Without waiting for him to respond, I hurry back into my room, where Rafe and Everett are still sleeping.
Quickly, I pull on a pair of pants and then secure them with a belt. Next comes the socks and shoes. Finally, I slide my dagger into the waistband of the jeans.
I debate, briefly, about finding a way to wake up the others, but curiosity takes precedent.
Despite everything, I believe Krys’s story. He truly is Krystian—or at least, a version of him that’s tainted by darkness.
And because of that, I don’t believe he’ll hurt me.
Actually, Iknowhe won’t.
The innate knowledge bolsters my resolve, and I hurry outside before I can change my mind.
Krys is leaning against a car I didn’t notice earlier. Has it always been there, or did he steal it?
“Where are we going?” I ask as I slide into the passenger seat.
“Kidnappers don’t tell their victims the location,” Krys points out, smirking.
“Kidnappers also don’t give their victims a choice,” I snark back.
And it was a choice. If I would’ve said no or chose to stay behind, Krys would’ve allowed me to.
How do I know that?
The knowledge comes to me easily, innately, but there’s no rhyme or reason behind it.
Is it simply because I trust Krystian, a man I barely know?
Or is there something else at play in all of this?
Questions swirl in my head, one after the other.
With a laugh, Krys puts the car into reverse and squeals away. I hold on to the seat for dear life.
What the fuck am I getting myself into?
And why am I so excited?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THEA
Krys is, surprisingly, a good singer. His smooth, rich baritone floods the car as we swerve down street after street.
“So where, exactly, are we going?” I ask for the one billionth time.
And of course, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he throws his head back and sings at the top of his lungs—some eighties rock song that is making a reemergence due to the internet and social media apps.
“It’s rude not to give your kidnapping victim more information,” I point out.
He chuckles and finally goes quiet, though I can’t decide if that’s good or bad. I actually really like his singing.
“Are you going to keep pestering me until I tell you the truth?” He slides his gaze towards me before refocusing on the road once again.
“Yes.” I nod seriously. “I can be very annoying with proper motivation.”
“Wow. I never would’ve imagined,” he deadpans.
