“Best you’ll get this week,” he wheezed, sizing us up. “Clogged with carnies. Fair’s in town.” He wore a faded ‘I LOVE CORNDOGS’ shirt and a skeptical frown. “Don’t suppose you care.”
“Room for three?” I handed him cash. He peered behind my shoulder like he expected an entourage.
“Two doubles. Kids sleep on the floor.”
“We’ll take it,” she said, looking tired enough to drop right there on the stained carpet.
Royal said a town this size would be off Matheson’s radar.
I hoped the hell he was right.
Chapter 12
Lily
Royal showed up just as I was about to get in the shower, with a bag in one hand and Mabel’s carrier in the other. “Here are some new clothes and toiletries,” he said, holding the bag out to me.
“Thank you. That was thoughtful and sweet of you,” I smiled as I took it from him.
“Don’t thank me.” He jerked his head towards the door that stood open a crack. Already having a quick shower, Ryker stood outside, leaning against the balcony railing, his eyes scanning the parking lot below. “He texted me the size of what he thought would fit you. You would be in camo and combat boots if it were up to me.” He put the cat carrier on the bed. “This little fluffball is way too attached to you.”
“Sorry,” I said, hand at the back of my neck. “I know she’s dead weight on the run. I can’t just leave her.”
Royal’s expression shifted at my words. A softer, more understanding look was now on his face. “You’re both fine,” he said, with no hint of sarcasm.
As soon as he left to join his brother outside, I took Mabel out and buried my face in her fur. She smelled like motor oiland dusty roads. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, tears in my eyes. I settled her down with a tin of cat food and a litter box nearby, then headed to the bathroom.
In the shower, I let the hot water wash away what felt like days of grime, filth, and fear. Standing under the spray, I thought about Ryker. The way he looked with rain-slicked hair in that alley, eyes full of promises he shouldn’t have made. The way he kissed me was like I was the last thing he wanted to lose.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found him standing at the window, peering through the blinds. He turned, relief washing over his face when he saw me. “Royal’s making a supply run. I think we’re good here for a few days.”
I modeled the t-shirt and snug jeans from the bag. “You know my style better than I do. Thank you.”
Ryker whistled and moved closer, taking in the sight of me, newly clean, a little raw, but still standing.
“Nice jeans,” he said, voice low and approving. He brushed his fingers against my cheek, touching the place where the bullet had grazed me. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.
He tilted my chin up and kissed me softly. “They won’t get that close again,” he said, and I almost believed it.
They’re coming for you.
The shooter’s words echoed in my mind, cold and relentless. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. “Are you sure we’re safe here? They always seem so damn close.”
“For now. But we’ll keep moving,” he replied. “They won’t catch us.”
His certainty was like a lifeline. I grabbed it with both hands and hung on.
I don’t know if I leaned in or if he did, but our lips met—soft, desperate, my breath catching in his mouth. He braced a hand on the wall behind my head, the other sliding around my waist and hauling me closer. My knees buckled all the adrenaline of the past week shrinking into this one dizzying moment.
His hands found the hem of my t-shirt and pushed it up, leaving a trail of goosebumps and fire in their wake. “We shouldn’t,” I managed, even as I lifted my arms and he stripped the fabric over my head. Forgoing my bra and underwear after the shower, I wore nothing underneath my clothes. His eyes darkened with the realization and roamed over every inch of bare skin.
“I know,” he murmured against my collarbone, “but right now I don’t care.”
His mouth was everywhere, skimming my neck, my shoulder, my breast. I shuddered as he found the spot just below my ear and bit down, gentle at first, then not. His tongue darted out, soothing the sting as my hands went to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. He brushed my fingers aside and ripped it open, sending the buttons flying.
I laughed into his mouth, and he caught the sound, swallowing it, deep and hungry. Our bodies pressed together—skin on skin, heat against heat. His hands gripped my hips, urging me back until the backs of my knees hit the wobbly motel bed. We toppled onto it, breathless, tangled, and for a moment, it might have been funny if every nerve in my body wasn’t on high alert. Scared, wanting, and needing him all at once.
