Autumn's golden foliage was nothing but a blur falling away on either side of the road. She leaned into a sharp curve, shifted into third, and then forth. The road unfurled ahead, leading her straight to the fun house from hell.

The usual grind.

Sydney's nurturing, Broots' lame ass jokes, Jarod's games, Raines' threats, Lyle's bullshit, the creepy son of a bitch, Cox and his penchant for sniffing her and last but certainly not least, the mounting pressure of that all seeing eye, the Triumvirate.

Oh, and Jarod's games- The Pretender was worth a revisit, after all, it was his fault that her life had become nothing more than a sadistic game of child's play with a few masochist twists thrown in here and there simply for the hell of it.

A game of Jarod's Clues, complete with his notebooks- the kind with 'Miss Parker Edition' stamped on front and really, the game was unnecessary because he had the answers from day one, but like your typical three year old sociopath, the whacked out prodigy wanted a little playmate to torment.

And when he became bored with one game, he simply threw a tantrum until she agreed to play another. Jarod made all the rules up day by day and even changed them without advance notice giving Parker about as good a chance of winning as one might have against oh...kamikaze pilots or terrorists.

Jarod's latest stunt began over the summer, after her detour through that 'one blinking caution light' town to fuel up, during which, memories of ice cream trips with her mother had resurfaced.

Nostalgia. It always comes back to bite me in the ass.

Perhaps she should have paid a little more attention to the real lingering "cautions" before deciding to stop for ice cream. Nevertheless, she opened the door.

The fleeting moment of panic had been mutual when she entered the shop- just like every other rat she'd ever happened upon, he'd been as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Nevertheless, Jarod had invited her inside. And Parker had accepted the invitation.

She now realized that the wise thing would have been to cuff him and haul his ass back to the Centre. But she hadn't. Oh, no. She had teased, danced a little too close to the fire, indulged in a double rocky road cone. Hell. It wasn't even that good.

Be that as it may, the very next week, he began sending strange clues. Granted, his penchant for the cryptic and quirky had always been strange, had annoyed her, and at times, had baffled not only Parker, but Sydney as well, but there had almost always been some method to his madness. Almost.

No longer.

Photos of Jarod and Parker as children- photos which she hadn't even been aware existed- were shipped inside his trademark notebooks. Jarod had also sent cotton candy, tornado fries and a variety of flavored popcorn, all of which she'd forced Lyle to sample at gun point on the off chance that boy-wonder was attempting to poison her.

"What is all this, Syd?"
"Simple." Sydney stated upon completing his investigation of the items.
"He's searching for a lost childhood." Parker and Sydney spoke the words simultaneously which impressed the hell out of Broots.
Sydney nodded.
"Still?" Parker added.
"It's gone." Sydney began regretfully.
"And so he's just going to keep searching. Forever?"
Another contrite nod from the shrink.

It always boiled down to poor Franken-rat's lost childhood, his family, his hard luck story.

Well cry me a fucking river, Freud! I didn't have a childhood either. And I don't have a life either!

True, that little voice in her head echoed with condemnation, but Jarod bears no responsibility for the theft of yours.

She felt a pang in her gut, nearly doubled over.

The "gifts" continued through August, consisted of postcards and photographs taken at various festivals across the globe, everything from Apple Festivals around the world to the Zebra Music Festival in China. He sent hand crafted items, pieces of art here and there, more notebooks, caramel apples, deep fried Oreos and various types of funnel cakes.

Baklava arrived from Turkey along with several postcards, followed by spanakopita from Greece, zeppole from Italy, and turrón from Spain, all attached with various little notes which proved to only infuriate his huntress. What next?

She soon regretted that she even asked.
Jarod sent a note, along with a card and flowers.
Condolences.
He knew before she did that September would bring heartbreaking news. He phoned just as she entered her home to discover the items.
"I'm sorry."
"Right. My father kidnapped you, abused you in captivity for thirty-nine years, destroyed your life and your family."

And she wants to take me back there...why?

"I am so sure that you are sorry, Jarod. Why don't you go out and celebrate? Throw your own little festival."

"I am sorry. I truly am." He whispered softly. "I'm sorry for your pain. I'm not far from you...and-"

His words, though warm and sincere, couldn't penetrate the layers of ice.
At the sound of the dial tone, he decided against making his presence known. He stretched out on the floor of her basement, decided to stay close, just in case.

