Page 26 of Break for Me

“Death.”

He turned his head to look at me then. He’d left every light off in the room to be sure our stalker couldn’t see inside the room, but the tiny bit of light from the parking lot illuminated his face well enough for me to see his very curious expression.

“Why would you think he’s here to kill you if you don’t know who he is?” He asked.

“You don’t think he is?”

“I actually don’t know who he is,” he said. “So, I genuinely don’t know his purpose here.”

“My point was that you can still sleep tonight,” I said and laughed. “If the last couple of days have been the well-rested version of you, I don’t think I want to meet the overly tired, cranky one tomorrow.”

The genuine smile on his face when he looked at me that time had me shifting to get myself under the comforter on the bed so I could squeeze my legs together and ignore what was happening in between them. And God help me. When he rolled his bottom lip in between his teeth. Fuck.

“Well, I don’t plan on dying alongside you at any point on this trip,” he said. “This is where I’ll be. Watching him watch us.”

That was apparently for the fucking best. He needed to keep physical distance between us because I didn’t even trust myself at this point. I was still just as happy to be able to embrace mobility of my arm for the span of a night, and the possibility of sleeping in any position that I wanted without being restricted by another arm zip tied to mine. I didn’t even bother turning on the TV this time either.

twenty-one

JERSEY

Listening to her nonstop snoring for hours in an otherwise totally silent world had me considering smothering her like she’d threatened me with the night before. I was frustrated by the lack of movement from the room that I was watching. It frustrated me even more to have to consider that he wasn’t worried about me so he might’ve been peacefully sleeping the night away. He was the one following and I was the one in possession of the payday so he wasn’t at all concerned about me. I couldn’t leave her here to go after him, and he knew that too. Either way, I wanted that license plate number and I wanted to be away from this motel before the sun was up.

I let her sleep for a solid five hours or so. Snore. I let her snore for a solid five hours before I abandoned my window seat and went to the side of the bed where she was asleep. She’d squirmed partially out from underneath the comforter and everything inside my very existence wanted to wake her up by sticking my finger under the bottom of those ridiculously small spandex volleyball shorts that were failing miserably to cover her entire ass cheek just to pull them away and snap her skin with them. At the same time, I was very aware that touching her skin would probably be detrimental to the success of this job. So, I took a pillow from the bed behind me and hit her in the head with it, like a mature adult. She rolled clear off the other side of the bed and hit the floor with the single most satisfying thud that I’d ever heard in my life. She rocketed to her feet half a second later with her hands already balled into grumpy little fists at her sides.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I said and tossed the pillow at her again. “Time to go.”

She caught the pillow with a very annoyed growl. I chuckled and turned back for the bathroom.

“You couldn’t just say my fucking name like a normal person?” She screeched. I froze right where I was when that pillow hit me in the back of the head. She’d followed me part of the way across the room to make sure her aim wouldn’t miss when she’d thrown it, but by the time I’d turned fully to face her, she already had both hands raised in front of her and pure terror on her face, very much regretting what she’d done.

“So,” she whimpered, taking a step backward. “Let me start this apology by saying I’m not a morning person.”

I was across the room and in her face before she could say another word. And my proximity kept her silent while I backed her toward the chair where I’d spent the night.

“Sit here and watch that fucking window while I get ready. If you see movement from anything at all, tell me,” I said and pushed her down into the chair by her throat.

I nearly needed a cold fucking shower by the time I’d closed myself in the bathroom. Christ. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why fucking her into submission was the first thing that crossed my mind out there. Everything about how afraid she was when it came to me sent entire shockwaves of lust straight to my dick. The more time I spent close to her, the more I was convincing myself that she was enjoying it in her own fucked up way too. Memphis had been telling me for years that I needed a therapist. And I’d been ignoring her for years. Couldn’t help but acknowledge now that she might be right on this one.

This was definitely a new problem for my world. These jobs didn’t usually involve women who looked like her. Or even women who acted like her. This line of work usually involved men. And occasionally, a fucking horse, as it turned out. But a young, gorgeous woman who was street smart and had the kind of mouth that spoke too quickly for its own good with full lips that, no doubt, looked like sin in the flesh wrapped around a cock? That shit didn’t even seem possible in real life. I should’ve taken her on that date when I had the chance before all this started. I should’ve spent an entire night fucking her like a madman before I tossed her ass in the trunk.

Yeah. Memphis was right. I absolutely needed therapy.

Trista was still sitting where I planted her when I came back out of the bathroom. I didn’t trust leaving her out here long enough for me to actually shower. So, I‘d brushed my teeth, straightened out my clothes, and waited just long enough for my raging hard-on to chill out a fucking little bit before I told her that it was her turn and that we were leaving in twenty minutes whether she was ready or not. I texted Memphis that we were about to head out to the car again and that I’d planned to send her a license plate for her to run through whatever magical system she used that spit out information for me.

Trista was in and back out of that bathroom in record time. Whether she really knew this pickup driving cowboy or not, she was ready to be away from him and she wanted that badly enough that she was willing to stick even closer to me to make it happen. She was waiting at the door while I gathered the last of our things. I took my lock from the door and put it in my own bag before I held out my hand for her backpack. I almost couldn’t fucking breathe when she smiled as she handed it over to me. It was the most sincere thing I’d ever seen her face do, and it was frustratingly remarkable.

“Go,” I demanded quickly.

Because what the fuck?

I followed her out to Seph and put all our stuff in the back seat while she sat in the front, keeping my eye on the motel room across the lot and the pickup in question. Nothing noticeable moved at any point so I was quick to get in and pull my phone out. I handed it over to Trista with the camera already open.

“When I drive by it, take a picture of the license plate,” I said.

She nodded at me. But I laughed when she tried to roll her window down. None of the buttons on her side of the car worked. Persephone was made for me and for this job. I pressed my button to roll her window all the way down and drove slowly by the truck. She very noticeably held her breath while we were close to the truck.

“Do you recognize the truck?” I asked when she handed the phone back to me.

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