Watson's car was parked a short distance away and I had just pulled open the door when a gauze-covered palm slapped the door shut with a slap and it pinged shut.

My heart sank.

Watson was already in the driver's seat, and he didn't come out in this situation.

Christian had one hand in his pocket and was leaning against the car.

I didn't look up, my downcast eyes landing right on his injured hand.

"Grace, get in his car or get in mine, you make a choice today, whatever it is, I respect you."

His tone was calm, like he was saying something that was irrelevant, but it sounded...