Page 85 of Corrupt Me

I’d done nothing but trust him thus far. Why start doubting him now?

The tension in my shoulders released. “Fine, but I better not wake up in the middle of the night with you breathing over me and a knife in your hand.”

He chuckled despite not wanting to find anything about me amusing. “Lay off the horror movies, Shortcake.” He held out his hand, palm up, silently requesting I return his phone.

I saw an opportunity to bargain and took it, holding his phone hostage. “I can’t stay here.”

“Too late.” He held up his hand, a key dangling from his middle finger. “Give me the phone before I crawl into your seat and make you wish I hadn’t let you borrow it.”

“Do you always have to resort to threats?”

Tristan grinned, flashing those dimples I rarely saw, and I wished I hadn’t taunted him because his smile did immoral things to my insides. “It gets the job done.” He crooked a fingerat his phone, waiting for me to yield my possession of the device, but as I dropped it into his waiting palm, his brows grew closer. “Why do you look so spooked?”

My eyes zoomed to where the car had been parked only to see it was no longer there, making me wonder if it had been there at all. This motel had the eerie fun house atmosphere known to play tricks on the mind. “Because this place gives me the creeps.”

Tristan’s knee hit the keychain swinging from the key still in the ignition. “Well, you better find a way to chill. Eat an edible or something. The night’s not over yet.”

My gaze flew up from the back and forth swaying metal ring to Tristan’s. “Now what?” The attitude couldn’t be stopped from entering my tone. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. The motel was my tipping point.

He turned the key, starting the engine. “I need to take care of something.” He checked the side mirrors before shifting the car into drive.

“Right now?” I shrieked. As much as the motel gave me the ick, I’d really been looking forward to climbing in bed and tackling this paper I had due in two days. My plans for the night didn’t include traipsing around all night with Tristan. “What about takeout?”

He steered the Mustang into a parking spot. “You can stay in the room. I won’t be long.”

My plans also didn’t include me alone in a serial killer’s playroom. “Fuck no. You’re not leaving me. I refuse to get out of this car. If you’re leaving, I’m coming with you.”

“You’re lucky I’m in no mood to argue.” Not waiting to see if I would follow, Tristan grabbed my bag from the back and started for our room.

I scrambled after him, sticking to his heels like glue. “That’s a first,” I muttered.

He put the key into the lock and turned the key. This establishment hadn’t seen updates ever. They had actual keys instead of the key cards I was used to. “Before we go anywhere, you need to change.” Holding the door for me, he hung outside until I walked through.

“Why? What’s wrong with what I have on?” I came to an immediate halt.Fuck me.This was worse than any picture my imagination could have drummed up.

I’d never seen so much brown in a room. It wasn’t just off-putting; it churned my gut, and I felt myself go green. My hand pressed into the wall. Instant regret. Something sticky now coated my fingers. I yanked my hand off the wall, a gross expression on my face as I looked for something to wipe off the filth. “I’m going to be sick.” The color of the sheets made it impossible to tell if they were used or meant to be that putrid shade.

“You’re not puking in my Mustang again.”

“I got out of the car if you recall,” I shot back, smearing my hand on the front of my shirt.

“Barely. Did you bring something black to wear?”

“Is that the shade we’re going with? The color of your heart?”

“You got me all figured out, Shortcake.”

I rolled my eyes, taking my bag and plopping it on the bed before I unzipped the clasp. “You’re in luck,” I said, digging out a basic black cropped top I normally slept in and a pair of ripped shorts the same dark hue.

He spared the clothes nothing but a flicker of his attention. “As if we have much of a choice.”

Taking my clothes, I flipped him off and strutted into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Huge mistake. I couldn’t breathe. The stench of mold and bleach overwhelmed my senses. It was like someone had desperately tried to scrub the small room clean and failed miserably.

“God, I don’t want to touch anything,” I muttered to myself. Pretty sure I would beg Tristan to let me sleep in his car tonight. Hell, I might even get on my knees for the blanket I knew he had stashed in his trunk.

Careful to touch as little as possible, I stripped and slipped on my clothes in record time. I threw open the bathroom door and dashed out, going straight for the exit. My fingers fumbled with the handle, swinging the door that led outside open also. With greedy, deep breaths, I consumed the night’s fresh air.

I turned around to where Tristan leaned against the wall. His phone was in his hand, but his eyes were on me, scoping me out from head to toe. Without saying a word about my outfit, he lifted a brow.

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