Chapter Two #2
The abrupt greeting made him grin. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep?” Only the security lights were on in the pizza place. He kept walking.
“Fuck you. You’re jealous because I’m better-looking.” There was the sound of bedclothes being thrown back. “I know you’re not calling at this hour for shits and giggles. What do you need?”
“I have a ... situation. Could be nothing, but put everyone on alert. I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
“I can be at your location in about seven or eight hours.” As their tech guy, Zach tracked all their cell phones, aware of where they were at all times when away from home.
“I’m good. I’ll check in tomorrow morning.”
“You’d better.” The line went dead.
Tucking his phone in his pocket, Eli entered the 7-Eleven on the corner.
****
Kinley stared at the closed door, her fingers digging into the back of the chair she’d grabbed for support.
Her breath caught in her throat. She forced herself to inhale and shoved down the panic that threatened to rise.
He’d be back for his belongings, unless he decided to abandon them.
Maybe this was his way of walking away without a scene like the one she’d made back in the bar parking lot.
It was wrong for her to ask him or anyone else for help, but desperate times called for extreme measures. If nothing else, she should be safe for tonight since the motel room wasn’t registered in her name. If Elijah didn’t come back, she’d make a new plan in the morning.
Ignoring the hard lump in her stomach and the trembling in her legs, she went to his duffel.
It wasn’t snooping since he’d told her to help herself, but it still felt wrong to be poking around his personal belongings.
It was no surprise there was no wallet or phone.
He’d keep them on him. There was nothing but a few changes of clothing and a leather kit containing a brush, razor, and other grooming items—nothing that couldn’t be easily replaced.
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. Her sheer aloneness threatened to crush her.
While she’d always felt like an outsider within her pack, she’d had her daddy.
Now that bulwark of support was gone. If she gave in to despair, she was lost. There would be time for tears later.
Either that or she’d be dead, and it would no longer matter.
“On that cherry thought,” she muttered. She chose a long-sleeved denim shirt rather than a short-sleeved t-shirt for warmth. A chill had invaded her, one that was as much emotional as it was physical.
It was risky to shower, but it was a chance she was willing to take. She was tired of being grungy, of wearing the same clothes. With one final glance at the door, she ducked into the bathroom and set the flimsy lock. It wasn’t much, but it would give her a few seconds warning.
Like the rest of the room, the shower was nothing special, but it was clean.
It didn’t matter that the tiles were yellowed with age and chipped in several places.
There was hot water. She hooked the clean shirt on the doorknob before cranking the taps on full blast. While the water heated, she stripped out of her dirty clothing.
A low groan of pleasure escaped her when she stepped into the shower.
The heat enveloped her, the spray pummelling her tired body.
Nothing had ever felt so good. After days of using gas station and fast-food restaurant bathrooms to clean up, this was pure heaven.
She’d never take a hot shower for granted again.
Despite wanting to linger, she grabbed the tiny bar of motel soap and began to scrub.
There was no telling how long Elijah would be gone—assuming he came back.
She lathered from head to toe three times before she finally felt clean.
Once she’d rinsed the last of the residue away, she turned off the water and grabbed the towel.
Shivering, she wasted no time getting dried off and donning the shirt.
The long sleeves covered her hands, so she rolled them back until they ended at her wrists.
The tails fell halfway down her thighs. Although she didn’t want to, she dragged her jeans back on.
It was strange to wear them without underwear, but she wasn’t putting them back on until she’d washed them.
It took no time to rinse out her underwear, bra, socks, and shirt in the sink and hang them to dry.
Uncaring her hair was damp and tangled, she grabbed her boots and opened the door.
There was no sign of Elijah. Swallowing her disappointment, she went to his duffel and grabbed a pair of socks.
After a moment’s hesitation, she sat on the end of the bed and tugged them on.
They were way too big, but they’d help protect her feet.
Then she added her boots. If she had to run, she wanted to be prepared.
After checking to make sure her wallet and phone were secure in her jeans’ pockets, she sat on the bed farthest from the door and leaned against the headboard.
Outside noise filtered into the room—a car horn, the television from a couple of doors down, a siren in the distance.
Having four walls around her gave her a false sense of security.
She tried to remain vigilant, but exhaustion was catching up with her.
When her eyes drifted closed, she fought them open.
When her head dropped, she jerked it back up.