Identifying Mr. Parker's body had been horrific given the extent of decay but she had decided to show everyone who really had the balls in the family. She decided to 'stiff upper lip' it, be her father's daughter. Jarod observed from his hiding place inside the Centre mortuary as she nodded. Parker appeared to be doing just fine. Appeared.

Jarod listened from her basement as she finally succumbed to the sorrow the next afternoon. The sobs became laughter as she drank to escape the pain, she was shutting everyone out and this time, bolting the door and tossing the key. She didn't need anyone. Ever. Period.

He listened to the sound of his own voice on her answering machine, heard her scream obscenities- at him, at his voice. Bastard! Parker stopped the tape, tossed both it and machine into the fireplace- devoid of fire- along with several empty liquor bottles. Her home was becoming as cold as morgue. She was growing colder.

Jarod attended the memorial service, observed from the shadows as Parker spoke of the man she'd called father. What a waste. The devil was dead and she was still doing his bidding, still dancing from the strings, still searching for that gift from daddy. Love. Truth. Respect. Anything. But in the end and true to form, Mr. Parker had given his daughter the one thing he'd always given. Absolutely nothing.

October, on the other hand, brought with it several gifts.

Sydney was thrilled to receive the photos of Jarod taken during Oktoberfest in Germany, one which included him on the Frisbee carousel, another of him taken during the crossbow competition- which of course, he won, and another of him posing with typical fare that he had devoured on his visit. He sent Parker and gang a serving of every dish, schweinsbraten, würstl, brezn, and several brands of Oktoberfest beer.

The second week brought more souvenirs and plenty of photos of Jarod taken at the stratosphere in Vegas with some strange little man named after a pattern. Argyle. The shrink shook his head as he studied the snapshot of Jarod suspended 900 fabulous feet above Vegas on a ride which was appropriately named "Insanity".

"He really is crazy." Broots whispered.

October also brought a knock at her office door.
"Hey, sis. We have a hit."
Parker looked up from the picture frame in her hand.
"I'd wish you a safe flight, Lyle but frankly-"
"You're coming with us." Lyle interrupted. "The Triumvirate is pissed. Raines is not taking no for answer."
She slammed the frame to the desk, didn't even flinch when the glass cracked across her mother's face.
"That was our-"

Parker was gone before he could even say the words.

Mother.

"What the hell is in North Carolina?" Parker demanded angrily.
"Jarod." Lyle answered, gazing to the drivers' seat at his sister's face- forever set, chiseled in a look of pure contempt. "Apparently. The last hit we had there led us to him and his father."
She winced at the word "father", and Lyle was almost relieved that she could at least still feel something, even if it was pain, bitterness or even envy.

"Right. And I think we both know how that ended. We are never going to capture him. Never. I've finally realized that. When will everyone else?"
He reached for her right hand, the hand not holding the steering wheel. Feeling the warmth, she yanked her hand away.
"Touch me again, you son of a bitch, and you'll be missing more than a thumb." Parker hissed.
Lyle raised his eyebrows, he'd been stung, her words had hurt but he remained silent until they reached their destination, the location where Jarod's call originated.

Parker pulled the car onto the gravel drive and parked between two patrol cars.
"Jarod called from Dunkin' Donuts. Bastard." Parker stated dryly as she stared at the building.
"Maybe he-" Lyle was actually coming to wonder-boy's defense. He was interrupted by the tap-tap-tap on his window. Parker's twin stepped out of the car and was immediately shoved across the hood of the rental.

"Hey, Rosco!" Parker yelled towards the open door. "Careful with the car!"
"Gee. Thanks, sis." Lyle then addressed the larger deputy. "What's going on here, officer?"
"We have a warrant, Mr. Lyle A.K.A. Bobby Bowman.." The list of aliases continued on. "You're under arrest for the murder of..." The sheriff drawled out quite a list of names.
"Peachy." Parker hissed.
Another officer opened her door and asked her to step out.
"I'm carrying a concealed weapon- one which I have a permit for."
"Yes ma'am. Now step out."
Parker obeyed.
"Turn around."
"Excuse me?"
"Step inside ma'am."
Parker huffed in frustration but complied and allowed the officer to cuff her and lead her to a patrol car.
"What is going on?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
She stepped into the car and stared angrily into the distance as Lyle was led away in cuffs.

