NICKOLAS

I steal a glance from the road, my eyes drawn to Amelia as she sits silently in the passenger seat of my sleek Bentley. Strands of her damp hair cling to her porcelain face, still wet from the rushed shower I had insisted she take. My own hair is barely dried, dark locks plastered against my forehead. I know she must be starving, her stomach hollow with hunger. But all of that has to wait. Her safety is the only thing that matters now.

She turns to look at me, baby blue eyes wide and searching as my fingers reach out to tuck an errant curl behind her ear....