She had to stay alert until Elijah returned, or until enough time had passed to prove he wasn’t going to.
The door handle rattled. Heart jumping, she leapt off the bed, hands fisted by her sides.
Her entire body sighed in relief when Elijah entered carrying a couple of bags.
He glanced in her direction, but his expression didn’t change.
Ignoring her combative stance, he set everything down on the table.
“You find what you needed?” He jerked his head toward the duffel.
She slowly unclenched her hands and straightened out of her crouch. “Yes. Thank you.”
“The only thing open was a 7-Eleven. There are sandwiches, blueberry muffins, donuts, a fruit salad, juice, and water.”
Her stomach chose that moment to growl. She put her hand over it to still the rumbling.
He waved her over. “Eat something before you rest.”
“I’ll pay for my share.” She didn’t want to be beholden to him, well, any more than she already was.
In truth, she couldn’t repay him for what he’d given her—a temporary haven.
He’d also listened. It might not have changed his mind about leaving in the morning, but she was glad there was someone in the world, outside her pack, that knew her story.
“It’s only a few sandwiches.” The hardness in his dark eyes softened slightly. “Come on over and eat.”
Lured by the company—wolves were social creatures by nature—as much as the food, she helped herself to a turkey-and-bacon sub and most of the fruit. They ate in companionable silence. When she couldn’t eat another bite, she sat back and patted her full stomach.
“You done?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you, Elijah.” The fine tremors in her arms and legs had ceased, no doubt aided by the calories her body had been craving. It hadn’t been her intention to starve herself, but with everything else going on eating hadn’t been a priority.
“Eli. The only one who ever called me Elijah was my mama, and only when I was in trouble.”
It was hard to imagine someone as tough and self-contained having parents, but everyone had them. “Thank you, Eli.” While she took care of the garbage, he packed away the remaining food.
“Get some rest. Dawn is only a couple hours away.” He waved her toward the far bed.
“You take that one.” He toed off his boots, shucked his shirt, and sprawled out on the other bed, his big frame taking up the entire double mattress, his large feet hanging off the end.
He reached out and flicked off the bedside lamp, leaving her standing in the darkness.
Her vision easily adjusted, but she hovered uncertainly for a few seconds before lying down on top of the covers fully dressed. She expected him to make some comment about the fact she was wearing her boots, but he remained silent, his breathing even.
His eyes were closed. Had he already fallen asleep? Sleeping with a stranger in the room might be no big deal for him, but she’d never shared a room with anyone. That life was over, and the bedroom that had been hers for twenty-five years was no longer home. She belonged nowhere.
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye.
She swiped it angrily away. It didn’t matter.
Staying alive was all that was important.
No one in her pack, not the people she’d thought were her friends, not the elders, no one but Rufus had been on her side, and he’d helped her in secret, not wanting to bring her uncle’s wrath down on him.
“You’re safe tonight.” Eli’s deep voice cut through her pity party, proving he wasn’t sleeping.
The promise sank into her bones. Her tense muscles relaxed.
It should be impossible for her to trust a complete stranger, but her wolf liked him.
That was a huge endorsement, as her wolf tended not to like many people.
Her wolf hated Uncle Duke, always had. Related or not, Kinley had never been comfortable around the man.
Her instincts had proven to be spot on. Duke Wright was not to be trusted, but Eli was different.
For tonight, she was safe. Tomorrow was a different story. Swallowing her resentment—it wasn’t fair to expect him to defend her when no one in her own pack had—she closed her eyes, turned her back on him, and slowed her breathing.
She must have fallen asleep as she was jolted awake by a large hand covering her mouth. The mercenary had found her. Her pulse jumped. She shot her elbow back, making contact. It was like hitting steel. Unable to breathe, she began to struggle.
“There’s someone at the door.” Eli’s harsh whisper broke through her terror. He rolled off her, positioning himself between her and the entrance.
She scooted off the bed, put her back to the wall, and listened intently, trying to hear past the pounding in her ears.
The handle began to turn. It felt like she was watching it happen in slow motion.
Silently, the door pushed inward. The dim light of dawn outlined a huge man.
She had the impression of shaggy brown hair and a bushy beard.
In a split-second, the intruder’s gaze went from her to Eli.
Without uttering a sound, the stranger kicked the door shut and attacked.