Chapter Ten: Hit the Brakes

I always thought that expensive cars were supposed to be comfortable. I guess it wasn’t really the car that was making me uncomfortable, it was the icicle of a person beside me. I felt like melting into the seat, disappearing into refined leather, and upholstery. I was terrified that my shoes would scuff the glove compartment or nick the edge of the seatbelt, fraying it.

“What is the matter, Miss Laurence?” he finally broke the silence. He didn’t listen to the radio or music, it was absolute silence, and on top of the car being expensive, it was a hybrid which meant I couldn’t even distract myself with the purr of the engine.

This was probably the only time I cursed someone’s environmental awareness.

“Nothing,” I tried to keep my voice light, but my fists were curling beneath the seat, tension rippling through them.

“I do not appreciate liars, Miss Laurence, you would do well to remember that,”

“Why does everything you say sound like a threat?” I quizzed him. The best way to distr