The drive was quiet. Both of them were waiting for the other person to speak.
Claire sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed, her gaze locked on the dark road ahead. Anton drove, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel.
Lucas wouldn't have allowed this under normal circumstances. But shit happened.
But here they are. Quiet.
Claire exhaled through her nose, staring out the window. "So," she finally said. "You gonna tell me where you really were tonight?"
Anton let out a stiff chuckle. "Funny. I was gonna ask you the same thing."
She turned to him. "I said so already. I was only bringing Isabella food."
His grip tightened slightly on the wheel. "And I was just taking a drive."
Claire huffed a laugh. "Right."
Anton glanced at her, chuckling as he spoke. "Oh really? So your story is so believable, but mine is not?"
Claire scoffed with a shrug, "I'm not the one covered in blood. How the fuck did all that even happen? Are you hurt?"
