His body slumped slightly in the passenger seat as he let out a weak sigh, his voice low with complaint. "What kind of bad luck is this? I can't even escape it."
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension easing between us. "I have empty rooms at home. If you don't want a hotel, you can stay there."
He immediately shook his head, lifting a hand as if to block the idea. "Hold on. I still want to live a few more years. I'll figure something else out."
As we drove, the conversation drifted naturally into the years we had missed. The bond of familiarity made it easy, like we had never really drifted apart. Then his expression changed slightly, brows drawing together as he turned serious.
"Why haven't you told Ashton about the kidnapping?" he asked. "It would be easier if he handled the investigation. He has the resources."
