Page 35 of Crimson Storm

Besides, I wasn’t sure as a guy he could even use the men’s room with handcuffs on.

Withdrawing Glenn’s keyring from my pocket, I gestured for Shane to extend his hands to me. I unlocked the cuffs with a stern warning. “I’m going in with you. Iama pacifist, but I assure you that won’t stop me from doing whatever is necessary to protect my friends.”

He rubbed one of his wrists then the other. “Yeah. I get it. It wasn’t that long ago I watched you all kill my uncle.”

Ouch.“That’s right. And all it would take is a swipe of my hand to break your neck.”

“Really Abigail. The tough act isn’t necessary, and it doesn’t suit you. Besides, if you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”

“Try to run or call for help, and you’ll see exactly how well it suits me. I may not kill you, but I was trained in self-defense and hand to hand combat. I know lots of ways to hurt a person.”

I half expected Shane to laugh at my threat—it sounded ridiculous to my own ears—but he simply nodded. We climbed out of the cab together, heading toward the truck stop’s hospitality area.

Once inside, Shane went to the men’s room while I waited just outside the door. Several other men entered during the next few minutes.

Only then did it occur to me—Shane could easily tell one of them he’d been kidnapped. He could ask them to call the police or to borrow their phone so he could do it.

Heart racing, I flung open the door and started inside. A hefty man in a worn Harley t-shirt and cowboy boots was coming out. He grinned widely.

“Well, hey there. Ladies’ room is at the other end of the hall.”

The grin turned lascivious as he got a good look at my outfit, the heavy makeup and clothes I’d borrowed from Larkin. “Or, if you want to come in here, I’ll be happy to act as your personal escort.”

For a moment I was frozen in indecision. My claims to Shane hadn’t been false. I was quite capable of defending myself and could easily best this human man physically. But I didn’t want to start any kind of altercation. It would draw attention to us, and if I did hurt the man and reveal my superior strength, out me as a vampire.

My face had been all over the news in California. Had it been here in Nevada as well? I had the colored contacts in, but if someone looked closely enough, they might recognize me as an escapee and “murderer.”

“Oh. No. My mistake. Sorry.” I tried backing out of the men’s room, but the smiling man shot out a hand to grab my wrist and started dragging me inside.

“Stop. Let me go.” My breathing accelerated, and I could feel my fangs emerging from my gums. I ducked my head to hide them and attempted to dig my heels into the painted concrete floor.

Just then Shane rounded the corner from the stall area. I’d never been so happy to see his face. When he spotted me, his brows shot up before lowering over angry eyes.

He strode toward us and slid an arm around my back, settling his hand at my waist in a possessive gesture.

“What are you doing in here sweetheart? Is the ladies’ room full?”

Sweetheart?Oh. It took me a minute to react, but I played along.

“Yes. The line is out the door,” I lied. “And then I ran into this man when I was coming in.”

The Harley guy, who’d released my wrist the instant he’d spotted Shane, held both hands up in the universal sign for surrender.

“Sorry man. I should have been watching where I was going.” Darting his eyes to me, he mumbled, “Sorry,” then turned and left the bathroom.

Shane’s perturbed gaze followed him out the door then swung around to meet mine.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

One of the men who’d entered the bathroom after Shane rounded the corner from the stalls and went to a sink. He snuck repeated glances at us while he washed his hands.

Aware of him, I avoided Shane’s question. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Noticing the man as well, Shane nodded in understanding. “Go on back to the truck. I’m going to wash up and grab some bottled water and snacks, and I’ll meet you out there in a minute.”

“I’d rather wait for you,” I said. But the hand-washing man was now looking directly at me.

Did he recognize me? Maybe it was just the skimpy outfit. He probably thought I was one of those women who hung around truck stops looking for “customers.”

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