His expression conveyed horror and disgust, and it reflected in his voice, too. “It’s bad,” he told Lorenzo on the phone.
The words hung in the car like toxic mist. Bad didn’t even scratch the surface of what kind of s**t storm Talia was in. The anger Edward felt refused to abate even a little. His vision was a sea of red, his hands gripping the steering wheel were so tight his knuckles had turned white and gone numb miles ago, but he couldn’t release his grip. The alternative was punching the damn dashboard in front of him, but he feared the rage in him would be enough for the airbag to deploy in his face. A possibility he wasn’t willing to test.
Edward directed his rage to the pedal under his foot. He was driving as though the hounds of hell were chasing after them. Trey had offered to
