“No, but if you’re in there and anything seems fishy, run into the men’s room. I don’t care what anyone says. And after your shower, stay here if you’re done first.”
One side of Imogen’s lips tipped up into a slight smile and she patted my arm. “I promise.”
I took a deep breath, but it didn’t help as I watched her turn around and then lost sight of her in the women’s restroom area. A new fear settled deep in my bones. I waited a few seconds to be sure I didn’t hear screaming and then left for my own facilities.
Except in my bathroom, men occupied both showers of stalls, forcing me to lean up against the wall, waiting for someone to finish. The seconds ticked by as a spray of the water echoed in the tiled room.
Finally, the water shut off becoming only a trickle and then the curtain was thrown back and a man, completely nude with all his bits hanging out, strutted from the shower area sans towel until he reached the locker on the far side of the space.
I averted my eyes as quickly as possible and then slipped into the shower area waiting to undress until I had the curtain closed. I pumped in my three coins, knowing I needed to shower quicker to not leave Imogen waiting.
The first drops of water to hit my head felt like the most amazing thing to happen in my entire life. The dirt tracked off my skin and I kicked my jeans into the corner, letting them get wet because I would not bring them with me when I left. So I didn’t care what happened to them.
Imogen and I were almost safe. We were so close to the finish line and getting back to Pelican Bay where Ridge, his men, my brother, and I’d keep her safe. We already planned to go after Bernard, but now we’d stop at nothing to get our vengeance. You didn’t kidnap a Kensington and random women from their workplaces without facing revenge.
We’d burn everything to the end of the earth to guarantee the police put Bernard behind bars. And then if the evidence supported it, I’d go after the Grandmaster next.
I toweled off in the shower space and dressed quickly, dumping all my leftovers in the trashcan on the way out. Excited to see what Imogen looked like, I smiled but quickly frowned when I found the space outside of the women’s restroom empty.
I peeked my head into the space on the female side to see into the restroom because of the curve and yelled her name. “Imogen!”
There was no response.
I walked down two aisles in the gas station section of the rest stop and scanned all the corners to see if she decided to shop more while she waited.
People turned to look at me in my frantic state as my gaze darted back and forth searching for her, but none of the people on this side of the restaurant were Imogen.
I stopped, putting my hands on my knees, leaning over to get my breath as the panic of losing her stole the oxygen from my lungs.
CHAPTER 11
IMOGEN
“Do you have straws?” I asked the waitress right before she walked away.
She turned back and smiled at me, patting my hand on the table. “Sure thing, honey. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
I nodded and then my attention quickly fell back to the array of deliciousness she left for me. I wanted to dive in and eat as quickly as possible, but that was the fastest way to make myself sick. Even though my stomach growled in hunger, I needed to eat slowly and pace myself.
I adjusted one glass and then ripped off the straw wrapper when the server brought back a handful of them and left them all for me.
The soda glass sat to my far left. My system needed the sugar. A tall glass of orange juice rested in the eleven o’clock position and I shoved the straw into it, swirling around the orange color. There was a reason nurses made you suck down an orange juice after donating blood, and I figured I needed some of that as well.
In front of me, a glass of water sparkled, and I dislodged the ice by shoving in another straw. But then, a little to the right, I had a glass of apple juice. I’d get most of the nutrients I needed from the orange juice and the soda and the water, but I figured it wouldn’t kill to hedge my bets and get a little sugar juice in me as well. And on the far right a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
Yes, sure, it’s technically the middle of summer in the South, but my bones were cold. Even though I turned the shower as warm as I could, the water barely seemed warm to me. Plus, I wasn’t the type of woman who turned down hot chocolate. It was a year-round treat. From here on out, I vowed to never turn away a beverage again.
Beyond the drinks, I had a plethora of food all lined up for my choosing. I picked up the plate with waffles and poured syrup over them, the pool running to the plate below. With them covered, I relished the smell of maple syrup.
I gazed lovingly at the warm food in front of me and used my fork and knife to cut off a big bite.
“Imogen!” The sound of my voice being hollered jerked me from my feast.
Cyrus stood at the opening of the restaurant in the shopping area, his head darting back and forth between the spaces. I raised my hand and waved to him, gathering his attention, and then waited as he stormed over to the table looking like he’d take out anyone who got in his way.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting down my knife but keeping the fork. If we had to run again, I’d take the plate of waffles with me.
I tensed at the end of the booth, preparing to slide out and head for the back door. Cyrus doubled over on the other side with his hands on his knees. When he stood up again, he had a hand over his heart like he was trying to stop it from beating out of his chest. His sandy brown hair fell over his eyes and he took another big breath before he met my gaze.
