Her backpack sat by the door, half unzipped.She packed quickly, shoving her things inside with practiced precision.The shower hissed as she turned it on, the pipes groaning like the building itself objected to being awake.
Steam filled the tiny bathroom.She stripped and stepped under the water, wincing as the lukewarm spray hit her skin.It wasn’t comfort she sought, it was cleansing.A few minutes to scrub off the grime and fear that clung to her.
Mara braced her palms against the tile, water running down her back, and closed her eyes.She couldn’t afford to fall apart.Not yet.Not when she was still so close to the edge of being found.
When she stepped out, she felt marginally more human.She toweled off, pulled on jeans and a dark hoodie, then twisted her wet hair into a knot.She studied herself in the cracked mirror.Yup, she still looked horrible.Nothing new there.
Her stomach growled loud enough to echo in the small room.She frowned.If she was going to keep moving, she needed real food.
“Food, then gone,” she muttered to herself.“Fifteen minutes, tops.”
Her reflection didn’t argue.Mara slung her bag over her shoulder, double-checked that her knife was tucked into the pocket of her jacket, and slipped out the door.
Chapter Three
The morning air wascrisp, heavy with the scent of rain.Puddles glimmered on the pavement, and the sound of cars on the highway filled the silence.The diner across the street was already open, neon “Open” sign buzzing weakly.
Inside, it smelled like coffee and fried grease.A few truckers sat at the counter, a waitress with tired eyes pouring refills without being asked.Mara picked a booth in the corner, her back to the wall, view of the door clear.Old habits.
She ordered the cheapest thing on the menu.Black coffee and eggs, and kept her head down.
Every time the bell over the door jingled, her heart jumped.She’d scan the new arrivals, measuring their clothes, their posture, their hands.Always the hands.The men her father sent had a certain way they carried themselves, like violence was second nature.
She ate fast, barely tasting anything.Her stomach wasn’t ready for real food, but she forced it down anyway.Better to have something in her than go light-headed later.
By the time she drained the last of her coffee, she’d managed to slow her pulse.The waitress gave her a distracted smile when she paid, and Mara mumbled a quiet thanks before stepping outside.
The sunlight was brighter now, the world too awake for her liking.She tugged her hood up and started back toward the motel.She didn’t make it to the door.
Two bikes were parked near the front office.They were sleek black and red machines with Blood Vultures patches on the seats.Her blood turned to ice.
For a split second, she thought maybe she was imagining it.Maybe they belonged to some other crew.But then she saw the two men leaning against the counter just inside the office, talking to the clerk.
She froze mid-step, heart slamming into her throat.Even from here, she recognized them.Jax and Denny.Two of her father’s enforcers.
They weren’t the brightest, but they were loyal and mean enough to make up for it.She’d seen them drag people out of bars for less than what she’d done.
