Or did that intimate look between her and Damon’s father I’d seen when I was a little girl finally make sense?
My mother had an affair with him, didn’t she? Perhaps it wasn’t only fear that controlled her.
And despite what they were willing to endure, I wouldn’t let them make that decision for me.
“We could get married,” Ethan said, his usually light and playful voice, low with a sultry tone.
And despite my nerves, I snorted. “That won’t stop him. It won’t even give him pause.”
Having a husband wouldn’t even protect me from Damon Torrance.
“Ah, shit,” Ethan breathed out.
“What?”
“Cops. Behind me.”
Cops? We’d only been driving a few minutes. I hadn’t felt the turn onto the highway yet, so we were still on my country road. There were never cops out here. I knew that, because how many times had my sister sped up and down this road as a teenager with me in the car and never gotten caught?
“Are their lights on?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“We’re still on Shadow Point?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t stop.” I shook my head. “You weren’t speeding. They have no reason to pull us over.”
“I have to stop.”
He wasn’t worried, but I slid my hands into the center pocket of my hoodie, fisting them. The only time cops were out here was when they were called. Something was wrong.
“Please don’t stop,” I begged.
“It’s okay, babe.” I felt the car slow down. “We’re adults, and we’re not doing anything wrong. We’re not in trouble.”
Reaching over, I felt for the knob I knew would be there and turned off the radio, my ears trained on any sound coming from outside. Gravel crackled under the tires, and I knew Ethan was veering off to the side of the road. He pressed the brake, my body lurched forward a little, and I planted my hands on the dash to steady myself as he shifted the car into Park.
Shit. I’d only been in a car that was pulled over once before in my entire life, and now, tonight of all nights…
A car door slammed shut, and a quiet motor hummed, telling me Ethan was rolling down his window. His shallow breathing filled the car. He was nervous, too.
“Good evening,” a male voice said. “How are you tonight?”
I recognized the voice. Small town, limited cops, but I didn’t mix with him enough to remember the name.
“Hey, yeah, we’re good,” Ethan told him, shifting in his leather seat. “Is anything wrong? I don’t think I was speeding, was I?”
There was silence, and I imagined the officer bending down to peer through Ethan’s window. I remained still.
“Kind of late to be out, isn’t it?” he finally said, ignoring the question.
The hair on my arms stood up. What did he care?
Ethan let out a nervous laugh. “Come on, man. You sound like my mom.”
“Winter?” The cop spoke up. “Everything okay?”