The hum of the car engine had become a lullaby.
Greece's eyelids fluttered as the blur of passing lights faded into black.
At some point, exhaustion won.
When she woke, it was to the soft tap-tap of knuckles against glass.
Rhett's face hovered outside the window, pale under the glow of a flickering streetlight.
He gestured for her to step out.
She blinked, groggy. "Where are we?"
"Hotel," he said simply.
Her gaze followed his—a sign glowed faintly across the street:
"BLUE."
Golden letters, slightly faded.
"Why are we stopping?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
He didn't answer. Just grabbed a bag from the backseat, checked the gun at his side, and started toward the entrance.
Inside, the air smelled of lemon polish and cigarette smoke. A ceiling fan turned lazily overhead.
Rhett strode to the front desk like he'd done this a hundred times.
Greece lingered by the door, unsure, watching him speak quietly to the receptionist — a woman with red lipstick and tired eyes.
He pulled out a folded passport, signed something, and then took a call on his phone.
The voice on the other end spoke fast.
Rhett's tone dropped low, sharp, like a blade slicing through silk. Then — a word or two in another language.
Greek, she realized.
Her stomach tightened.
When he hung up, the receptionist handed him a key.
He turned, eyes brushing hers for a moment — unreadable, steady.
"You coming, or do you plan to sleep in the lobby?"
She frowned but followed. The hallway was narrow, dim, lined with old paintings of the sea.
"You speak Greek?" she asked after a beat.
"Something like that."
"So where exactly are we going?"
She asked curiously
"Greece."
He said flatly, without a hint of emotion
She blinked
"What" she asked surprised, half screaming, half in shock, he didn't seem surprised tho
"Is there a problem" he asked
Like...he had the nerve to ask her if there's a problem, like he wasn't taking her to another country, one she'd never been before
"Greece—as in another country?"
He didn't even slow down.
"Yeah."
"You can't just pull me out of my life and drag me to another country! I've never been out of the US before and besides, I have work tomorrow, a whole life here!"
He pressed the elevator button, jaw tightening.
"If you stayed here, you wouldn't live long enough to make it to work tomorrow or ever."
Her mouth fell open, words dying in her throat. He stepped into the elevator; after a heartbeat, she followed, huffing under her breath.
When they reached the room, he slid the key card and pushed the door open.
The suite was large — minimalist, stylish. One bed, one couch. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sleeping city.
"There's only one bed," she said slowly.
"You take it," he replied without looking at her. "I'll take the couch."
"We're… sleeping in the same room?"
"My job is to protect you and make sure you reach Greece and my boss alive and in one piece. So you stay where I can see you."
The answer was blunt, not up for debate.
She hesitated, still clutching Milo's carrier. "Right. Of course."
He pulled off his jacket, dropped it on the couch, and started checking the locks, the windows, the corners of the room. Always alert, always ready.
"What if I need to shower" she asked
"Use the bathroom" he said simply and looked at me as though I were dumb
"With u in the room" she asked again, I asked while rolling my eyes
He sighed "I have no interest in you" he said without looking at me
Ouch.....that stinged a bit but who cares, I still didn't trust him anyway, after all he just murdered someone a few hours ago in front of me
(He murdered someone to keep u alive)
My mind seemed to chip in
Uggh....fuck.... she said in her mind while slapping her forehead...
(now even my own mind is defending him)
Then she turned toward the bathroom. "Fine. But I'm locking the door."
"Do what you need." he said eyes still locked on the window, not sparing her one glance
She disappeared inside, leaving him alone with the city lights reflecting off the glass.
He exhaled once, low and tired, before settling onto the couch — gun within reach, eyes still open.