Chapter Three
L orelei didn’t know how long they rode, but after a while, she couldn’t feel her butt. In fact, it was getting hard to hold her head up as the adrenaline slowly crashed, so she leaned it against Cross’s back. It was hard to believe she was finally free.
She refused to feel bad about the man she killed. He was a horrible human being who probably hurt others in the past.
Not too long after that, they turned off the main road and pulled up to a run-down motel. Weeds poked through the cracks in the concrete walkway. The roof sloped unevenly. The place was probably brand-spanking-new twenty-some-odd years ago. Each room had a separate entrance, with parking right in front. When the engine finally shut off, the deafening sound echoed like static in her ears. Cross tapped her leg, indicating she had to get off, but for the life of her she couldn’t seem to move. Her legs felt like Jell-O. It took her a moment to swing her leg off the bike where she promptly slithered to the broken, gritty asphalt in a heap of boneless goo.
Cross dismounted and chuckled at her lack of grace. “Yeah, first time is always a bitch.”
Despite his humor, he helped her stand and took off her helmet. Holding onto her arm, he escorted her to room twelve. Unlocking the door, they entered and he flipped the light on. Her first assessment had been spot-on. Crushed velvet seemed to be the decorating choice, along with a groovy green shag carpet. Luckily, everything seemed to be clean. Just severely outdated, including the television set that had an actual antenna.
“I came prepared for you,” he said, pointing to a duffel bag on the bed. “Change of clothes. Thankfully, shoes. Female toiletries. A brush. Stuff like that. You can shower first.”
She had so many questions. Wanted to say so many things. Her voice, however, just wouldn’t come out. So, she nodded again, picked up the duffel bag and headed into the bathroom. The harsh overhead light showcased the red handprint on her cheek. The rest of her was pale, with purple shadows under her eyes. Opening the duffel, she dug around until she spotted a new toothbrush and toothpaste. She could finally wash the awful aftertaste of vomit out of her mouth.
Her rescuer also brought her shampoo and conditioner that smelled like apples. Stepping in the shower, the hot water hit all her aching muscles, causing her to grimace in pain. Her prison cell had a small shower, but it would only get lukewarm. This was heaven. She closed her eyes, feeling like she could fall asleep right there, but instead, she turned off the water and stepped out. In the duffel, she found a new set of panties and pajamas. Part of her was embarrassed that he’d know what her underwear looked like, but another part didn’t really care. After brushing her wet hair, she grabbed the bag and stepped out of the bathroom.
Cross lounged on the bed, watching some comedy show, his shirt missing. She couldn’t help but stare at the unbelievably beautiful man who now had his focus entirely on her. Chiseled muscles and colorful tattoos decorated both arms and torso, trailing down to disappear under the waistband of his jeans. When he stood up, that hip-hugging denim rode low on his hips, showing off his defined Adonis belt. Lorelei had to drag her gaze away as he approached. He came to a stop in front of her and lifted her chin with a finger.
“Who did that?” he asked, staring at her cheek.
She touched her throat and shook her head.
“You can’t talk?”
She nodded her answer.
“I see,” he said softly. “It’s going to be okay. Let me take my shower and then we’ll figure out how to communicate.”
Again, she nodded. He grabbed some clothes he’d had out and headed into the bathroom. Who was this stranger who rescued her? Weren’t bikers supposed to be dangerous? Was she projecting a false sense of security onto him? Ordinarily, the men in white lab coats should’ve been the safe choice, but she learned quickly that bad men hid behind the illusion of medicine.
Next to the bed was a nightstand with a pen and pad of paper next to the rotary phone. She walked over and picked it up, then sat on the bed with her back against the headboard. Now that she was away from that awful place, she could relax. She closed her eyes, but immediately saw the man she had killed. The blood that streaked down his face. The horrified expression frozen in death.
Her eyes snapped open, not wanting to remember, only to see Cross standing at the foot of the bed. Once again, his jeans rode low on his hips. Water droplets from his wet hair decorated his shoulders. They stared at each other for a long moment, and she wondered what he thought of her. Did he only see a pathetic girl? A waif lost in a world she knew nothing about? The memories she had before Noble Vale were nothing more than static of a long-lost life.
“Paper and pen,” he said. “That’ll work.”
She looked at them clutched in her hand. Could she trust this man? He might have rescued her, but what were his motives? Taking a deep breath, she wrote down a question and held it up.
“Yes,” he replied after reading. “There were other rooms at this hotel, but I have to protect you, and I can’t do that if you’re in a different place.”
He sat on the mattress, staring at the bruises peeking from under the pajamas. Lifting his hand, he went to move the top over her collarbone, and she shrank back. Lifting her hand to hold the top against her chest.
“I just want to see,” he assured. “I won’t hurt you.”
She searched his face, trying to determine if this was some sort of trap. Although she couldn’t figure out his endgame if this was a trap. She saw pain in the viridescent depths of his eyes. Rage. Brokenness. What she didn’t see was subterfuge. He may be a biker, but it wasn’t a biker who had hurt her. It had been a doctor. Someone who, supposedly, was held in high standards. Someone who was supposed to have morals and ethics. The images of both men were a juxtaposition of each other.
