Chapter 24
twenty-four
S am was going to be pissed. We wouldn’t be having that talk, not just because I didn’t have a phone but was also no longer on campus. Tristan drove us to the seediest hotel I’d ever seen. If his goal was to blend in with the thugs hunting us, he succeeded. I hadn’t expected the Four Seasons, but I also thought I’d be sleeping on a bed that wouldn’t give me an STD just by looking at it.
“It’s not that bad,” Tristan said, reading my expression.
I eyed the motel sign. Neon letters flickered, most of the bulbs burnt out, leaving just “EL” glowing in pink. A few old, rusted cars were scattered in the parking lot, and the building itself was grimy with peeling paint and dim lights flickering in the windows. Underneath the name sat a letter board with a greeting, but the message was impossible to decipher; half the letters had fallen off or were crooked. “Tell me this is part of your plan,” I muttered, the sign flickering as if it were minutes away from burning out.
“What plan?” he responded.
The dry look I gave him spoke volumes of his sanity. “Tristan, this isn’t funny. I’m half expecting you to tell me this is a sick twisted prank or you’re blackmailing me again.”
He turned the key into the off position, the Mustang’s purring engine going silent. “Sorry to disappoint you, Shortcake.”
“Look, I can spring for the hotel if you need money,” I extended, knowing his father often used Tristan’s inheritance as leverage to get his son in line. It rarely worked, but it didn’t stop Blaine from trying.
Leaving the key in the ignition, Tristan slanted slightly toward me, his arm draping on the back of my seat. He toyed with his lip ring, jaw tightening at my offer. “I don’t need your money,” he retorted gruffly.
The kiss in the elevator seemed like weeks ago, not mere hours. “You might not need it, but I do. Can’t we at least stay at the Holiday Inn? Anywhere but here?” I snuck another unpleasant glance at the two-story motel, and I shuddered.
“I’ll check us in, and then you can order takeout.” A speck of humor glimmered in his eyes as if my misery amused him.
Sadistic prick.
I put out my bottom lip in a pout, not caring how immature I was acting. “I need to get a new phone.” I grasped any excuse to get me the hell out of here.
His hand moved to the door. “Not tonight. The stores are closed. We’ll get you one in the morning.”
A swirl of anxiety whirled in me. “I have a class at ten,” I blurted before he could leave.
“Then we’ll go after class,” he reasoned, agitation edging into his features.
“Fine.” My arms crossed, sinking dramatically against my chest. “Your call, but if I get kidnapped in the middle of the night, it’s on you.”
“Not going to happen with me sleeping next to you.”
I swallowed. Why did he have to put that image into my head? I had to say it was better than the one of me getting hacked up with an axe by a serial killer. “We’re sharing a room?”
He flashed me a smile, the hoop winking at the corner of his mouth. “I told you I wasn’t leaving your side.”
Wasn’t he taking this protection detail a little too far? But as I stared at his face, seriousness consumed any specks of lighter emotions. He was all grim and doom now.
Resigned to spending at least a single night with Tristan, I just had to convince myself I had enough self-control to keep to my side of the bed. What I did when I was sleeping wasn’t on me. “Can I use your phone? I need to let Sam know I won’t be home.”
“Don’t tell her where you are,” he said, fishing his cell from his back pocket.
My nose wrinkled. “What about who I’m with, or is that off-limits too?”
He shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”
“Because under all that iron armor, there’s actually a heart somewhere in your chest. No matter how small,” I answered his rhetorical thought.
“Stay out of my photos.” He held out his phone.
“That only makes me want to look more,” I mumbled, taking the device that had been the source of my misery the last few months.
A humph breezed through my lips as Tristan left the car. I sank deeper into the Mustang’s leather seat. This was insane. What was I doing here? Sharing a bedroom with the person I needed to avoid most? My gut was telling me this was a bad idea.
I had three choices.
