8. Scarlet
SCARLET
This motel was a bit nicer, at least. More up-to-date, comfortable.
The pillows weren’t lumpy, and the mattress was nice and firm without a groove worn into it by countless other bodies.
There was a convenience store on the other side of the parking lot where they sold fresh sandwiches and fried chicken and an endless array of snacks and treats for me to gorge on and soothe my nerves. Really, things could have been worse.
It was amazing the things I’d tell myself to make up for the anxiety tearing me apart.
It had only been one full day. That was it. I called Grayson on arrival, the way he told me to, and now I waited. How did the old song go? The waiting was the hardest part. Ain’t that the truth.
I picked up a few magazines at the store, but I’d already read them cover to cover.
I had a tablet with plenty of books downloaded on it, but I was afraid to turn it on.
Could somebody track it the way they could track my phone?
I didn’t think to ask Grayson, and I didn’t want to call with a question like that.
He might get annoyed. I needed him too badly to risk pissing him off.
It wouldn’t be too much longer before he came back. I could wait until then.
But what if he didn’t? What if Dominic stopped him somehow?
As always, the question made my stomach ache. It didn’t matter how I told myself not to think about it or to even entertain a possibility. It was always there, lurking, waiting to catch me unaware.
There was nothing to do but wait with a wad of cash in the motel room’s safe, trying to distract myself to pass the time waiting on a man. Just like Mom always used to.
The thought made me wince at my reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink, my brush pausing midway through running down the length of my still-unfamiliar brown locks.
They were darker thanks to my recent shower, still hanging wet around my face.
If it weren’t for the box color changing my appearance, I could have been looking at her.
She was always waiting for a man to save her. She never needed to say it out loud for me to understand. I might not have when I was a kid, only vaguely aware of how sad and lost grown-ups could be.
When I got older, I understood the pattern better.
The days or even weeks of joy—brighter spirits, music playing in the morning while she ran the vacuum, the way she would sing softly while washing dishes.
She would walk around the house with hot rollers in her hair, telling me she was getting ready for a special date that night.
The very late nights or even early mornings when she would come home smelling like alcohol and a man’s cologne.
And then the late nights would be fewer and farther between. Sometimes, she would get ready to go out but never leave, holding fierce, whispered conversations behind her closed bedroom door. The damn thing was so thin I could hear every word…
“But you promised. That’s not what you said. What am I supposed to do now?”
The tears.
That was when things went well, when they ended amicably. More than once, it hadn’t been that way. Like the morning I got up for school to find her holding an ice pack over a black eye.
Always, the pattern would repeat itself. After a few months of hearing her swear off men forever, I would come home to find her humming, playing music, almost dancing around the house. I would know she found somebody new, and I would make a bet with myself on how long the good times would last.
How did I wind up repeating her mistake?
It had only happened once, but once was more than enough to leave me here, miles from home, sitting on a bed in a motel in the middle of nowhere, waiting to be rescued by a stranger whose violence terrified me almost as much as my arousal did.
Because he did arouse me, much more intensely than Dominic could ever have dreamed of, and it scared the hell out of me.
“Would you be proud if you saw me now?” I whispered to the otherwise empty room, where an old movie played on the television and did nothing to soothe the ache in my stomach and chest.
The ringing of the burner phone startled me into almost falling off the bed. I must have drifted off because there was now a different movie playing, and the light beyond the closed curtains was almost nonexistent. How had that happened? Fumbling for the phone, I answered breathlessly. “Hello?”
“I’m a few minutes away,” Grayson informed me. The sound of his voice, or the obvious strain in it, made my skin prickle in apprehension. “What room are you in?”
“Room ten,” I said, scrambling off the bed and going to the window to peer out. It was almost nightfall. The road beyond the motel had been chock-full of cars earlier, but the traffic had thinned out some. “Is everything okay?”
