“Ugh,” I mutter.
“Jesus fucking…” Shadow shakes his head. “Forget about those two. Grab your bag. You’ll have a room all to yourself. Ain’t nobody going to bother you.”
I reach into the back seat and grab a small overnight bag that I’d hastily thrown together in a gas station parking lot a couple hours ago, right when the weather started to turn. “What about my car?” I ask.
Almost everything I own is in this car. Everything I could get away with. Everything I needed to start my new life. The last thing I need is to lose it all in one night.
Shadow heaves a deep sigh. “I’ll park it out back. No room in the garage, but we have a reinforced fence. Should be okay.”
I set my bag in my lap and clutch the towels around me. “So, am I coming with you?”
He looks at me. “That’s your call. I ain’t forcing you to stay.”
I burst into nervous laughter. “Right. No. I mean, am I going with you to park the car?”
Somehow, over the last few minutes, the idea of leaving to find someplace else to stay seems even more reckless than taking shelter with this man for the night.
I can always leave if it clears up or if things get weird. He said himself I’m not being forced to stay here.
“Yeah. Might as well. I doubt we’ll have to step over puddles of puke going in the back.”
He rolls down the windows. “Get your asses inside!” he yells.
“Shadow? That you?” one of the women yells back. “Why don’t you carry me inside, big man?”
Shadow shakes his head and grumbles under his breath.
I can’t imagine riding out a storm with a bunch of people partying so hard they make themselves sick. I guess I don’t know what I expected, so I try to reserve my judgment while he drives my car around the back of the building. It appears far larger than it looked from the street.
“What is this place?” I ask, squinting through the dark. “You live here?”
He pulls a small clicker from the inside pocket of his vest, and a gate opens on a very strong-looking metal fence. He steers the car inside and parks between two enormous pickup trucks.
“I live here,” he confirms, but he doesn’t offer more than that.
I take that as a bad sign, but my sister is blowing up my phone, the ringtone I use for her piercing through the noise of the storm. “I’m okay,” I tell her, picking up after the first ring. “I’m just arriving. I’m going inside, so I’ll call you when I’m settled.”
She starts to say something, but Shadow has turned off the car and hands me the keys, so I end the call. He holds out his hand for my bag, and I trade him. Clutching the faded hotel towels around my shoulders like a shawl, I wait while he runs around the passenger side to open the door and let me out. He reaches out a hand to help me from the seat. My fingers brush his, and I can’t believe how hot his skin is. He’s warm like he’s on fire from the inside, and God, for a moment, I wish I could curl up beside him and steal some of his heat.
It’s a dangerous thought, not to mention inappropriate, but my knight in shining leather hasn’t given me any reason to be afraid of him. At least not yet.
I shove thoughts of his heat and his light green eyes to the back of my mind and focus on stepping through the puddles of water that have started to form in the parking lot. I do not need to slip and fall on my butt. He’s probably already had more than an eyeful already, between my wet dress and the wind. I don’t need him picking me up off my behind too.
We make it through the parking lot, practically holding hands the entire way. When he releases my hand, my fingers immediately go cold again. I stare at his profile as he unlocks a door, flips a latch, and shoves the door open with the toe of his boot.
“Come on,” he says, setting a hand lightly against my back. “It’s gonna be a full house.” His breath warms my ear. “Stay close to me.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
As soon as he shuts and locks the door behind us, I turn to face a scene I don’t think can even be real. I mean, I’ve seen things like this on TV, but in real life? I’m suddenly not sure I wouldn’t feel safer braving the storm than this.
The room we’ve walked into is a huge open space, softly lit with dim yellow overhead lights and neon signs attached to the walls. There are two pool tables, an air hockey table, and probably a dozen or more couches, recliners, and chairs scattered everywhere. On every available surface, I see bottles, cans, and plastic cups that I assume contain the sticky-sweet substance that I can feel on the floors under my feet.
The air is thick with skunky smoke, and I wrinkle my nose and try not to cough. Is this a drug den? I shudder hard, but I feel Shadow’s hand pressing lightly against my back.
“This way,” he says.
The minute we fully enter the space, through the smoke and blasting loud music, I can make out all the people. There are so many bodies. And I’m not talking dancing bodies. I went to a couple house parties in college, but never a frat party because that wasn’t my scene. I was always the type who’d rather spend the night curled up with a good book than a frat boy trying to get his hand down my pants or up my top.
