Page 39 of The Highwaymen

My hands tightened on the wheel, a cold fury knotting in my gut. If that bastard wasn't already dead, I'd hunt him down myself and smash his skull in with my bare hands. No one got to hurt the kid like that. No one but me.

Jesus. I gave myself a hard mental shake, disturbed by the direction of my thoughts. I was getting too attached, too possessive. Letting my emotions cloud myjudgment.

I forced myself to focus on the road ahead, on the neon jungle of vice and sin closing in around us. “We'll get a couple rooms, lie low for a week or two,” I said gruffly. “Long enough to get healed up and let things cool off with Romeo. Then we'll figure out our next move.”

“A motel?” Tammy said, smoke curling from her nostrils. “Classy. You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Stu.”

I scowled at Tammy in the rearview mirror. “You wanna go back to working the corners, be my guest. Me and the kid'll manage just fine on our own.”

Tammy flipped me off, blowing a smoke ring. “Fuck you very much.”

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes darting between us. “Whatever fleabag motel is fine by me. I'm not picky. I've slept in worse places.”

There it was again, that hint of old hurt in his voice that set my teeth on edge. Made me want to wrap my hands around the throat of every sick fuck who'd ever laid a finger on him.

I pushed the thought away, pulling into the parking lot of the SleepEazy Motel. The flickering neon sign was missing several letters, dubbing it the 'Sle zy'. Classy joint.

“Stay put,” I ordered as I threw the truck into park. “I'll go get us a pair of rooms.”

The clerk behind the bullet-proof glass barely glanced up from his porno mag as I slid a couple of twenties through the slot. He passed me back two sets of keys attached to plastic diamond-shaped fobs.

“Rooms sixty-nine and seventy,” he drawled, already turning back to his magazine. “Check out's at noon. No refunds.”

I grunted my acknowledgment and scooped up the keys, heading back out to the rig. Jamie was leaning against the passenger door, smoking one of Tammy's Virginia Slims. The red glow illuminated hisangular face, casting shadows beneath those sharp cheekbones. Damn, but he was a pretty thing.

“Got the rooms,” I said gruffly, jerking my chin toward the faded pink doors. “You and me will take sixty-nine. Tammy will be next door in seventy.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

I snorted. “Just a room number, kid. Don't read into it.”

But even as I said it, I couldn't stop my gaze from dropping to his mouth, to those full, sinful lips wrapped around the cigarette. Jamie noticed, his smirk widening into a wicked grin. He took a long, slow drag, hollowing his cheeks obscenely.

Fuck. The little tease was playing with fire and he damn well knew it. Blood rushed south as I watched him, pooling heavy in my groin. I shifted, my pants suddenly way too tight.

Jamie blew out the smoke in a long exhale, his tongue snaking out to wet his lips. “Whatever you say, Stu.”

Goddamn. I nearly swallowed my tongue at that.

Tammy rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag from the sleeper cab. “I'm gonna go grab a shower. You boys have fun.”

“Hold up.” I counted out a portion of the cash and shoved it in her hands. “You’re gonna need some new clothes and supplies. Don’t go hog wild, though. Funds are limited.”

“This is Vegas, baby,” she said with a grin. “Your funds are only limited by your imagination.”

She sauntered off toward her room, her hips swaying. I watched her go, trying like hell to get my body back under control. It was one thing to acknowledge that Jamie was attractive in an objective sense. The kid had the kinda looks that could stop traffic. But it was anotherthing entirely to pop a stiffie every time he so much as glanced in my direction.

I grabbed my gear from behind the seat, slinging the duffel over my shoulder. “C'mon,” I grunted. “Let's get settled in.”

Jamie took one last drag before flicking the cigarette away. The lit end pinwheeled through the air, landing on the oil-stained asphalt. He grabbed the duffel bag full of money and fell into step beside me as we headed for the room.

The key stuck in the lock, forcing me to jiggle it a few times before the door finally creaked open. I stepped inside the dingy motel room, Jamie close on my heels. The air smelled stale, like old cigarette smoke and industrial cleaner.

A sagging queen-sized bed dominated the small space, its comforter a garish paisley print that might have been fashionable back in the seventies. A battered dresser with a chipped veneer squatted against one wall, an ancient TV bolted to its top. Limp floral curtains hung at the window, blocking out the neon glow of the Strip.

I dropped my duffel on the bed, the springs groaning under its weight. Jamie shut the door behind us, flipping the deadbolt with a soft snick. The sound made my pulse kick up a notch.

We were alone. Really alone, for the first time since this whole crazy roller coaster had started. No Tammy chain smoking in the passenger seat, no imminent threat of a gangbanger's bullet in the back. Just me and Jamie, shut away from the world in this crummy little room.

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