I could go along with Tristan’s shenanigans, drawing on all my self-discipline to keep my hands off him. I could call Sam and have her come pick me up. Or I could get out of the car and start walking. I had Tristan’s phone. He’d be pissed. He’d most likely come after me. And it would be dark before I got halfway back to campus.
Chewing on my lower lip, I stared at the phone and punched in Tristan’s passcode after a minute. The difficult part now was remembering Sam’s number. Surely Tristan had it saved into his phone, but a quick scroll through his contacts came up with nothing that resembled her name. Knowing Tristan, he stored her as something absurd like Voldemort or Wicked Witch.
As tempting as it was to go through his phone, I avoided his text messages. There was crossing lines and then there was bulldozing through those lines. I had no reason to snoop. To delete the photos he snapped of me? Yeah, but they no longer seemed important. He already imploded my life.
I punched in what I hoped was Sam’s number and waited to see if my memory hadn’t failed me. She didn’t answer. Her cheeky voicemail greeting picked up. “You can leave a message, but I probably won’t check it.”
Snorting, I did something I rarely did. I left her a message. It would have to do until we could talk tomorrow.
I dropped the phone on my lap and glanced out the window, wishing I hadn’t, the unpleasant view an unwanted reminder of my current predicament.
At least the setting sun provided a lovely distraction. Dusk approached and streaked the horizon in deep oranges and a band of crimson flanked by ribbons of darkness. Halloween was this weekend, but already candy wrappers littered the ground, twirling and dancing on the side of the curb with the fallen leaves. What a picturesque evening until I glanced to my left.
A long sigh escaped as I wrinkled my nose at the run-down office. It was accurately a shed with a door and a single cracked window out front that I was sure had never been cleaned in its life. So much dirt, sand, and grime covered the glass you couldn’t see in or out There was no need for a shade. I had a hard time distinguishing what color the building was. It might have once been white, but it no longer represented anything close to that color.
I didn’t want to know what the inside of a room looked like or how many critters called it home. This place definitely had cockroaches.
What’s taking him so long?
My knee bounced.
I sat up straighter, peering out the windshield to see if I could spot him through the filthy window. I didn’t see my insufferable yet sexy neighbor, but I did feel something that prickled the back of my neck. No stranger to being afraid, I forced my breath to remain slow. I had no reason to freak out…yet. Maybe it was just Tristan’s warnings and my paranoia setting in, but I couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched me.
When I quickly scanned the area, my gaze landed on another car parked near the entrance of the lot. We were pulled over in front of the office, forcing me to shift slightly in my seat to get a better look over my shoulder. Their headlights were on, cutting through the dark close to consuming the last bit of sun and blinding me. Smoke puffed around the car from the exhaust. The car was on and idling, which led me to believe someone was inside.
Fear spiked, raising my heart rate.
This person could very well be waiting for a room like us. Or a motel patron doing something shady in their car. A drug deal? A blowjob? Human trafficking. This was the place for all kinds of dealings, and the owners would turn a blind eye as long as they paid for a room. By the hour. By the night. By the week. It didn’t matter. They were all too accommodating.
I couldn’t look away, and despite not being able to see their face, this stranger’s presence became evident. The engine revved from their car in what felt like a warning or a threat. I couldn’t distinguish which, and still, my eyes were glued to the car.
My hand moved to the auto lock button located on my door, and I hit it. The mechanism clicked in place, echoing in the car like a shotgun.
Holy shit.
Tristan’s gun.
Somehow, the weapon no longer created a panicky fear. It gave me a sense of safety, regardless that I had no idea how to use the thing. Assuming Tristan hadn’t taken it with him. I tried to recall what he’d done with it when we got in the car. Had he removed it from where he’d stashed the handgun tucked under his shirt? If he had, I’d been oblivious.
“Shit.” Searching the car, I opened the glove box, felt under his seat, and peeked in the back seat while glancing occasionally at the other creepy car to make sure it hadn’t budged.
I had my hand under my seat, my face plastered to the front of the dash, when someone knocked on the window.
