Chapter 6

The Escalade tore through East Austin at ninety miles per hour, and my seatbelt was the only thing keeping me from climbing into the driver's seat and going faster.

Rhett's hands gripped the steering wheel with surgical precision, his knuckles white against the black leather. The man who'd been inches from kissing me twenty minutes ago had vanished completely, replaced by someone I barely recognized. Cold. Calculating. Dangerous in a way that made the air in the car feel thin.

"Nico, ¿dónde están?" His voice cut through the Bluetooth like a blade, rapid Spanish flowing from his lips with military…