The deputy didn't say another word until he turned onto a long, winding dirt drive.
"Well, this it. Tell Jarod I said hello."
"What?"
"He asked me to drop you off."
"Here?" Her gaze drifted to the sight beyond the windshield. "Jarod wanted you to drive me to a county fair."
"Yes ma'am. They've just finished setting up." He drove around the side towards the vendor entrance, was waved through by a fellow cop. The car stopped outside the fun house. "This here is Jarod's new project."
"A fun house." Another fun house. As if the Centre wasn't enough for him. "He's inside?"
"Probably still sitting in the Reflection Room. He says it's where people think and you know, reflect on things. In a carnival? It's all kind of wacky if you ask me." The officer stepped out of the car, opened the door and waited for Parker to step out. "But then, Jarod's kind of a wacky fellow."
"Yes, he is." She growled. "Where can I find this "Reflection Room"?
"Second door on your left, uh, it'll be the short door, you know, for when Alice in Wonderland drinks the potion that makes her short."

The cop turned to climb inside the driver's seat.
"Aren't you going to un-cuff me?"
"Uh, no. That's all part of the fun."
"Fun?"
Bastard.

Parker spun on her heel, marched up to the fun house and carefully negotiated the blue and purple striped steps. She found the short door with ease and slammed her heel into it. Passing through, she realized that the "Reflection Room" was a misshaped room completely lined from top to bottom with mirrors, and not all of them were the typical distorting fun house mirrors. Most presented an accurate reflection.

She was confident she could make her way through the maze and worse come to worse, she could turn back. Just seconds after beginning her journey, plan B slammed shut behind her. Parker whipped around in shock. She turned back in search of some other way out, quickly became disoriented, slamming into one mirror after another. Turning again and again only to run into herself. And..
Mom.

"Jarod, you son of a bitch.." She screamed, certain that wherever he was, he was watching and enjoying, laughing at her just like he always had. "You will pay for this!"
"Are you asking for help?" The voice came from somewhere overhead. She glanced up only to come face to face with herself.
"Why the cuffs? Why the game?"
"It's not a game, Miss Parker. If you want help, if you want out, I'll help you. It's very simple. You hold the key."

"I don't have the key, genius!" She came face to face with another mirror and the helplessness staring back wasn't her, it wasn't. It was her mother. "And there's no way out!"
"All you have to do is ask. Just ask me."
"Go to hell."

"You're afraid I'll laugh at you, afraid I'll leave you here. Aren't you? You're afraid I'll disappoint you? Let you down? I won't do that. You trusted him implicitly and he betrayed and disappointed you repeatedly." He was referring to Mr. Parker, of course. She was still revolving in circles around her own reflection, too disoriented to right herself in the hall of mirrors. She attempted to feel her way with cuffed hands and failed. "Trust me one time, just once and I will never let you down. I promise. Give me just one of the million chances that you gave him. Just one chance. One. Tell me what you want. Free yourself."
Again, she spun, slipped along the mirrored walls, feeling with her fingertips, her mother was everywhere she turned.
"Jarod!"
"Yes, Miss Parker?"

She needed additional encouragement, which Jarod happily provided her.

The mirrored floor began undulating, the entire room began spinning around her and the walls literally began to close in. This wasn't just a house, it was a ride, motorized. She spotted a trap door, and stumbled away, finally leaning against the wall. Floor tricks. There was no trap door. It was all illusion. A lie. Like her life and the Centre, Mr. Parker.

Maniacal clown laughter, mingled with horribly distorted carnival ride music, came roaring into the room as multicolored lights began to flicker. Parker was thrown off balance- something Mr. Parker had done frequently. She could either fall or sit. She chose the latter, sinking to her knees, trying hard not to fall on her face.

She came face to face with her mother, with herself, and the memories flooded back. The gun shot, the lifeless body in the elevator. Ethan in Catherine's arms, Raines, the gunshot. Death. The helplessness coupled with pent up emotions and memories, the lights, the shifting and undulating, and that God-awful laughter and music was all too much. She was bordering sensory overload. Attempting to stand in the shifting room, up may just as well have been down and the walls were closing in. Literally and figuratively.

"You can stop this." Jarod reminded her. "Just say the word."

"Alright!" Parker's voice was strained as the mirrors began spinning past her. "Open the damn door!"