I jumped, smacking my forehead on the dash. My heart leaped in my chest as I sat up, praying an axe murderer wasn’t peering in the window at me.
Tristan was on the other side of the glass, his brows bunching together as he glowered. “Unlock the damn door.”
I flipped him off.
Tristan scowled. “Classy,” he said gruffly from the other side of the window
I hit the button, the tightness in my chest loosening now that he was back. “What the hell, Tristan. I nearly went into cardiac arrest,” I complained as he opened the door.
He dropped into the driver’s seat, his stormy eyes honing in on me. “Someone a little frazzled tonight?”
“Can you blame me? You kidnapped me and brought me to Bates Motel.” My hand flung out toward the dimly lit building to my right, the office building sconce flickering as flies buzzed around the glass. “I don’t want to die here .” I glanced back at Tristan.
“First of all, I didn’t kidnap you,” he clarified, the bastard doing his best to cover up the smirk curling on his lips.
My blood pressure rose. “You didn’t give me a choice! Same thing.”
He watched me, looking at me like I was a mystery he’d been trying to solve for years. “Your mind connects things in the strangest ways.”
I fumbled with his phone in my lap, flipping it around. “My mind isn’t up for questioning. Yours is.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Despite the somber expression on his gorgeous features, something in his eyes softened. Tristan wanted me to trust him.
Could I?
I’d done nothing but trust him thus far. Why start doubting him now?
The tension in my shoulders released. “Fine, but I better not wake up in the middle of the night with you breathing over me and a knife in your hand.”
He chuckled despite not wanting to find anything about me amusing. “Lay off the horror movies, Shortcake.” He held out his hand, palm up, silently requesting I return his phone.
I saw an opportunity to bargain and took it, holding his phone hostage. “I can’t stay here.”
“Too late.” He held up his hand, a key dangling from his middle finger. “Give me the phone before I crawl into your seat and make you wish I hadn’t let you borrow it.”
“Do you always have to resort to threats?”
Tristan grinned, flashing those dimples I rarely saw, and I wished I hadn’t taunted him because his smile did immoral things to my insides. “It gets the job done.” He crooked a finger at his phone, waiting for me to yield my possession of the device, but as I dropped it into his waiting palm, his brows grew closer. “Why do you look so spooked?”
My eyes zoomed to where the car had been parked only to see it was no longer there, making me wonder if it had been there at all. This motel had the eerie fun house atmosphere known to play tricks on the mind. “Because this place gives me the creeps.”
Tristan’s knee hit the keychain swinging from the key still in the ignition. “Well, you better find a way to chill. Eat an edible or something. The night’s not over yet.”
My gaze flew up from the back and forth swaying metal ring to Tristan’s. “Now what?” The attitude couldn’t be stopped from entering my tone. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. The motel was my tipping point.
He turned the key, starting the engine. “I need to take care of something.” He checked the side mirrors before shifting the car into drive.
“Right now?” I shrieked. As much as the motel gave me the ick, I’d really been looking forward to climbing in bed and tackling this paper I had due in two days. My plans for the night didn’t include traipsing around all night with Tristan. “What about takeout?”
He steered the Mustang into a parking spot. “You can stay in the room. I won’t be long.”
My plans also didn’t include me alone in a serial killer’s playroom. “Fuck no. You’re not leaving me. I refuse to get out of this car. If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you.”
“You’re lucky I’m in no mood to argue.” Not waiting to see if I would follow, Tristan grabbed my bag from the back and started for our room.
I scrambled after him, sticking to his heels like glue. “That’s a first,” I muttered.
He put the key into the lock and turned the key. This establishment hadn’t seen updates ever. They had actual keys instead of the key cards I was used to. “Before we go anywhere, you need to change.” Holding the door for me, he hung outside until I walked through.
“Why? What’s wrong with what I have on?” I came to an immediate halt. Fuck me. This was worse than any picture my imagination could have drummed up.
