Page 86 of Callan

“No one is following us…” I say, relieved, speaking like we’re in an action movie.

He moves his eyes away from me.

“No one will follow us. Rest easy.”

A strong hand goes through his hair.

And just in case, he looks in the rearview mirror.

I watch him, brimming with fascination.

“Mackenzie?”

“Huh?”

“Where do you want to go?”

His attention shifts back to the street while I shrug.

“I don’t know. I wanted to eat something and maybe go to the bookstore. Other than that, I wanted to see the park. It must be beautiful with the lights and fresh snow…”

My voice trails off while my gaze moves from his cheeks to his lips.

“But it’s too late for that. I bet no one is there, and it can be dangerous,” I monotonously say, my eyes still on his face.

A soft chuckle leaves his lips.

“Nothing is dangerous in New York as long as you’re with me.”

It sounds boastful, but it isn’t.

Humbleness is woven in his voice, and there is no trace of shallow bragging.

“So, it’s the park first?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say softly, leaning back in my seat.

A few moments pass while we wait for the lights to turn green at an intersection.

“The men back home…” I say, awaiting his reaction.

He glances at me before moving his eyes to the road as the lights flicker green.

“What about them?’

“They looked like bad people.”

“They are bad people,” he says, steering the wheel and entering a different street.

“What did they do to you?”

A few moments of silence pass while he ponders an answer.

“Nothing yet. I don’t think so,” he says, sounding sincere.

“They’re after you.”

“For some reason, yes. But I don’t know why.”

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