There was nothing warm or genuine about his self-satisfied smile. It chilled her. So did his comment. More time with her meant more time away from his desk and the other people he watched over at work. WITSEC had black sites or the equivalent where he could help her get tougher, or whatever his ridiculous plan was.

“What about your job?”

“You are my job.”

She feared that would be the answer. But she had so many other questions. Where would she live and how would he hide her? He couldn’t think she would sit somewhere and stay quiet forever. Once she figured out how to protect Connor, she would scream the world down about Evan’s new demeanor and cult-like need to be praised. She would dismantle him and make sure anyone who had ever heard of WITSEC knew about this rogue agent.

Then there was the issue of Daria and Owen. Poor Paul. He still hadn’t woken up this morning before she left.

“Did you retire?”

“I made adjustments.” The car skidded to a stop next to a fallen tree and he looked at her. “Life is about learning to shift priorities and keep moving forward.”

“That’s what I was trying to do.”

“You. Were. Going. Backward.” His yell bounced around the inside of the car.

Her instinct was to shrink back, make her body smaller, as she tried to come up with the safest exit. She forced her body to still. “It’s my life.”

He turned off the car. “Not anymore. Get out.”

She scanned the area. The prison’s side entrance sat about twenty feet in front of them through the woods and a gate. She knew where the fencing gave and they could squeeze through. Knew because she’d tracked every inch of the outlying area and structures for signs of weakness.

That gave her an advantage but even if she got there first and somehow broke free, he would still follow. She had no car or way back. Limited clothing and no weapon.

Evan got out and circled the car. He leaned in, putting his face close to hers. “Pretend your boyfriend’s life depends on you complying, because it does.”

Biding her time. That was the game here. Talk and act like she was complying until she could come up with a strategy that protected Connor and got her away from Evan. If she ran, he could grab Connor first, before she could get to him. If she left with Evan, then ran away from him later—the option that sounded the smartest right now—she still had to get word back to Connor first to ensure his safety.

Evan knew people and she no longer took for granted that he played by a certain set of rules. Nothing confined him or reined him in. He lived like a man with nothing left to lose. No job or family . . . just her.