Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Warning Signs

I'm driving too fast down the freeway. I know it, not because I can tell, but because of the way Noah glances nervously towards me every few minutes; by the way his hand tightens over mine. I don't slow down. I have to get to Lucy. I have to find a way to make her understand, to make her see what I see, or accept the fact that I no longer hold to my sanity.

"Sophie," Noah warns, his voice tender, "please, slow down? It isn't a race. We have all the day before us."

His thumb brushes against my wrist. I ignore it.

"I told Lucy I'd be there soon," I dismiss his warning easily, glancing in the rear view mirror as I switch lanes, still too fast.

Noah sighs, his full lips turning down in a frown. I grimace. I hate to upset him, but I have no choice at the moment, and he should see that.

"I believe Lucy would understand if you were a few moments late, being concerned for your own safety." He says, his annoyance barely hidden beneath the thin layer of calm. "Really, Sophie, it isn't worth the risk if you ask me."

"Did I ask you?" I quip, my own annoyance blaring like a beacon. Beside me, Noah falls silent, his grip loosening just slightly on my hand. I bite down on my lip. I don't know what's put me in such a rotten mood. "That was rude of me," I apologize, tentatively placing my foot on the break and pushing, "Sorry."

Noah glances sideways at me, shrugging. On anyone else the gesture would be poor manners, dull and ineffective. On Noah, with his eyes burning up at me from underneath his lashes, his muscular shoulders flexing, it makes him look seductive. I frown deeper, frustrated at his obvious easiness.

"You were correct, I hadn't the right to voice my opinion."

He's being sincere, which makes his words sting all the more. I feel badly for barking at him. I've no idea why his fragility in the parking lot angered me so. Perhaps because I wished to be the one needing protection. Perhaps because I wanted to be the one being held, not the one holding.


"No, Noah," I murmur, anger in my voice for my weakness, tightening my fingers around his, "I'm sorry."