Outside, the evening air is cool against my face. I walk casually to the dumpster at the far end of the parking lot, instinctively scanning the area as I go.
Parked cars, all empty. Certainly no vehicles that scream law enforcement or government agency.
I drop the evidence directly into the dumpster, making sure it lands at the bottom and not in a bag that could be easily retrieved. Then I make a slow circuit of the motel's perimeter, checking sight lines, entry points, and potential surveillance spots.
Nothing stands out, but I don't rush. Let my instincts work. After fifteen minutes, I'm reasonably confident we're clean for the moment. Not complacent but satisfied enough to head back inside.
I knock twice, pause, then unlock the door with the key card.
She's standing by the mirror, running her fingers through her newly darkened strands. The transformation is startling. Gone is the golden halo that first caught my attention, and in its place, a rich chocolate brown cascades around her pretty face, framing it.
It somehow both changes her and doesn’t. The blond was striking, but the brown is more mysterious. But I was right. She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. No color from a box can change that.
I suppose I hoped the dye would make it so no one would give her a second glance.
But that’s a spectacular failure.
I know I’m going to be stealing all the glances I can get.
She turns to face me, uncertainty flickering across her features. "Howdo I look?"
I swallow hard. The warm brown somehow makes her skin look even more like porcelain.
"Amazing," I grunt out, the word inadequate for what I'm feeling, but it’s all I can manage. “I mean, you’re much less conspicuous.”
A small smile tugs at her lips. "Good," she says simply.
Night settles in around us, the motel room growing darker as the cheap bedside lamp casts long shadows across the walls. Naomi eyes the lone queen bed, then the chair I'm sitting in.
"I can take the chair," she offers, but I’m already shaking my head.
“You need good rest more. I’ve had more of it in the past few days than you.” I don’t add that it wouldn’t matter, I’d still stay up and keep watch to make sure she’s safe.
She doesn’t fight me any further and simply slips under the covers, still fully clothed in her yoga pants and T-shirt, which is smart. She’ll be ready to run if needed. I’m sure it’s also about modesty, since I’m in the room. But I can’t help but wonder what she normally sleeps in. Nightgown? T-shirt and panties? Just panties? Nothing?
"I'll keep watch," I say, settling deeper into the chair by the window, positioning myself where I can see both the door and the parking lot through a crack in the curtains.
She doesn't argue, just nods again and reaches for the lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for that thin strip of light filtering through the gap in the curtains.
Silence reigns, punctuated only by the distant sounds of cars passing on the highway. My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness: another perk of what they did to me. My body doesn't need as much sleep as a normal person's. Fourhours and I'm well rested. Two and I can function just fine.
But then I hear it. A soft, muffled sound from the bed. At first, I think maybe she's asleep already, but then it comes again. A sniff. Then another.
"You alright?"
No answer at first, just the sound of her shifting under the covers.
"I'm sorry," she finally says, her voice small and thick with tears. "I didn't mean to—" She breaks off, and I hear her take a deep, shuddering breath. "It's just... this is the first time since I was arrested that I feel like I can..."
She doesn't finish, but she doesn't need to. I understand. The first time she's let her guard down enough to feel the weight of everything that's happened. The first time she's allowed herself not to be strong.
"It's okay," I say, rising from the chair and moving toward the bed, guided by the sound of her breathing. "You don't have to apologize."
I reach out, finding her shoulder in the darkness, and place my hand there. I mean it to comfort her, but it only seems to break the dam holding back her emotions further. Her body shakes with silent sobs.
I don't pull away. As stoic and out of touch with emotion as I can be, I understand that I’m allowing her to do this. This release that she so clearly needs.
Without thinking too much about it, I ease myself onto the bed beside her. She doesn't resist when I pull her against my chest, one arm wrapping around her shoulders.
