Chapter 11
Sophia
The Hotel
He did it.
He actually gave me a gun, and a fully loaded magazine to go with it. I’d call it dumb, but brazen seemed more fitting for the type of man Grant was—an enigmatic psychopath in way over his head.
Either way, he wasn’t wrong about the gesture making me feel safe.
Walton would freak the fuck out if he saw me holding a gun, much less shooting one.
He had no idea what I was capable of, yet Grant seemed to know that about me, too.
He’d paid too much attention to me months ago, and I could only imagine what he’d drummed up from the internet.
Grant didn’t flinch or spare me a single glance as I slid the magazine into the gun and rested it on my lap with the muzzle pointed right at him. I tapped on the metal as I looked through the windshield, noticing we were taking a different way than before.
“Where are you taking me now?”
His thumb beat leisurely on the steering wheel to a southern hip-hop song like he hadn’t a care in the world. “Your hotel.”
“Why?”
“So you can get your stuff.”
“How do you know what hotel I was in?”
His eyes slid to meet mine. “There’s only one four-star hotel within an hour of Alliston.”
“Pretentious ass.”
He grinned as he added, “And you told me when you were half-asleep in my truck.”
My sleepy state around this man clearly needed a talkin’ to.
I was going to ask how he knew Walton wasn’t there right now, but figured he either didn’t give a damn if he was or he’d gone through my phone and found that out for himself.
Or maybe my mouth was to blame for that, too.
The niggling in my brain had me wondering what else I might have said.
“Did I say anything else?”
Grant’s tongue swiped over his teeth as he fought a smile. “Nothin’ special.”
Great. I didn’t believe that for a second. I shimmied in my seat. “I would have been fine staying at the hotel in town, just so you know.”
Grant let out a sound suggesting that surprised him, or maybe he didn’t believe me.
Whichever it had been, it made a low hum ring in my ear.
The rest of the ride to the hotel was done in silence—well, mostly.
The radio was set to low on some new age country station that Grant continued to tap along to on the steering wheel.
When we pulled up, he turned on his flood lights.
His thoughts went where mine did as he asked, “What kind of four-star hotel has half their lights out in the parking lot?”
“The kind that is right outside the world’s smallest town.” I looked around, quite certain this was the same hotel, before slipping the gun into the back of my jeans.
“Hold on, now.”
I sighed with my hand on the handle. “What?”
Grant’s brow arched. “You’ve got the only gun I keep in my car on you, darlin’. If you see anythin’ off, don’t hesitate.”
“You mean if you try to kidnap or drug me again?”
He slumped back against his seat. “I’m bein’ serious. Some parts around here aren’t quite what you’re used to. So, be ready for anything. Can you do that?”
He had no clue what I was used to. I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Grant, it’s just a hotel.”
“A hotel with no one around and half the lights out.” He tapped his temple with two fingers. “You should always be prepared for shit to happen.”
“Why’re you sounding older than me when I know you aren’t?” I didn’t mean to say it, but a wave of exhaustion forced the thought out.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “And how old do you think I am?”
I propped my elbow on the center console and rested my chin on my knuckles as I considered him, then guessed, “Twenty-three.”
“Hmmm. A little higher.”
“Twenty-three and a half.”
“C’mon, darlin’.” Grant’s smirk highlighted his devilishly handsome features—the high arch of his cheekbones above his trimmed, dark stubble, and the way his grey eyes glowed in the low-hanging moonlight coming in through the windshield.
Suddenly, I couldn’t think of a single reason not to go along with his plan.
What was two weeks in the grand scheme of it all?
“Twenty-five, since you seem so stumped.”
Stumped was definitely a good way of putting it.
Stumped about everything. Was this all a dream?
Was I on some game show like Love is Blind, only it was with sexy, small-town men who kidnapped you and forced you into doing whatever they wanted for two weeks?
I snapped out of that thought as Grant leaned back against the car door, adjusting his hat back on his head.
“I take it you know I’m older than you, right?”
He gave a single shrug. “Five years difference is nothin’.” His eyes burned over my skin, heating me in ways I forgot existed. I quickly left his truck, shutting the door in his face as my cheeks warmed. Thank fuck all these lights are out.
Grant got out and rushed to follow behind me. “By all means, lead the way, Peach.”
“Why do I have a feelin’ like you keep telling me to walk in front of you for reasons that aren’t so chivalrous?”
He chuckled, the sound like warm wax dripping over my skin. “I was raised in the south, darlin’. A lady is always first.”
“Tell that to Walton,” I murmured to myself while adjusting my tank top.
“I’d rather beat it into him.”
Damnit. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“When your lips open, I’m all ears, Peach.”
I wrapped my arm across my chest, clinging to the other, unsettled by his response.
The silence stretched as we went inside, Grant’s voice replaced by his boots tapping behind me like an ominous reminder he was still there.
Watching. We rode the elevator up to the third floor, and Grant followed behind all the way.
The flooring leading up to the rooms were carpeted, so his boots were no longer tapping along with my heels, but I knew he stayed close because I could feel his eyes on my skin.
I was so distracted by it, I hadn’t noticed how close to the room we were.
“It’s the next one,” I said, pointing to the left. I patted my pockets preemptively, forgetting these jeans weren’t even mine. “Shit. Did you happen to bring my clutch?”
“Hold on.” I turned in time to see Grant patting his own pockets before pulling out my hotel key card.
I should’ve guessed he’d have it. He’d seen my ring in his raid of my privacy, too.
Asshole. “Let me get it—wait.” I froze as he stepped ahead of me, thinking he was getting the door, at first, but he wasn’t pressing the key card to it.
There was no need. The door was already cracked open.
“Give me the gun.”
“What?” I whisper-shouted. “Fuck no. You gave it to me and you know I’m a better shot.”
“At targets that aren’t movin’, sure. Haven’t seen you hit somethin’ that is.”
I’d honed my abilities by shooting at gun ranges, not hunting. Yet I remembered Lyra saying that’s where Grant and Carver had gone the last time I was in town, and truthfully, I was too exhausted to debate it more with him.
“Fine.” I reached into my back pocket and slid the gun into his open hand.
He glanced up and down the hallway. “Stay behind me,” he said before raising the gun and nudging the door open with his boot.
Grant searched the bathroom first, making sure I was as close to him as I could possibly be. After he searched around the room and under the king-sized bed, he slowly dropped the gun to his side
“Maybe it was the cleaning crew?” I suggested.
He scanned the floor from where he stood along the other side of the bed and shook his head. “Don’t know much about four-star hotels, but I don’t think the cleaning crew would dump all your belongings. Unless maybe that sweetheart of a man you’re about to marry made this mess.”
“W-what?”
Grant tucked the gun into his waistband and bent down. When he stood, a rather plain bra was dangling from his finger by its strap. Whatever smart remark he was going to make died as a loud crash rang through the room.
My mind went numb as my surroundings tunneled.
Grant’s words, quick and murky, were indecipherable as my body crumpled to the ground.
My fingers laced tightly behind my head and my knees curled up on instinct.
Suddenly, I was no longer in a hotel room.
I was back in that place, shrouded in darkness, waiting for it all to end.