“Don't you worry, Angel, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” I tell her, not even glancing at the piece of shit, knowing Finick’s got this well in hand. Grace wipes her eyes, giving me a smallsmile before turning and looking back toward her room. She breathes a deep sigh.
“I don't know what I’m going to do now. He kicked in the door; it's completely broken.”
“I can get that fixed, no problem. Though I don't think there are any more vacancies at the motel tonight. You got any other place to go?” I ask, not knowing what the fuck I'm talking about with vacancies for this place. It could be abandoned for all I know, but a plan is forming in my head, and I have to make it happen.
“Pfft, I've been on my own since I was sixteen, no car, no cell phone, and I'm living in a motel. There is nowhere at all for me,” she states sadly but factually.
“Well, I have the perfect place.” I smile, the plan forming all in my head. Her in my house, crowding my space, and completely safe from any harm.
First things first, time to bribe Eddie.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GRACE
Iblink repeatedly, trying to clear the wetness from my eyes. I can’t believe that just happened. One minute I’m finally in bed after what felt like the longest day of my life, almost asleep, when the next thing I know, I hear a scratching noise at the door, and it slides open way too easily. After that, it all became a blur. I remember screeching and then jumping for the bed, grabbing the kitchen knife I kept on the table beside me. Before I could just threaten the man, he was there, knocking it from my hand. I looked down for something else to grab and cringed as I noticed the money sitting neatly on the scratched and weathered table.
It was payday today, so I added the meager cash to my ever-growing pile. I took it out to count, wondering if it was time to look to move on. Lately, I seem to be more noticed than unnoticed by one particularly nosey and persistent biker man. I’ve seen him lurking about when he doesn't think I know. When you’ve been used to being ignored or overlooked your whole life, you notice the instant unfamiliar eyes are tracking you. Usually, the skin crawl is a dead giveaway, but those aren't exactly the feelings I get from Jarron, or should I call him Loot or something?
Anyway, I suppose I could blame it on coincidence, given that it's a small town, and perhaps he just has a lot of business around town at the same time I happen to be there. I had thought I could go back to hiding, but of course, Eddie wouldn't let that happen. I head to town every few days for one task or another, and every time I am instructed to pick up the lunch he’s called in. He always gets a bunch of food and forces me to take the leftovers. The tiny fridge in the room is now fully stocked, and I have a variety of food for lunch for days.
That was another reason I thought of starting over somewhere new. With every kind gesture, every concerned stare, and every new meal, I become increasingly attached. But I know there will come a day when that kindness will run out, and he’ll be tired of taking on a straggler, the charity case he didn’t need hanging around. I’d rather be long gone before I see the annoyance in anyone's eyes ever again.
Annddd… That's what brings me to my current predicament. Standing in nothing but a vintage nightie I found at an old thrift store in my last town, tears streaming down my face, my hands and legs shaking so hard I can barely stand, and of course, the nosey, hot, buffoon of a man I’ve been trying like heck to avoid standing across from me. Yup, definitely leaving town and never ever looking back. I grip the money as tightly as possible, scared to death someone is going to rip it out of my hands again.
I thank him, but honestly, I just want to figure out my next plan. When he tells me he will take care of it, and if I have anywhere else to stay, I can't help but scoff. He saw where I was staying, right? I want to blurt out, if I had somewhere else, do you think I would stay all alone in this place? But it's not his fault, and he did just come to my rescue. Instead, I need to figure out whether I need to wake Eddie up tonight to tell him about the door or just wait.
I’m jumpy and can't distinguish what I’m feeling, which is probably why I flinch as my savior's hands come toward me. The soft sadness in his eyes almost makes me regret it, but honestly, I don't know how I’m feeling at the moment. I just lost the safety of my home; it may have only been a room, but it was all I had. What am I supposed to do now? Where can I go? I’m running through every thought at lightning speed when I see his face in front of mine. Hand still on my cheek, he bends to eye level with me and gives me a smile.
“Star, I said I was going to take care of it. Let me take care of it,” he says, and I only shake my head.
“My name is Grace, not Star. Second time you’ve got me confused,” I say, not able to hide the disappointment. His chuckle surprises me.
“I know your name, my Saving Grace, but the minute you came to my aid in that dirty as fuck alleyway, shining like a big, bright, sunny, shining star, well, let's just say the name comes naturally.” He smiles down at me as I stand there gaping at him.
He takes my moment of distraction to slip past me. I notice the thief on the ground isn't moving; Finick is standing guard, and somehow he’s already zip-tied around his hands and feet. I still stare down at him for a minute, the urge to kick him in the teeth a really hard impulse to bite back, but I feel a wet nose on my hand, then hear the creak of my broken door in the distance. When I look back, I see Loot already has the door halfway open, and he’s squeezed into the room. What the heck? I take off in his direction, and by the time I’ve pushed past the broken door, he has found my bag and started cramming stuff inside.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shocked, standing in the middle of the room, staring like an idiot.
“It's going to be a chilly night. Here, put these on,” he says, tossing me a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt.
“Huh?” I ask, completely confused. What the heck is he talking about? Where am I going, and why is he packing all my stuff? Is he taking me to the bus station? He must feel my panic coming on because he’s in front of me in an instant, and his hand is on the side of my neck, thumb running over my pulse point and making a shh noise.
“Hey, look at me.” I don't know why, but my first instinct is to listen. My eyes focus on him. “Good girl, we’re going to take this one step at a time, okay?”
Again, I don't know why, but my instincts are screaming at me to trust him. He’s saved me once and, heck, what are my other options? So, I walk to the bathroom and, feeling like a zombie, I get dressed. When I come out of the bathroom, he nods before walking in after me and starts grabbing all my toiletries.
“Alright, Star, we’re going to head outside to my bike, alright?”
Like I'm in some dream state, instead of calling him a psycho and running, I nod my head and follow him out. It's like my voice in my head is shouting at me, 'This is stupid,' but my legs just carry me wherever he’s going to take me.
By the time I come back to half of my senses, we are already on the bike. My bags were shoved into his side pouches on the bike. Finick is strapped to his front, and I’m on the back. My hands, where I was instructed to place them, are between Loots' solid six-pack and Finick's harness. Then we are off, and I realize I am a complete and utter idiot.
Why the heck am I on the back of a motorcycle? Why the heck did I agree to a virtual stranger carrying me away? And worst of all, I didn't even tell Eddie. No one knows where I’m at or who I’m with.
I was really contemplating jumping off the side of the bike as it started to slow down. It looks like we are turning right into aforest of nothing but trees. I hesitate, though, because, well, it's a moving vehicle. I keep contemplating with each tree that passes. I could haul myself off and then run right into those trees and get lost.
I’m just about to risk it when the tree line breaks.