I’d never seen so much brown in a room. It wasn’t just off-putting; it churned my gut, and I felt myself go green. My hand pressed into the wall. Instant regret. Something sticky now coated my fingers. I yanked my hand off the wall, a gross expression on my face as I looked for something to wipe off the filth. “I’m going to be sick.” The color of the sheets made it impossible to tell if they were used or meant to be that putrid shade.
“You’re not puking in my Mustang again.”
“I got out of the car if you recall,” I shot back, smearing my hand on the front of my shirt.
“Barely. Did you bring something black to wear?”
“Is that the shade we’re going with? The color of your heart?”
“You got me all figured out, Shortcake.”
I rolled my eyes, taking my bag and plopping it on the bed before I unzipped the clasp. “You’re in luck,” I said, digging out a basic black cropped top I normally slept in and a pair of ripped shorts the same dark hue.
He spared the clothes nothing but a flicker of his attention. “As if we have much of a choice.”
Taking my clothes, I flipped him off and strutted into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Huge mistake. I couldn’t breathe. The stench of mold and bleach overwhelmed my senses. It was like someone had desperately tried to scrub the small room clean and failed miserably.
“God, I don’t want to touch anything,” I muttered to myself. Pretty sure I would beg Tristan to let me sleep in his car tonight. Hell, I might even get on my knees for the blanket I knew he had stashed in his trunk.
Careful to touch as little as possible, I stripped and slipped on my clothes in record time. I threw open the bathroom door and dashed out, going straight for the exit. My fingers fumbled with the handle, swinging the door that led outside open also. With greedy, deep breaths, I consumed the night’s fresh air.
I turned around to where Tristan leaned against the wall. His phone was in his hand, but his eyes were on me, scoping me out from head to toe. Without saying a word about my outfit, he lifted a brow.
Irritation flared in my veins. I blew out a breath, pressing my back into the opened door. “Is this better?”
The frown on his lips curved deeper. What could be wrong with what I had on now? My wardrobe was limited thanks to him rushing me out of the dorm. He would have to deal with what I had, which wasn’t much.
A sensual look crept into his eyes, and the blood in my veins warmed. He shoved off the wall, never breaking eye contact except briefly when he yanked off the hoodie he’d been wearing. When he reached me, Tristan slipped the sweatshirt over my head. His gaze dipped to my lips as I put my arms through the holes. We were close but not close enough. He looked like he wanted to kiss me. Did I want him to kiss me? In a shitty motel? If he did, would either of us be able to stop after one kiss? Two? Three? Staring at Tristan, I realized how much trouble I was in. How deep my emotions for him ran. If he backed me up to the edge of the bed, I would tumble willingly to the bug-infested mattress without a second thought.
And something told me I could enjoy every second we spent in that bed.
With a control I didn’t have, his eyes flicked away from my face. “Shit,” he mumbled under his breath.
I blinked. Oh, right. My clothes. I’d forgotten, my head overwhelmed by Tristan. Glancing down, I surveyed my outfit. “It can’t possibly be that bad.”
Tristan backed up a step, shaking his head. “How does an oversized hoodie make you look sexier?”
His sweatshirt came down to my midthighs, but the problem lay in the ultra-soft fabric smelling painstakingly like Tristan that covered the jean shorts I had on, making it look like I wore only the hoodie and a pair of white sneakers. I shrugged, a gooey warmth spreading within me. “You’re idea. Not mine.”
Grabbing my hand, he let the door swing shut behind him. “Change of plans, you’ll stay in the car.”
“What are the chances we can stop at Walmart?” I asked, thinking I could pick up a sleeping bag, snacks, a flashlight, and any other essentials for camping inside Tristan’s car.
“What for?” The grump couldn’t just say sure.
“I need a few things.”
Lately, it seemed all Tristan did was drag me from place to place. “Ask me again in an hour,” he grumbled, hauling me down the wobbling iron staircase.
