicks on his indicator and pulls into traffic. I use this time to take him in. Starting from that thick mane of dark hair which looks extra tousled today. His eyes are focused on the road, and I notice the slight tick of his defined jaw that’s covered in a light stubble. I’ve never seen him anything other than clean-shaven, and I have an overwhelming compulsion to reach towards him and skim the tips of my fingers over it.
He's dressed more casually than I’ve ever seen him, in a tightfitting, navy-blue Henley, which has a white collar and cuffs. The long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, so I take a moment to admire those tanned muscly forearms and powerful hands I’ve become slightly obsessed with. That’s when I see his white knuckles, caused by the death grip hold he has on the steering wheel.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask. His lips thin, but he remains silent. I roll my eyes and turn my head to look out the passenger window. I guess he’s extra growly tonight.
A minute ticks by before he says, “What time is it, Delilah?”
I lift one shoulder. I was supposed to get off at ten, but things were quiet tonight, so my manager let me leave a little earlier. “I’m presuming almost ten.”
This time, he briefly looks away from the road and directly at me. “Exactly!” he barks. “Ten o’clock in the evening, and where did I find you? Sitting all alone in the pitch fucking dark, at an isolated bus stop in the city, where all the surrounding businesses are closed. All itwould have taken was a drunk, some fucking creep, or a mentally deranged homeless person to walk past—” he bangs his hand down on the steering wheel before continuing, “—I don’t even want to contemplate what might have happened. Your complete disregard for your own safety astounds me.”
“I’ve done it several times and never had an issue.”
“Consider this the last time. You won’t be doing it again.”
“What? I’m not quitting my job.”
“I’m not asking you to, but I refuse to let you catch public transport at night.”
“I have no option.”
“You have options.”
“An Uber would cost almost as much as I earn. The bus is cheaper.”
“You have me,” he barks.
“If you think I’m going to rely on you to pick me up and drive me all the way home?—”
“I won’t be taking you home,” he says, cutting me off. “You’ll be spending your weekends with me for the foreseeable future.” My mouth falls open, and I am literally speechless for a moment.
“You’re delusional if you think that’s going to happen.”
“Oh, it’s happening,” he warns.
“You have no control over what I do outside of the office.”
“Put it this way, Delilah. If you want to continue working at that restaurant, you don’t have a choice.”
“What are you saying? If I don’t agree to your terms, you’re going to get me fired?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Watch me. I have power, an endless amount of money, and if all else fails, I know people who wouldn’t hesitate to break someone’s legs to get them to comply.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” he asks with a smirk.
“I can’t even with you right now … besides, my parents would never allow me to stay at your place … they barely even know you.”
He points his thumb over his shoulder towards the back seat. “Do you recognise that bag?”
I turn to look and gasp. “You went to my house?”