Slowly, she lowered her hand. He shifted the material and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, gently brushing his fingertips over each discoloration. “I don’t know if I can handle seeing bruises over the rest of your body. And I know they’re there. Those goddamn bastards. I want to kill them for what they did to you.”
His words should’ve scared her, but oddly, they gave her comfort.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked her. “How did you escape?”
What should she tell him? How would he feel knowing he shared a room with a murderer? Probably would be best to yank off the Band-Aid now. If he left, well, at least she was free. She wrote down her answer. That she was attacked. That she was going to be raped if she didn’t save herself. That she killed a man. Did he think she was an awful person?
“You are not awful,” he insisted. “We don’t know each other, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say you could never be a horrible person. You did what you had to do to survive. You’re resourceful and brave. Never bow your head to that.”
Tears welled up in her eyes at his praise. It had been so long since someone said anything nice to her that it made her emotions go haywire. How pathetic was she?
“Shh,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. She stiffened for a moment, and then slowly relaxed into his warmth. “Never think of him again. I’m watching over you now, and I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”
Closing her eyes, for a moment she allowed herself to melt into him. Could she believe him? She’d be foolish to trust him implicitly, yet she wanted to trust him. She needed something to tether her emotions. Pulling back, Lorelei picked up the pen and paper again, and wrote her next question before she held it up for him to read: “How did you know where to find me?”
“I’d been observing Noble Vale for a couple of weeks, working out the coming and going of employees and the weak points of the place. Trying to formulate a plan. And then, there you were, running across the parking lot without shoes.”
Lorelei tilted her head to look up at him, and they stared at one another. He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. She asked one word: “Why?”
“I came for you,” he told her. “We have a long day tomorrow. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
She glanced down at the bed. The only bed, wondering if he expected to sleep with her.
“No,” he replied to her unanswered question. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”
A pent-up breath escaped her, and she was glad he wasn’t like that man she killed ... nope, she wasn’t going to think about him. Cross was right. She did what she had to do to survive.
****
C ross watched as she crawled beneath the blankets and waited until she got situated. Lorelei’s golden-brown locks draped over the pillow, and he had this itch to run his fingers through them. The picture hadn’t done her justice. She stole his breath, her beauty shining through the ugliness she had no doubt endured.
He clicked off the light and headed for the recliner, settling in the lumpy chair. Not that it bothered him. He had a knack for falling asleep in any condition, a side effect from having to sleep with one eye open during his teenage years. He rarely slept more than an hour or two before waking up to reaffirm he wasn’t back in those dark days.
Because of that hypervigilance, he woke instantly when the door handle rattled. Nothing was by chance, so he rose and grabbed his gun as he made his way silently to the door. Listening intently, he heard muffled voices. Glancing out the peephole, he saw two distorted male figures inspecting his bike. Backing away, he went to the bed and placed a hand over Lorelei’s mouth to stop her cry of fright as she woke.
“We’ve been found,” he whispered. “Grab your clothes and the duffel bag and lock yourself in the bathroom. Understand?”
When she nodded, he went to his boots and shirt and put them on. He didn’t know how Birsha’s men found them, but he couldn’t falter. More than his life was on the line. He had to protect Lorelei at all costs. She was his priority.
It wasn’t long before a lock pic slid into the tumbler, forcefully unbinding the driver pins behind the shear line of the mechanism. Once the last pin was down, the door popped open. Moonlight afforded just enough illumination to watch the two men enter the room. Stepping up behind the second one, he quickly dispatched him by snapping his neck. As the second man turned around, Cross punched him in the nose, breaking it as he drove the fragile bones into the guy’s sinus cavity. He fell, knocked out by the hit. The fight was over before it had even begun.
Cross decided not to kill the second man. He would report to Costello Birsha that Lorelei had a protector now, with an emphasis on how fucking deadly Aera Cross was. That he was willing to kill to keep her safe, but they couldn’t linger in the shitty hotel. They had to leave right fucking now.
He hurried to the bathroom and tapped it. “Lorelei, it’s me. We must go.”
She came out, fully dressed and the duffel’s strap slung across her chest. He was impressed with her efficiency, as well as not breaking down when she saw the two fallen men. She simply stepped over them.
“I have to dump them,” he said, going to the dead one and heaving him up and over his shoulder. Walking around to the back of the hotel, he threw the heavy sack of shit into the dumpster. He had asked for the last room for this very reason. Not that he consciously thought he’d end up throwing bodies in the waste bin, but because it was a good escape route. Going back, he picked up the not-dead guy and dumped him too. He’d bet good money Birsha didn’t want cops involved in his little torture scheme, which was why Cross was pretty sure the body would be properly disposed of.
When he entered the room again, she sat ready to go, the helmet already on her head. He walked into the bathroom and washed off the spatter of blood on his skin from breaking the man’s nose. Under Lorelei’s wide-eyed stare, he finished dressing.
“I don’t know how they found us, but we’ve got to move quickly.”
She held up a piece of paper that read, “Okay.”
He had contingency plans set up for this very scenario. “We’re going to visit a friend of mine.”
She held up the paper again. Lorelei looked at him with guarded trust, and it made him want to prove he was strong enough to protect her. That trusting him was the right decision.
“Let’s go.”
He held out his hand to her, and she immediately grabbed it, following behind him like she’d been doing it for years.