Isla Kalashnikov (P.O.V.)
Dimitri has yet to fill me in on what was going on and I was beginning to freak out. Since he got into my car and I have been driving around Los Angeles aimlessly because I was instructed to not stop, he has been talking to himself as if he was losing his mind.
“Dimitri you are going to have to tell me what is going on at some point because like it or not we will have to stop for gas soon,” I said trying to gain his attention.
“Let us go on a date.” He said out of the blue.
“What? What do you mean let us go on a date? Right now? No. Tell me what is going on first. Stop beating around the bush.” I scolded as I stopped at a red light.
I shifted in my seat and turned my body to face him.
“Come on, it will be fun. Plus, it might give us a chance to talk. You