Unlike Mr. Parker, Jarod wouldn't test the boundaries.

The room became still. Quiet. Dark.

Mercifully.

"This way." His words, his closeness surprised her. Parker looked up to see Jarod entering from a mirrored door which opened from the opposite side.
"I should kill you for this."
"Yes. And that's precisely why the cuffs stay on."
He helped her to feet and led her outside.

"Why am I here?"
"Rain check. Remember? I waited for you, Miss Parker, and you never came back."
"Nebraska is a long way to drive for ice cream." She wanted to steer the topic elsewhere because she had a strange feeling that it wasn't ice cream he wanted to share with her.
"Now what." The only thing she could think to say that didn't include at half a dozen obscenities. She had decided to play nice... seeing as how she had no gun and was still cuffed.
"It's a country fair." He explained.
"Yes, I believe I have heard of those."
"But you've never been to one, never experienced all the fun."

She had wanted to though. Once. A very long time ago. The year after her mother died. Mr. Parker had promised her a full day and evening of fun. Another shattered promise. Jarod knew, had overheard her talking about bringing him along as well as Angelo.

"Never wanted to." She lied.
"Mmm, you have a little catching up to do."
"I'm not ten years old anymore, Jarod."
"Neither I am, Miss Parker. Life is passing us both by and one day, it'll be over. Are you going to keep living it for the Centre, for your father - even now, now that he is gone- or are you going to finally live your life for you?"

"You think you can pull me into this search for a lost childhood. It's gone, Jarod. Gone. You can't make up lost sleep and you can't recapture a lost childhood."
"That's right, Miss Parker. They stole our childhood, ripped it away from both of us. They continue to steal our lives, even now. Are you going to let them take what's left of my life? Of your life? Are you?"

"What the hell do you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"What? Do? You? Want? Information about your family? Answers about why the Centre wants you back? I don't have the answers. I don't know where they are or why Raines wants you back."
"I know." He whispered then looked out at the carnival rides.
"So what you do want, Jarod?"
He returned his gaze to the blue eyed mystery standing before him and slightly tilted his head. "I don't understand." He sighed. "You think I want something from you?"

"Doesn't everyone?"
Jarod sighed.
"You're right." He confessed. "I do want something from you. I've wanted it for a very long time."
"I knew it." She whispered. "Spit it out so I can get back to my life."

Life? Hardly.

"I want you to be happy, to live, Miss Parker. Before it's too late."
"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope. So, let's live, let's start now. What you want to do first? Cotton candy or caramel apples? Or nachos? Or would you like to skip ahead to the rides. I’m partial to the Himalayas, it's a fun ride with fantastic music." He explained, and she could hear it wafting through the air. Hard rock. The singer's raspy voice warning that 'nothing lasts forever, hearts can change and it's hard to hold a candle in the cold November rain.'

"But the Tilt-A-Whirl is also a blast. Or perhaps we-"

"I'm assuming that leaving isn't an option." Parker interrupted.

Jarod chuckled. "It won't hurt you to have a little fun, Miss Parker. I'll return you to your life- all in one piece and maybe even in a better mood in a few hours. I promise."
She huffed in frustration.
"If you'll behave, I'll even un-cuff you."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Maybe I'll tell you. Someday."
Parker rolled her eyes. Once again, he had the answers and once again, he was toying with her.

The singer- as stoned as he may or not have been- was right, Parker mused. 'It's hard to keep an open mind when even friends seem out to harm you.'

"Just take the damn things off."
He obeyed.
"Let's start with darts."
"Fine. Anything's better than being in that demented fun house."

Which one? He wondered. The Centre or the carnival ride? Nevertheless, he was pretty certain that she was right. Anything would be better compared to either fun houses and he was sure that the evening would be perfect. Wishful thinking? Perhaps.

"Stalled."

"Stalled?" Parker asked.
Jarod chuckled. "I'm afraid so."

Who could have foreseen that the giant wheel, dubbed "The Star Gazer", would stall and at the exact moment their bucket reached the very top, of all places.

