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“No, Agatha, they will. I don’t even know why the hell you want to go tonight. You’re crazy, you know? You’re going to find someone you want me to kill and I’m going to go to jail because of you.” He resorted to staring out the window and fantasizing. His hands would crawl up her sides as his knees pinned her to the seat and then he would squeeze so tight around her neck that she would—no, he wasn’t that kind of person. Deep breaths, he told himself.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’ve been worrying about this for a while now.”
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