Page 16 of The Prodigal

Again, he’s playing games. “Have you tried locating Eve? Surely, I’m not the only guest in this dump.”

He’s one of two guests, but Frankie barely puts together his weekly rent. There’s no way he ordered this.

“You know there’s not an Eve at this motel,” I argue.

“Well, then eat it—like you do everyone else’s meals.”

It’s like I can hear the smile in his words. Clearly, he’s in a better mood after having dinner.

“I had a few of your friesone time, and you act like I’m—” The lobby door is yanked open, and the snappy retort dies on my tongue. “Thank—” I clear my throat, while watching the man I never wanted to see again prowl forward. “Thank you for dinner, 101.”

I hang up the phone before Remington can sayor hearanything else. This asshole tends to get mouthy, and I don’t need Remington getting any pointers.

“Eden,” my stepfather drawls. “It’s been a long time.”

Not long enough. A few more decades would have been the more ideal time for a visit. “What are you doing here, Gerald?”

I have a good idea why he’s here, but asking him buys me time to reach under the counter for the bat that I keep for special customers. I watch enough true crime. I know the evil that lingers in the shadows, and this man and his wretched wife are its king and queen.

Gerald approaches the counter, his grin lazy and manipulative. “Can’t I visit my stepdaughter every once in a while?”

No. No, he can’t. That would indicate we are some kind of happy family—and we certainly are not.

“You need to leave. Now.”

My fingers wrap around the handle of the bat. Just knowing I could catch him in the jaw before he touches me is enough to settle the trembling in my hand.

“You forget that I’ve already asked you politely.” He stares back at me with eyes full of hatred. “I warned you not to make this difficult.”

And if he knew me, he would know that I’m always difficult. It’s part of my charm. “You did,” I agree. “And I wish I could help you. I really do. But unfortunately, my schedule isn’t as flexible as I would like right now.”

I flash him a smile of faux bravery. “But, I’ll tell you what. I’ll pencil you in when I have an opening. How does Wednesday look for you in about five years?”

I should have seen his reaction coming. After all, it’s one I’m well accustomed to, but it’s been many years since Gerald and I have had one of these bonding moments, so I’m startled when my back suddenly hits the wall, shattering the frame of motel regulations posted for the guests.

“You bitch!” His breath is beyond sour as a fine mist of spittle hits my face and his meaty fingers lock around my neck. “You think you can get away with speaking to me like that? You owe me!”

“I don’t—”

He squeezes tighter, cutting off my airway. “Your mother and I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Through the silence, I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears. No one would hear me scream at this hour. I’m alone in the middle of the night in a motel lobby that’s miles from the nearest town. It’s not the best situation to be in.

And in the seconds that follow, I almost let instinct take over and beg him to let me go.

But then I hear his voice. The dry, bored tone sends relief shooting through my body as Gerald’s head snaps up, seeing the same shadowy presence as me. The dark lord of sarcasm.

Remington.

He tosses the bag of sheets I left for him on the counter. “You know, Eve,” he muses, his eyes intently focused on the hand at my neck. “I’m a little jealous. I thought I was the only one you annoyed.”

I actually manage a smile as Gerald’s grip eases, and his murderous gaze narrows at Remington. “This is none of your business, boy.”

Remington lets out this dark chuckle, and it’s then I know it’s not me who should be scared.

Remington

Ihate cowards more than I hate the general public.

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