The ride back to Ethan's penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of the car's engine. I sat rigidly in the passenger seat, my hands folded in my lap, acutely aware of Ethan's controlled tension radiating from the driver's side. He'd insisted on driving himself rather than calling Harrison, and now I understood why—he needed the outlet of controlling something after what had just happened.
"You didn't have to do that," I said finally as we pulled into the underground garage of his building.
Ethan cut the engine and turned to look at me, his steel-blue eyes unreadable in the dim lighting. "Do what, exactly?"
"Rescue me. Threaten Daniel. Track my location." I met his gaze steadily. "This wasn't part of our contract."
