This escape attempt has been foiled in the most spectacular of ways.
I squeeze my thighs together and try to think of anything other than my aching bladder, but we’re long past the point of no return. One pothole and I’m going to embarrass myself.
I wonder if I pee myself if Ryker will get frustrated and let me run. There’s merit to the thought, but something tells me that’s not going to be enough to deter him.
The crazy motherfucker spent seven hours in the trunk of my car. If that’s not a sign of his dedication, I don’t know what is.
I’m so distracted by my bladder that I don’t realize we’ve pulled off the main highway until we’re parking outside a motel.
Glancing up at the building, I don’t get the immediate impression that it’s run-down, which is enough to satisfy my need to stay somewhere clean.
“What are we doing here?”
“Sleeping,” he replies, shoving the door open and striding into the office.
I watch each confident step as he takes it, allowing my eyes to roam over his back, taking in the tattoos that peek out the top of his shirt. His wide shoulders stretch his shirt to its limit, and he doesn’t seem fazed by the cold wind that whips around him.
Where the hell did Camilla even find this guy?
He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before, and I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by crime families.
He only spends a minute in the office before he returns with a key hanging from his fingers.
The door swings open and he ducks his head in. “You coming, or did you want to pee all over that seat?”
“How did you—” I cut myself off with a shake of the head. It doesn’t matter that he knows I need to pee, all that matters is that I’m about to get some sweet, sweet relief.
I tug my bag over my shoulder as I slide out of the car and follow him toward a room close to the office.
If I’d been the one booking the room, I would have asked for the one furthest from the road, but I guess it makes sense to be able to make a quick exit if need be.
The door is barely open when I push past him, dump my bag on the bed, and practically sprint for the bathroom, stopping only long enough to slam the door shut and lock it before finally dropping onto the toilet.
Once I’m finished, I wash my hands and take a minute to look in the mirror above the sink. I look like a wreck, but what would you expect after spending all day in a car only to end up a few hours from where we started?
I drop my head with a sigh.
Fuck.
What the hell am I going to do now?
Ryker thinks he can protect me, and maybe he can, but that doesn’t make the risk worth it.
Next time I flee, I’m going straight to the airport and getting the first flight to Europe. At least with an ocean between us, I’ll have a bit of time to work out my next steps.
It was stupid of me to think I could drive across the border and find safety. The only way I’ll ever escape is by disappearing.
When I can’t linger in the bathroom for another minute, I step out and take in the room I didn’t bother looking at on the way in.
One bed.
Of course there’s one bed, because why would there be two? Why would the universe give me two beds when it has the chance to fuck with me like this?
A smug smile tugs at the corners of Ryker’s lips, but he doesn’t say anything from his place in the center of the double bed.
He barely even fits on the damn thing sitting up, I can’t imagine his feet won’t hang off the edge when he’s horizontal.
“Something wrong, Chloe?”
