Orion's POV
My driver pressed harder on the accelerator. The car surged forward, the engine roaring as we wove aggressively through traffic. Other cars honked at us, swerving out of the way as we blew past them. I didn't care. I didn't care about traffic laws or safety or anything except getting to Anya.
I tried calling her back. The phone rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. Her voice—calm and professional, from when she'd recorded the message—asked me to leave a message after the beep.
I hung up and tried again.
Straight to voicemail this time. Either her phone had died, or it was broken, or—
I couldn't let myself finish that thought.
I tried a third time. Same result.
"f**k!" I slammed my fist against the car door, the impact doing nothing to relieve the help