Forty-five minutes later, I went from one shithole to another, trading the run-down motel for an abandoned warehouse. Abandoned wasn’t the right word. The building might look like no one had maintained the property for the last twenty years, but someone was using it. I didn’t want to know for what.
Hiding out in the car seemed my best option.
A chain-link fence bordered the perimeter. The question was, was it to keep people out or keep them in?
Every window on the two-story structure was blacked out, making it impossible to tell if life roamed inside the walls. If it weren’t for what I suspected were guards stationed at each entrance point, I might have believed the warehouse was empty.
What were they hiding in there? What business could Tristan possibly have here?
A dozen illegal activities came easily to my overactive mind.
I pulled my attention from the brick building, turning to Tristan for answers. “What is this place?”
He didn’t appear to like my curious mind, frown lines creasing the corners of his mouth. “Nowhere you want to be. Stay in the car. And lock the doors. Keep my phone just in case.”
“In case what?”
“I don’t come back.”
My heart twisted at the thought. “Tristan,” I hissed. “That’s not funny.”
But the driver’s door was already opened, and his long legs unfolded out of the car. He leaned down, hands braced on the roof. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, the key is in the ignition. Go back to the motel.”
Tugging on the end of my sleeves, my brows pinched. “You’re going to let me drive your baby?”
“Not if I can help it.” He hit the lock button and shut the door.
I watched him cut across the parking lot, disappearing around the side of the building.
Not having my phone sucked. I had nothing to distract me. I could mess around on Tristan’s phone, but as I reached for his phone, a beam of headlights sliced through the darkness about a quarter mile down the road. The little orbs bounced closer, coming straight this way.
Uneasiness started to creep in.
I shifted in my seat, unbuckling the belt strapped across my chest.
It couldn’t be.
I leaned forward, needing a clearer picture of the car, but holy shit, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was the same car I’d seen at the motel.
But that didn’t make sense.
Not unless they followed us.
What a frightening thought.
A fissure of panic bolted like a strike of lightning through me. I couldn’t sit in the car like a sitting duck waiting to be abducted…or worse. Much worse.
Fuck staying in the car. Not while a lunatic followed us. I didn’t know what he wanted, and I wasn’t going to hang around and find out.
While the stalker’s car was still behind the gate, I grabbed the keys and scrambled out of the Mustang, slamming the door shut behind me. It rang through the suffocatingly quiet night, echoing into the stars along with the damn crickets chirping. I had no time to appreciate nature.
I got the hell out of Dodge, dashing in the direction I’d seen Tristan disappear, cursing his name a dozen different ways. My sneakers slapped over the cracked asphalt, the oversized hoodie flapping in the wind. Fear clawed at my lungs, my heart pounding with frantic urgency to move faster. Overhead, the crescent moon peeked through thick clouds, offering little light to guide me. Shadows loomed from the derelict building, their jagged edges resembling teeth ready to devour me whole, but the warehouse seemed a safer bet than out here.
It might have been my imagination, but I swore footsteps sounded behind me, and the prickles dancing up my arms indicated the person was closing in. Every instinct screamed at me to run faster, but the loose gravel under my sneakers had me sliding on the ground.
As I rounded the corner, I looked over my shoulder, needing to verify the stalker hadn’t gotten out of his car and given chase, that my paranoia was a pain in the ass. Turned out, I had bigger problems.
Much bigger, bulkier problems that outweighed me by a good two hundred pounds. Not to mention the muscles. Why were they so…large?
Smacking into what felt like a wall but was a chest of muscles, I had no doubt in my mind that this guy ate steroids for breakfast, lunch, midday snack, and dinner.
Holy hell. What had his momma fed him?
The side of my face throbbed. I should be grateful it was my cheek that hit him and not my nose, or there would have been blood everywhere. My blood. His linebacker-sized hands went to my shoulders, keeping me from going anywhere.
Son of a bitch.
I winced under the pressure of his fingers into my flesh. If he applied any more strength, he’d be touching bone.
A wry grin curled on the linebacker’s lips. “What do we have here? A stray?”