"Look on the bright side. We have a great view."
"Yes and the people down there have a great view of us. What if someone from the Centre recognizes one of us?"
"This the giant -"
"Binoculars. If a tip is phoned in, the Sweepers will come with binoculars, surveillance and-"
"This is carnie night only. We're safe here. I promise." He smiled. "Well, let me think. You've seen the Fun House which, I know, wasn't much fun, and the Haunted Mansion. I think we should move on to the fun carnival rides when we got down from here."
"The "fun" carnival rides?"
"Yes. The Hurricane, the Super Shot Big Drop, Fireball, Foot loose, Cliffhanger, Evolution and of course, the Zipper."

"I don't think so."
"Oh, come on." You probably pick up more G's on your morning drive to work than you would on any of the rides here." He joked.

"Hmm, the difference is that it's me behind the wheel, it's me driving."

"Oh." He looked straight up into the sky, then back at her. Jarod found that the carnival lights were absolutely marvelous as they danced in her eyes. But all Parker could see was that one blinking yellow light. Caution. She was still trying to figure out the reason behind this field trip, and the soundtrack music for this scene.

She wanted to fill in all the paint by number colors and bring the final picture to life, to focus, the big mystery, the proverbial moral of the story in this twisted game of "Jarod's Clues"- "thinking chair" not included.

"I see." He said, observing Parker intently as her gaze slid along the far left edge of the fair grounds. "It's about control."
With that, she turned to him.
"Isn't everything?" She asked.

After all, she had been brought to this little county fair in cuffs and it had all been orchestrated by wonder-boy.

"So, first and foremost, whatever you do, wherever you go, it's about control? About you being in control? Nothing else matters, not as much as having control?"
"You catch on fast."
"Nothing else is more important? Not relationships? Not-"
"Jarod-"
"What happens when you lose that control? When you find yourself in a situation in which you have no control?"
"I am always in control."
"But if you weren't? What if you lost control? What if you just...took your hands off the wheel? Just once."

She still didn't quite follow, even when he leaned closer, invaded her space.
"That can't happen."
"And if it did?" He was moving in closer.
"It won't." Parker broke off eye contact, gathered her coat tighter around her.
"But if it did?" He came closer, seemed to taunt her, willing her to look at him. She refused to meet his gaze.
"It won't." She repeated.
"Why? What could the harm be in taking a chance for once?"
"Losing control, losing focus of what-" She couldn't think straight with him so close.

There it was, once again, Jarod mused, that uncertainty, the obvious look of someone who was clearly out of their element, a stranger in a stranger's land. 

Jarod was quite certain that he had seen deer caught in the beam of his headlights that appeared a hell of a lot more comfortable than Parker at the moment. He'd seen that look before, but only on the rare occasion, the latest of course sitting beside her in Ocee's. She had long lost her focus on capturing him, they both they knew that.

"Losing control and focus?" He gently reminded. He really wanted to hear this one.

Focus, Parker. Focus.

"Gets people killed." She replied evenly.

It killed Thomas. It had killed Catherine Parker and many others who had lost "focus" of Centre objectives.

"I see. Well, that doesn't sound like control to me. In fact, it sounds like the opposite of control.. to force yourself to live by someone else's rules just so you and the people you care about can live another day...and because the Centre is a threat, you switch off your feelings and any potential happiness that awaits you. And you think that is control, that you're in control?"

"Not at the moment! When the hell are we getting down from here?"

"You're going to throw a fit because you've been stuck for-" He glanced at his watch, and that one single gesture seemed to infuriate Parker more than anything thus far in the game. "Two and half minutes on a carnival ride and yet you've been held prisoner by the Centre your entire life, forced to destroy not only yourself but me and my family and anyone else they order you-"

She had been watching his breath in the cold air, trying very hard not to hear his words. The truth in his words.
"That's enough!"
"Yes," He whispered, taking her hand into his hand as he replied. She saw his eyes tearing as he continued softly. "It is."

"Since the day I escaped, I've been searching... for my family, for answers, searching for clues about both our pasts and even now, now when I've found them-"

She actually forgot to be surprised that he had found his family.

"Even now" He continued, "I'm still searching. And I..." He paused briefly. "I realized that something's missing, someone..." He paused and Parker wasn't sure if he was going to laugh or sob- it was little of both actually. "God.." He exclaimed tremulously, squeezed her hand. "The answer was in right in front of me the entire  time, all these years. Parker, it's you that I have been trying to find my way back to."

It became glaringly obvious that he was about to kiss her.

