Page 90 of Four Seconds to Lose

I shrug. “Why else would I be here?”

Cain plants a kiss on each cheek, followed by one on my nose, and then he lays a deep one on my lips, pulling a moan out of my throat. “You’ll be well taken care of, I can promise you that.”

A twinge of guilt pricks at me. “How about we see how it goes. Temporary assignment, okay? We might not be able to stand each other after a week.”

Cain shakes his head. “Sure, Charlie. But somehow I’m highly doubting that. Come on.” I get a playful slap across the ass and I beam, silently commending myself for keeping that dark, broody Cain from shutting me out. “Let’s get you some clothes and then we can go out to eat.”

¦¦¦

“Hey, Kyle!” The slightly awkward security guard offers me a crooked smile as I walk through the revolving door of the extended-stay motel, as I have every Monday morning for months now, a coffee in hand and a low-cut T-shirt on person.

“Hey, Charlie.” He watches me walk up, his eyes appraising me. “I didn’t think you were coming in.”

Deliveries arrive by nine a.m. and I’m always here at exactly nine fifteen. Glancing at my clock, I note that it’s almost ten thirty. It’s the first time I’ve ever been late.

I had to get away from Cain, something I haven’t done in days. He’s been within arm’s reach the entire time and I’ve loved every second of it. Most of the time, we’re either at Penny’s or at his place. I’ve even started using the gym in his building.

I couldn’t have him coming with me to pick up the latest burner phone, so I used the excuse that I needed clothes from my apartment. He told me to just pack my suitcase and bring everything over.

Cain was telling the truth. He doesn’t know how to date and he sure as hell doesn’t take things slow.

“I know. Traffic. Biscayne Boulevard is backed up with all the construction.”

“Huh... that might explain it. Maybe the delivery guy is stuck in it too, because there’s no package yet.”

My stomach clenches. He can’t be stuck in it because there isn’t any construction on Biscayne Boulevard right now, as shocking as that is.

So, why isn’t there a package for me?

Trying to appear calm, I let my eyes roam the lobby area, looking for something suspicious. Something dangerous.

Like Jimmy.

Or Sam. Would he break his rule and fly down here for me?

“Maybe. Oh well!” I give my best ditzy girl giggle as I hand him his coffee. What does this mean? I’m sure it means something. Do I still pitch my current burner phone? Do I call Sam? I haven’t spoken to him since confronting him about the real Charlie Rourke and I have no idea what he’s going to say.

Do I run as if the building is about to explode?

Suddenly I feel like an easy target, as if I’m standing in the middle of an open field with a slew of guns trained on me.

Kyle happily takes a sip of his coffee, oblivious to the danger and pretending not to be checking out my chest. I start babbling some nonsense about a party I didn’t go to on Saturday, pretending not to notice.

All I want to do right now is get out of here.

I don’t know that I can last the compulsory fifteen minutes. I don’t know that I can last five minutes. Luckily, I’m not forced to find out, because the trill sound of the burner phone in my pocket starts to ring.

“I’ve got to take this, Kyle. I’m so sorry,” I offer, abruptly turning and heading toward the revolving doors as I root through my purse. The second I step out onto the sidewalk, I’m scanning my surroundings, looking for some indication that I’m being followed. I see nothing. I’ve seen nothing for a week now and I’ve been watching closely for any signs of a tail.

On the fifth ring, I answer, clenching my muscles to avoid peeing my pants.

“Hello?”

“Hello, little mouse. How are things?” His greeting is much more pleasant than I had anticipated. It’s as though our last conversation never happened.

“Fine. Except the delivery didn’t arrive this morning.”

“Yes, I know. I meant to call you earlier about that. I’m sorry if that worried you.” This is odd. He’s acting so... considerate. I see flashes of gymnastics trials and school plays, of Sam standing with armloads of flowers, garnering attention from parents around as the doting stepfather. Of hoisting me up onto Black Jack’s saddle with a twinkle in his eye.

---