She nods, accepting this. "Will you... will you stay here tonight? In the room, I mean." A blush colors her cheeks. "I don't think I can be alone right now."
"I'm not going anywhere," I assure her. "I'll be right here."
Relief washes over her face. "Thank you."
As we clean up, Olivia yawns, the exhaustion of the day clearly catching up with her again despite her earlier nap.
"You should get some rest," I tell her. "It's been a long day."
She nods, gathering her toiletries from her bag. "I'm going to take a shower first, if that's okay."
"Of course. Take your time."
As she disappears into the bathroom, I check my phone again, reading through the rest of Knight's report on Devin. Each detail confirms what I already suspected. The man is a time bomb, and Olivia is lucky to have gotten away before he did even worse damage.
Tomorrow's confrontation can't come soon enough. The predator in me, the part that emerged in the war and was honed by the club, is eager for the hunt.
Because that's what this is now. A hunt. And Devin Mercer is the prey who doesn't know he's already being stalked.
The water runs in the bathroom as I continue planning. By the time Olivia emerges in sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her hair damp and her face free of makeup, I've mapped out three different approaches for tomorrow's meeting.
I try not to stare as she moves to her bed, but it's hard. Without makeup, the bruise around her eye is more pronounced, a sickly yellow-green that makes my blood boil. But she's still beautiful, still Olivia, even with the evidence of Devin's cruelty on her face.
"Your turn," she says softly, nodding toward the bathroom. "I left you a clean towel."
I gather my things and head to the shower, grateful for a moment alone to clear my head. The hot water helps ease the tension in my shoulders and the constant ache in my bad leg. As I wash away the day's stress, I try to focus on the mission, not the woman in the next room.
The woman I've loved since we were teenagers.
The woman who has no idea how I feel.
The woman who needs a protector right now, not another complication in her life.
Chapter 4 - Olivia
I sit cross-legged on the motel bed, staring at my phone as it buzzes for what must be the twentieth time in an hour. Devin's name flashes on the screen, along with the preview of his latest text:
*WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? ANSWER ME YOU STUPID B*
The rest gets cut off, but I can imagine what follows. My hands shake as I scroll through the earlier messages, each one worse than the last.
*You better be home when I get there*
*Are you cheating on me? Is that it?*
*You ungrateful bitch after everything I've done for you*
*You're nothing without me remember that*
*When I find you you'll regret this*
The voicemails are worse. His voice slurring with anger and probably alcohol, promising consequences I don't want to think about. I should delete them all, block his number, but something stops me. Evidence, maybe. Or the last remnants of the hope that kept me with him for so long.
The bathroom door opens, and I quickly set the phone face-down on the bed. Tyler emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that clings to his still-damp body. His hair is wet and spiky, and without the intimidating leather cut, he looks almost like the Tyler I remember.
Except for his eyes. They're different now: harder, more watchful. They miss nothing, including my poorly hidden phone and whatever expression is on my face.
"He's been texting," Tyler says. Not a question.
