Page 69 of Don't Bite the Botanist
It was broken.
“I need some space, Tressa. I’ll see you around.”
Ethan blurred out of the room, and Tressa started to chase after him, but a strong hand clamped around her wrist.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Baylin said. “He asked for time, and you need to give it to him. He cares about you, Tressa. Everything will be okay, but maybe allow him some space to process what he’s been through.”
She curled her hands into fists, suppressing the urge to reach for the doorknob so she could hunt her mate down and beg him to talk with her. “Fine. I guess I can let him go hang out in the gym for a bit.”
Baylin’s computer emitted a harsh beep, and they both glanced over.
“Well, shit,” he said after hitting a few keys and pulling up a security feed.
“What?” she demanded, stalking over to his side.
“When you gave him a tour, did you show him the garage?”
She frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing on the camera. “Yeah, I showed him everywhere except the blood storage. Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure he just stole Saiden’s McLaren.”
Chapter thirty-six
Ethan
He was a vampire.
He murdered, resurrected, and abandoned the only woman he’d ever cared about.
And he just stole a $200,000 car.
Maybe it was the absurdity of the past twenty-four hours, but that last one seemed the most concerning at the moment. He couldn’t exactly explain his situation to the cops if he got pulled over.
But he’d needed to get out of that compound, and the McLaren keys had been labeled on the hook inside the garage. He hadn’t even hesitated; he took them and left.
It wasn’t like they were lacking for vehicles, and he would find a way to get it back to Tressa.
Eventually.
What he needed was a place where he could just sit and think. Preferably in a quiet location since his heightened senses were still wreaking havoc on his attention span. In retrospect, it might have been idiotic to take the car for more reasons than just grand theft auto. How was he supposed to focus on driving safely when he couldhear the birds flapping their wings above him? When he could see every squirrel hiding in the evergreen branches? When he could smell, well, everything? How did vampires get anything done when life was constantly bombarding their senses?
And how could he think clearly when a fierce burning in his soul was screaming at him to turn the damned fancy car around and drive straight back to Tressa?
Every mile that took him farther away from her only increased the agonizing feeling, but he forced himself to push through it. He was stronger than whatever vampire mate mojo kept trying to overwhelm him.
Still, it took everything in him to keep his eyes on the road and his thoughts on the task ahead.
Find a safe place.
It should have been such a simple concept, and yet, where on earth would be safe for him? In his brain-addled state, he didn’t think encountering Renata would end well. Was there anywhere he could hide that she couldn’t find him?
Home, he thought. That’s what he needed. He needed the comforting safety of the familiar. The one place that never failed to soothe his soul when he was struggling with life. He would go home.
And not the crappy apartment that didn’t even belong to him anymore. No, that wasn’t home. That had never been anything more than a place to sleep and store his shit.
Only one place would ever truly be considered home in his heart, even if the person who made it special wasn’t there anymore.
Easing back on the gas pedal since he hadn’t realized he’d crept up to almost 90mph at some point, he pulled up the map on his phone and typed in the address.
