Page 4 of Eden and her Mercenary
The van swung into the motel parking lot, taking the turn so sharply I swore it went up on two wheels. I pulled in after it, parking a few spaces away as the driver killed the engine and out stepped a slimbrunette woman.
She moved with urgency, yanking open the side door of the van and leaning in. I couldn't see what she was doing, but something about her movements struck me as frantic rather than intoxicated.
I killed my engine and stepped out, the cool night air hitting my face. "Hey!" I called out, striding toward her. "You nearly ran me off the road back there!"
She whipped around, and I froze mid-step. Her hand was wrapped around the grip of a revolver, that she stuck in my face,
"Back off," she warned, her voice steady despite the wild look in her eyes. "I don't have time for this."
I raised my hands slowly. "Whoa, easy. I'm not looking for trouble."
"Then get back in your truck and drive away." Her gaze flicked past me, scanning the empty parking lot. She was definitely running from something—or someone.
That's when I heard it—a soft whine coming from inside the van. She tensed at the sound, shifting her body to block my view.
"Are you transporting a dog?" I asked, lowering my hands slightly.
Surprise flickered across her face before she masked it. "What's it to you?"
"Nothing. Just... I like dogs, and you drive like an idiot.”
Her eyes narrowed, skepticism clear on her face. "Right. You followed me into a motel parking lot at night because you 'like dogs.' " Her grip on the revolver tightened.
"Look, I followed you because you almost killed me back there. Now I'm wondering what's got you so spooked that you're driving like you've got the devil on your tail." I took a careful step forward. "Maybe I can help."
She barked out a laugh. "Help? Unless you can make two armed men disappear, I doubt it."
That got my attention. "Armed men?"
A dog barked from inside the van—deep and throaty—followed by several others joining in. The woman glanced nervously over her shoulder. "I need to get these dogs inside. They've been cooped up too long."
"Let me help," I offered, taking another cautious step. "I'm Royal, by the way."
"Eden," she replied automatically, then immediately looked like she regretted giving me her name. "And no thanks. I've got it covered."
A pair of headlights swept across the parking lot entrance, and Eden dropped into a crouch, pulling me down with surprising strength.
"Get down!" she hissed.
I peered over the hood of her van. A black SUV with a dented front bumper crawled past the motel entrance, its driver scanning the parking lot. Even from this distance, I could make out the distinctive outline of a shotgun resting across the passenger's lap.
"Friends of yours?" I whispered.
"They want one of my dogs." Eden's voice was hard. "A pit bull mix named Stella."
The SUV continued down the road, disappearing around a bend.
"Okay," I said, making a decision. "Get your dogs. My place is about an hour from here, off-grid. No one will find you there tonight."
Eden stared at me, suspicion warring with the desperation in her eyes. "Why would you help me?"
I thought about the scars on my own back, the ones my stepfather had given me before I was big enough to fight back. "Let's just say I've got a thing about bullies."
She studied me for a long moment before nodding once. "I'll follow you. But I'm keeping my gun handy, and if this is some kind of trap—"
"It's not," I assured her. "I promise."
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