Page 3 of Savage Princess

“Yes. A few times, on jobs,” I tell her briefly as we walk, slowly for the sake of her ankle, keeping my head on a swivel for anyone the captain might have sent after us to grab Elena and take her back. He’d agreed to me coming back with the money later, but I haven’t lived so long in my field of work by believing everything everyone tells me. “That’s how I know where we should be able to stay tonight.”

I don’t have any intention of getting that money back to the captain. Whatever cash I can come up with, Elena and I are going to need to get back to Boston. I’m going to need to get her out of here as quickly as I can.

“Do you like it here?” she presses, her voice a little too high for genuine cheer. I can tell she’s trying to make conversation, trying to lift both of our spirits, but what I want more than anything right now is silence. I need to think about what our next steps are. Literally and figuratively—Elena needs to get off of that ankle before it starts to swell and bother her again. The days on the ship were good for her to sit and heal, and the swelling had mostly gone down when I checked it last night, but she’s not a hundred percent yet.

“It’s as good as any other place.” I glance over at her. “When we get to the hotel, Elena, let me do the talking. Alright? Just follow my lead.”

Her eyes narrow the tiniest bit, but she nods. “Of course,” she says finally, letting out a long breath as she keeps pace with me. “Whatever you say.”

There’s an edge to her voice that I wish wasn’t there. I know she’s upset with me, that she’s hurt by what I’d said when she talked to me on the deck. I know she wanted me to say something different.

It’s better if she’s hurt. If she keeps her distance, it’ll be easier to keep yours.

That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

I flag down a cab as we reach the main street, keeping an eye on Elena. The urge to put my hand on the small of her back or reach for her arm is strong, but I force it back. Touching her is only going to make this all worse—the more I can keep my hands off of her, the better. It’s been hard enough just tending to her injured ankle on the ship and struggling not to help her walk anytime she needed to get up.

I’m not so sure of my self-control any longer. Not after what happened on the beach.

Elena sits stiff and silent as we drive, her hands folded in her lap. She looks exhausted, probably from the nights sleeping uncomfortably below deck. I haven’t slept much either—sleeping meant time when I couldn’t keep an eye on her, and that felt like a risk I couldn’t take unless I absolutely had to.

“We’ll get some sleep once we get to the hotel,” I tell her, wanting to give her some reassurance. Something that makes her feel better.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep well anytime soon,” she says quietly, still looking out of the window. “Not until we’re out of here. Probably not until we get back to Boston.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll make sure of it. Just–try to get some rest.”

She starts to say something, her dark eyes flicking towards me, and then she just nods. “I’ll try,” she says finally, swallowing hard, and then she turns back to the window.

The hotel I take us to isn’t much to look at. It’s out of the way, which is what recommends it the most—a few streets off of a part of town that isn’t quite the slums, but isn’t particularly nice or touristy. It doesn’t get much business, which means there’s less of a chance that we’ll be noticed. It’s also not all that comfortable, but we’ll at least have a clean bed—most likely.

“Remember—”

“You do the talking.” Elena finishes the sentence as we get out of the cab and I pay, motioning for her to follow me as we walk toward the hotel. It’s a plain white-stucco structure with a sign above it and a neon one in the window flashingVacancy. I glance at Elena once more before reaching out to open the door. After what happened with the snake, I can’t help feeling that I need to keep my eyes on her at all times, just to make sure she doesn’t disappear again.

“Exactly.” I push open the door, and a small bell chimes, letting whoever is at the desk know we’re there.

The person at the desk turns out to be a pointy-faced man who looks to be in his early twenties, who also looks as if he’s entirely over being on his shift at the hotel. He barely looks up at us as I walk up to the desk, which is fine with me. The fewer eyes on us, the better, as far as I’m concerned.

“Two rooms,” I tell him flatly. “Upper floor if you can.”

“How are you paying?” He still doesn’t look up, tapping on an ancient-looking keyboard.

“I’m not. Tell Hernandez a man at your desk saidel lobo mira.He’ll know what that means.”

The man—more of a boy, really—does look up at that. “I don’t know about–”

“Call him if you want.” I give him a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t turn up very far at the edges. “He’ll tell you to get us two rooms, upper floor, just as I asked. If there’s one with a door connecting them, make it those. Don’t worry about payment.”

I feel Elena shift next to me, and I know she has an opinion about the two rooms. I know she was expecting me to get us one room, so I could keep an eye on her, and that she was hoping to take advantage of that. But I can keep an eye on her while still putting a solid door between me and what she wants.

“I’m going to have to call him—” The clerk hesitates as if he’s calling my bluff, but there’s no bluff to call.

“Go ahead, son. Give him a call.”

The clerk’s eyebrows are somewhere up near his hairline now, but he reaches for the equally ancient-looking phone, keeping an eye on me as he waits for someone to pick up.

“Mr. Hernandez? Yeah, it’s Matteo. I’ve got a man here who says he doesn’t need to pay for rooms. Yeah, I know that’s fucking weird. He said to tell youel lobo mira, which sounds just as—”

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