Page 56 of Savage Princess

The clerk at the counter barely glances at me when I push the basket towards him, scanning the items and dropping them into plastic bags as if he’d rather be anywhere else right now. He looks younger than me, with dark curly hair and exhausted-looking eyes, and when I shove the handful of blood-stained money at him, he looks up at me.

His expression is less startled than I would have thought, which tells me exactly how dangerous the part of town I’m in is.

“Just give me the change,” I tell him, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel. “I’m in a hurry.”

He swallows, glancing at me as if he’s expecting some huge, dangerous man to materialize behind me any second, instead of just me in my now-torn dress and heels and destroyed hair. But he finally shrugs, counting the money and shoving about half the roll back at me, handing me the plastic bag.

“Thanks,” I whisper, grabbing it. The entire situation feels surreal, and I need to get back to the motel. I want to be behind a barricaded door, away from what feels like too much open space, too many variables.

One of those variables accosts me almost as soon as I step back out onto the street.

“Well, hello there, little lady.”

The rough, accented voice almost stops me in my tracks. My heart leaps into my throat immediately–if no one ever calls me ‘little lady’ for the rest of my life, it’ll be too soon–but I keep walking, clutching the plastic bag as I try not to trip in my heels. My feet are going to hurt for weeks after this, I know it.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I keep walking. A shadow passes me on my right, and before I know it, a man twice my size is in front of me, blocking my path.

“Excuse me,” I mumble, trying to go around him, but he steps to one side, stopping me. When I try to duck to the left, he does the same, one beefy arm shooting out and slapping his palm against the wall of the building next to us, caging me in.

I stop, glaring up at him with as much defiance as I have to muster up from the very depths of my soul. “What do you want?” I snap, shifting the bag so I can try to grab the gun out of Levin’s jacket if I need to. I can’t run, this man will catch up to me in seconds, even if I can get past him.

“I was watching you in that store,bonita.” He grins at me, showing two missing teeth in an otherwise wide mouth. “You looked pretty desperate.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” I try to duck around him again, but he stops me.

“Is someone hurt?” He glances at the bag in my arm. “Maybe someone you care about, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tip my chin up, narrowing my eyes at him. “I have somewhere to be, if you don’t mind—”

He scratches his chin, still blocking me from passing him by. He’s tall–six foot three at least, and muscled in a strongman kind of way that I know I have no defense against. “This part of town—not all that unusual to see some guy’s wife trying to get things to patch him up.”

“Again, not your business.” I try to force as much calm into my voice as I can—calm but firm.Maybe he’ll get the hint.Most men I’ve encountered since leaving home, I’ve learned, don’t understand hints. They don’t even understand a directget the fuck away from me.

He looks at the bag again, peering through the plastic. “Saw you picking up lots of medical supplies in there. Someone’s hurt, hm? Must be pretty bad for all of that.”

I don’t answer, gritting my teeth. I don’t know what the solution is, if this man doesn’t leave me alone. I’m not even sure what he wants.

He leans against the wall, still blocking me, and as I try to shift to one side to go around again, he reaches out, one broad hand grabbing my shoulder and forcing me to step back or trip. “You ever seen a wound go bad?” he asks, as conversationally as if we were talking about the weather.

I shake my head mutely.

“Nasty thing, that. Gets real sick-looking. All green and yellow. Pus everywhere. Then the infection sets in deeper. Fever, chills. Dehydration. A man with that kind of fever—a horrible sight. Delirious, begging for someone to help them. You know it’s real bad when you start seeing the red streaks coming up from the wound. Blood poisoning, sepsis. Hell of a way to die. You’ve got a decent start with what I saw you put in that basket, but that’s not gonna save your man, if he’s got a real bad wound.”

My chest clenches, my stomach turning over at the description. I can envision what he’s talking about all too well, and I can feel my eyes burn at the thought of that happening to Levin. At the idea that even my best efforts might not be enough to save him, if it comes to something like that.

“Course, a hospital could fix him up just fine. But you can’t take him to the hospital, or you wouldn’t be in a store this late, dressed like that, buying those sorts of things. Whatever your man is mixed up in, it’s the kind of thing that means he’s in a motel room somewhere, passed out while you do your best. And hell, little lady, I’m impressed. Not every man has a woman so dedicated. Or maybe you owe him something. Either way—”

He rubs his hand over his chin again, and I let out a frustrated breath.

“What do you want?” I snap, feeling the exhaustion starting to blur the edges of my ability to think, to react again. “If you’ve figured me out so well, then you know I need to be getting back. So let me by. I don’t have anything for you.”

“Sure you do. Just like I got something for you.”

I roll my eyes. I can’t help it. I’m sofuckingtired of men who think they’re owed something, who think they have a right to me because I’m something they want. “You’re not the first man to suggest he’s going to take what he wants from me tonight,” I snap at him. “Either get on with whatever you’re going to do, orfucking let me by.I’m done with this.”

He starts to laugh. Not a snicker or a chuckle, but a full-bellied laugh that tells me I’ve thoroughly amused him, and somehow that just pisses me off that much more.

“I’ve got antibiotics,” he tells me, still grinning. “And if you’ve got money—or some other way to pay–” his gaze rakes over me lasciviously at that, “–then I’ve got what you actually need to keep this man of yours from dying in whatever shitty motel you’ve got him laid up in.”

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