Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
It was so calm and peaceful, wrapped in a one-armed embrace with my cheek against his solid chest. I wanted it to continue. I didn’t want to think about running and hiding from bad men, or how to fit myself back into the person I’d been. I wanted the calm I’d felt when I had knelt between his thighs and he stroked my face while he fed me. “Please,” I whispered, making no move to reach for the bag myself.
He looked even more reluctant now, but eventually, he nodded and led me around to the open passenger door. He sat in the seat with his legs on the ground outside the car, his thighs parted, waiting for me to fill the empty space.
I knelt down and nuzzled my cheek against his thigh and opened my mouth when he’d torn off a piece of his burger and held it to my lips. I sighed content, at peace, and knowing without a doubt now that I was one fucked up girl.
But I had time to put myself back together. I wasn’t for sale. I was his, and if I could convince him I wasn’t your run-of-the-mill Stockholm sufferer, he would be there to help me figure out how all the pieces fit. Asking him to feed me like this probably hadn’t been a good idea in hindsight, but this would be the last time. From here on out, I intended to start working on the jigsaw puzzle of pieces so I could stop worrying about him leaving the moment he believed I was safe.
I needed time to be angry and time to heal, but most of all, I needed to know Derek would still be here when I was done.
3
Derek
I drove the entire day and half the night before I was willing to concede to a few hours of sleep in another motel room off the highway. What I really wanted to do was get Scarlett on a god damned plane and put an ocean between us and anyone who might be following us.
It had been too risky to take a flight out of Nogales Airport. Marcos owned half the security in the airport, and in every airport within a five hundred mile radius. Along with the crooked cops he’d had in his pocket and his entourage of loyal goons, distance had seemed like the best option. Another day, and we’d be in Panama, far enough away that a flight would be less risky than to continue by car any further south.
There’d been no sign of anyone tailing us. No cars I’d seen a little too often. No suspicious people. Nothing. And if it weren’t for the prickle at the back of my neck, I would have been tempted to say we were in the clear. But it was there. It had been there since the night we’d driven away from Marcos’ flaming corpse. If anything, it had only grown stronger the further we ran.
I wasn’t used to running. It wasn’t my style, and maybe that accounted for the uncomfortable sensation that kept me on high alert. I didn’t think so though. That would just be too easy.
So, I glanced around the motel parking lot before getting out of the car and felt for the solid reassurance of the guns in the holsters beneath my shirt. Darkness shrouded everything beyond the parking lot, but the overhead lights lit up the area immediately surrounding us. After tailing us for so long without detection, an assailant wouldn’t risk a shot from far away. Something could go wrong and he’d lose the advantage of stealth.
I knew that because that was precisely what I would have been thinking. Anyone hunting us also couldn’t risk a shot going astray and hitting Scarlett. Whoever it was out there, they’d want her back—free of bullet holes.
I wanted to draw them out. The need to face the fucker on our tail was an overwhelming urge that would have been impossible to resist if it weren’t for her. I couldn’t risk Scarlett winding up in the crossfire. I wouldn’t.
With my eyes peeled and ears attuned for anything out of the ordinary, I took her hand and pulled her along with me into the motel clerk’s office. Five minutes later, we were ensconced in a room behind closed curtains and a locked door. Four, maybe five hours at most, and we’d be back on the road. At the moment though, she looked more like she needed to stretch than to sleep.
I released her hand to put our bags down on the small table and then peered out the window one last time. She remained right where I’d left her, looking around while her teeth toyed nervously with her bottom lip. I let out a deep, regretful sigh. I’d done this to her. I’d made it so that despite how much her body needed to move, she would stand there, waiting patiently for my next instruction.