Page 31 of Captive of Outlaws

“What? No.” I shake my head. “That much I assumed. I meant like,whoare you? A trust fund kid? A fracking baron?”

“You know what they say about assumptions.” Rob’s teeth gleam as he grins. “But please, go on, keep guessing. This is fun.”

“A mafia...guy,” I say lamely. “Mobster.” That’s the word.

“Nope.”

“Drug lord?” Hehasbeen to jail, I remind myself. At least, assuming he was telling the truth about that.

Rob laughs a short laugh. “Oh, I kicked the stuff years ago. Guess again, pretty lady.”

I flush in spite of myself and dig back in. “Witness protection. A whistleblower. You’re the guy who invented BitCoin. You’re...Elon Musk’s secret brother.”

Rob makes a face. “Electric cars?” He thumbs the dash of the Rollerskate. “Maren, you insult me.”

Now I can’t help but grin. “Well, what is it? Because I’m seriously running out of guesses.”

Rob flicks the signal to change lanes and seamlessly merges to an exit ramp. “I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. You have a great imagination.”

“I read a lot of books,” I say absently, scanning around us to get a sense of location.

Rob pulls us in to a sort of outdoor mall, with small brick buildings and airy walkways between them. It’s quaint, discreet, and definitely out of the way.

He brakes a little too hard at the valet stand, swinging open the door and tossing the keys to the vest-wearing attendant before I can even get my seatbelt off.

“You drive stick?” Rob asks. The attendant can’t be older than seventeen, skinny as a scarecrow and with hair to match.

“Um, yes, sir,” the kid mumbles. “My daddy taught me when I was fourteen.”

“Good.” Rob pulls out his wallet and slips the kid a hundred. “Treat her nice.”

The attendant’s eyes boggle—at the bill, and at the Rollerskate. “Yes, sir!”

Rob jerks his head towards the stores. “C’mon, pretty lady.”

Before I can even respond, he’s gently but firmly placed a hand at the small of my back and started steering me forward.

It’s such a strange sensation, to have a guy escort me like that, that I slide out of his grasp on pure instinct.

Rob frowns. “You know, it’s hard to keep chivalry alive when you insist on killing it at every turn.”

I roll my eyes. “Sorry. Just...habit, I guess.” I glance over my shoulder, back down the other aisle of shops, but see no one except a few society ladies and Lululemon moms strolling casually with giant shopping bags. My pulse doesn’t quite level off, but it slows a bit. “Where are we going?”

“Again with the questions.” Rob sighs. “Don’t you trust me, Maren?”

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. Then I add, “Especially where fashion is concerned.”

Rob smirks. “Fair enough. Then you’ll just have to learn to trust Jack. Andeverybodytrusts Jack.”

FIVE MINUTES LATER, when we meet Jack, I can see why.

“Robin,” Jack breathes. “She’svibrant.”

Jack is a petite, impeccably dressed man who could be anywhere between twenty-five and forty-five—hard to say, given the sheer perfection of his skincare, the immaculate coif of his hair, and the ever-so-intentional ensemble of tight-fitted aqua blue polo, pale pink chinos, and boat shoes.

He gives Rob a smack on the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing Lauren Bacall!”

I stare Rob down, lifting an eyebrow. “Robin?”

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