The silence I received in response didn’t do much for my racing heart. Something went wrong. What else could I expect? “I’ll explain when I get there.” He ended the call without another word, twisting me up inside. Well, he’s alive. That has to count for something.
But was Dominic? A tingle ran down my spine, and I immediately chastised myself. He was vile, he had hurt me, but that didn’t mean I should wish him dead. I couldn’t let go of who I was and what I believed because of him. He had already done enough damage without withering my humanity too.
Headlights swept over the pavement. Is that him? It had to be, the sleek Lexus rolling to a stop a few doors down from mine. Still, I waited, holding my breath until the door opened and Grayson stepped out.
Holy shit. He was wearing a suit. Just when I thought I had adjusted to how hot he was, he had to go and do something like that.
He looked a little rumpled, with a necktie hanging loose, the top button of his shirt open, and his hair mussed like he’d been running his fingers through it.
I gripped the curtain in my fist, my heart pounding for a very different reason this time.
Get it together, you idiot! I was in this mess because of a man, and now, I was practically drowning in my drool over another.
A man with a very dangerous temper. When would I learn?
I managed to calm myself down before Grayson reached the room and knocked softly.
His dark eyes crawled over me once I opened the door, and I immediately wished I had put on something nicer than an old T-shirt and yoga pants.
How was I supposed to know he’d choose now to show up?
Even so, his narrowed eyes and flared nostrils made me feel exposed. I might as well have been naked.
And I didn’t hate the feeling.
“So what happened?” I whispered as soon as he was inside. Now that he was back, sweet relief flooded my veins, pumped faster by my grateful heart. “You said you were going to get things worked out. Did you?”
His exhale brought to mind a bull preparing to charge. “In a manner of speaking.”
That didn’t bode well. The hope that was so close to blooming in my chest fizzled. “Oh.”
Just like before, he peered through the window. “Only taking precautions,” he told me as I watched him. “I drove around for an hour before finally heading this way, making sure I wasn’t followed. That isn’t even my usual car,” he added, referring to the black Lexus he’d arrived in.
I was starting to understand, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“Do you think he’s following you now too?
” I whispered, my eyes instantly filling with tears.
What was I expecting? For everything to magically work itself out?
Yes, I realized that was exactly what I’d hoped for—he would come to me and tell me everything was over, and Dominic was going to let me go.
How did I expect Grayson to work that out?
I didn’t have the first clue, and now I was ashamed of myself for being so painfully na?ve. Again.
“I’ve got to ask you.” He stripped off his suit jacket, though, with the mood I was in, I couldn’t bring myself to admire the effect.
All it took was severe disappointment to murder my libido.
“You had to know who he was, or at least the sort of person he was. Garibaldi, the name had to be familiar.”
“Right.” I knew this was coming, even though I hoped he wouldn’t use it against me. He might not have come out and done that yet, but it was inevitable. “This is all my fault for hooking up with the wrong guy, right? That’s what you’re saying.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m saying,” he muttered, but I wasn’t fooled. Guilt was written across his stupid face, drawing his brows together. “It’s only that I have to wonder how a person who seems intelligent would willingly walk into a relationship with a mafia captain.”
Snapping my fingers, I retorted, “Wouldn’t you know it?
He didn’t have it printed on his business card.
” He rolled his eyes, scoffing, which only made things worse.
“I wasn’t thinking about that when I met him.
I told you I was overwhelmed, dazzled. My mom died when I was fourteen,” I blurted out before stopping to think.
His eyelids fluttered. I’d taken him by surprise. “Oh.” If he was surprised by that, I couldn’t blame him. It sort of came out of nowhere.
“My point is, life’s been kind of hard for a long time.
I went straight to work as soon as I aged out of the system.
So I’m sorry if having a man walk into my life who could instantly make my problems go away looked pretty damn appealing.
But come on,” I invited. “Let’s start blaming the victim. By all means.”
He still had the nerve to heave a sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I only asked a question.”
“A loaded question.”
“Whatever you say.”