Page 77 of Love Undercover
What Chase should have done was kept them moving as soon as they’d left, maybe going from one motel to the next, not going to his friend.
Kyle’s blood was now on his hands.
He swallowed against the pressure that built in his chest The guilt gnawed at his gut, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed the grief that threatened because it was his fault.
He’d thought seeking an ally was smartest, that contacting his boss would help, offer safety. All it had done was get his friend killed, and taking with it any hope that he could drop Sadie off at home, let her go back to her life as usual.
It had died as soon as he’d seen that list. His belief in the good guys had perished just as swiftly. What was the fucking point?
If only it had just been Santiago and Travers. He could have taken her home that very night since things there were finished. But now Zimmerman knew about her, and whoever he’d send next and whatever he did would be another level of bad that Chase couldn’t afford to ignore.
And that meant doing things alone. Otherwise, Kyle’s death wouldn’t be the only one on his conscience.
So one motel tonight. A new one the next night. And the next. Until he could decide what to do. Until he could figure out how to make the whole thing end. Because he couldn’t go back to Zim now, pretend like he was still a faithful employee. Zimmerman would undoubtedly kill him. And if he didn’t, Gibson would make sure of it to cover his own ass.
So the only option was for Chase to make it all end. Now.
He drove a circuitous route for two hours until he had to stop for gas. He pulled on a fresh shirt from his bag before going inside to grab a few snacks and supplies, then wound around until he found the most remote town that still had a motel.
At some point, Santiago had forced them all to cross state lines to get to his little warehouse, so Chase had to bring them back toward familiar territory, if not somewhere they actually knew or were known. The place he found listed itself as an inn, though looking at it proved it was a dubious label. He just hoped the linens were clean.
Sadie never stirred, even sleeping through his check-in process, only waking when he opened her door to carry herinside. She was groggy as she nuzzled into his neck, but she gripped and held on with a fierceness that made his heart ache.
They were both still damp, and she shivered in his arms as he brought her inside and set her on one of the queen beds.
She looked around dazedly, her mouth turning down as she took in the shabby details of the room.
“Want me to run a hot shower for you?” he offered, spying a robe hanging from a hook on the bathroom door.
She lifted a shoulder, her eyes unfocused.
He took that as a yes. The way she curled in on herself and continued to shiver, he figured it would be a good idea whether she agreed or not. Anything to help ease that look on her face.
He took a relieved breath in the bathroom as he turned the shower on. He couldn’t stand seeing her in that state anymore. Not when he was part of the reason she looked that way. She’d been pushed beyond her limits. And sure, he had been too. But he knew how to handle it. Had been in similar positions before. Not normal. Buthisnormal.
For too long.
He watched the steam billow and fill the room, and a shiver crested over his body as the heat seeped into him.
He didn’t want this to be his normal anymore. He had to get out. He wanted it to end.
He no longer wanted to be the convenient choice for dangerous undercover work. It was inevitable now that he was in this position, knowing what he had to do to end this job. He’d have to go to the higher-ups to take everyone down, reveal who he was and who he really worked for.
But who and how? The reality continued to sink in that he didn’t know who to trust.
He shook himself from his thoughts and turned to find Sadie standing in the doorway. She wasn’t looking at him, but his skinflushed anyway. She barely seemed to register what was even before her, didn’t move further into the room.
He took her hand gently. She didn’t flinch as he’d expected her to, so he tugged her into the bathroom. She kept moving forward and crashed into him, burrowing against him.
He lifted his free hand to stroke her head in a soothing motion, finding more solace in the gesture than maybe she did. She didn’t cry, but he felt the pressure of the need through her body against his.
“Just take a shower,” he murmured. “Get warm. Put on the robe. You’ll feel better.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled against him, hiding her face as she pulled away and moved around him.
He shuffled out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
The duffel and the rest of his gear were still in the car, so he went out to retrieve it. He threw the bag onto the bed and stuffed the extra weapons he’d stashed on his body back inside to keep them out of sight then took out his extra clothes. He started to change then caught sight of the dried blood on his calf, sitting on the edge of the bed to inspect the damage. Maybe a bullet graze. Maybe broken glass. He had no idea, could barely tell, didn’t much care.