Parker's first thought: why the hell not? She could chalk it up to sweet rebellion. Against who? she didn't know, didn't care. The Centre, Raines. Lyle. It didn't matter. Any excuse would do. It felt nice, real, maybe even fun and hell, even a little dangerous, because everyone knows that rebellion can't be truly fun if there isn't some element of danger involved.

She was quite frightened to take any sort of step with Jarod- unless of course, they were stepping towards the Centre with him in cuffs.

Still, she thought briefly that a potential entanglement with Jarod was quite like the rides surrounding them.

Parker saw the individuals on the ground, waiting in line to board one of the intimidating thrill rides, looking in awe and curiosity, nearly cowering in fear at all the many ways it could go wrong, very wrong, ways it could kill.

And what if she did lose control? What if she took her hands off the wheel, just this once?

Would she be one the unfortunates to plummet?

Would she be the loser vomiting behind the ticket stand when it was all over?

Or would she be so fascinated at having survived and so blown away by the sheer intensity and danger and just how out of control and free it felt that she'd eagerly rush back for yet another go.

Maybe what she feared most was that she'd love it and never want it to end. But just like the county fair at the end of the week, the "thrill" would end. Jarod would have to leave. He'd pack up, just like the carnies. They would be moving on to the next town, leaving the grounds empty.

And he would leave her with only... emptiness.

Emptiness- the only present her father and the Centre had ever left either of them.

Or maybe it was something else, she didn't know, didn't care enough to further contemplate the next moments, not that she had a chance anyway because while she had been busy thinking of consequences and comparing Franken-boy to thrill rides, Jarod had tossed consequences and caution to the wind..

"Don't." She whispered against his lips, only a millisecond too late and she found herself surrendering, if only for a moment, to desire, to the feel of his lips on hers and his arms moving around her, to the warmth of his body. Her hands were sliding up his arms, along his shoulders.

The Big Wheel shook back to life, shook some sense back into Parker, who pulled away abruptly, her breaths coming in great, uneven, rapid gasps. Control. Focus.

"Stop this thing!" She screamed at the carnie. "Now!"

"Parker." Jarod said, trying to catch his breath and thinking of the triumph. Yes. It was a victory. Denying an almost kiss, easily done, at least for her. She couldn't deny this however.

He wanted to see her just try to deny it.

And she quickly accommodated.

"THAT... did not happen."
"Like hell it didn't." Jarod countered with a half scoff, half chuckle.
She climbed- stumbled, hell nearly fell out of the bucket seat and walked briskly across the fairgrounds, past one of the cotton candy vendors, and a ticket stand and it didn't even occur to her that she didn't have transportation, had no phone, no gun, no money and absolutely no idea where the hell she was going or what she'd do when she arrived.

"It happened!" He called from somewhere behind. "It's not the end of the world." Catching up with her, he gently took her by the shoulders. "I can create a new life for you, I can guarantee your safety. Come away with me. Tonight. Now." And she knew that he was going to really lay it on thick, make promises and plead and hell, maybe even cry and she didn't have the energy it required to resist, so she began pleading with him, before he could even begin- and she too decided to lay it on thick.

"Please.." Parker whispered tremulously, shuddering in the chilly breeze. She even turned on the water works a bit before meeting his concerned gaze with her tear filled eyes. "I want to leave now." 

Parker knew he'd feel some sort of remorse and cave. And he did after grimacing from what felt like a punch in his gut but only after another two minutes in which he stared at Parker while she appeared to be painfully uncomfortable, staring off into the distance. It took him that long to find his voice.

She wasn't sure if Jarod gasped or sighed or if perhaps it was a little of both but it was clear that her tears and the use of the word "please" had been overkill.

"You know I would never hurt you." He whispered hoarsely. "I know you were brought here in cuffs but Miss Parker, I would never ..." He swallowed hard as memories flashed through his mind. Breaking and entering, violating the sanctity of her home, reaching across her naked body to retrieve the gun, and then replacing the weapon after he removed the firing pin. He had done quite a few things against her wishes, without her knowledge.

She wanted to leave and he had no right to try to make her stay. 

And he'd been so sure that she come along with him that her rental car had been impounded.

Another rejection. Damn it.

"I'll drive you back to the Centre."

Back to the fun house, he thought bitterly. 

Bringing the vehicle to stop, he turned to her after slipping the car into park.
"If you change your mind-"

"I won't."