Page 60 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“Any hotels nearby?”

“Not the kind you’d want to stay in,” she shot back. “We could stay in the tractor. There are two beds.”

“And no bathroom.”

“There’s an RV park not far from here,” she said, shoving the last of the fried rice into her mouth and reaching for her phone. “Yep. They have a communal bathroom. Showers and toilets.” At my dubious look, she shrugged. “Better to walk to the bathroom in the dark than endure bed bug bites all night.”

“You make a good point.”

“And it’s cool out at night. We’ll be comfy.”

“If you say so.”

I wasn’t overly enthused, but Caitlin’s eagerness became contagious by the time we pulled into a spot at the RV park that the owner hadn’t wanted to give to us at first until he caught sight of Caitlin.

“Nugget!” he greeted her. “I haven’t seen you in years. Oh, look at you, all grown up!”

“What’s up?” I asked as Caitlin sat in the passenger seat with her change of clothes and toiletry bag on her lap.

“Can we… walk there together?” she asked. “I know I keep saying this, but my father used to go with me. These bathhouses can be a little, you know, creepy. They work on the honor system, but not all men are, you know, honorable, and you’re really vulnerable when—”

“Caitlin,” I cut her off, reaching back for my bag, “relax. I don’t need explanations. All you gotta do is ask.”

Though I should have thought to offer. We were parked pretty far from the bathhouse. There were dozens of RVs between us and the building. RVs where she could so easily just be pulled inside, and…

Nope.

Wasn’t going to let those thoughts take root, not when just a fleeting one had my gut twisting and heat spreading through my chest.

Almost exactly how I’d felt when she’d told me that shit about the pizza guy. A pizza guy who was about to get a nice little visit from one of my more brutal soldiers. A guy who would take pleasure in making it clear that Caitlin was under our protection from here on out.

I’d squared away the details that morning while she’d been hemming and hawing drink selections at the convenience store, excusing myself to the bathroom where I made a call to follow up on the text telling him to clear his calendar for the next two days.

I’d get a hang-up call when it was done.

And I was looking forward to that more than I could have anticipated.

I wasn’t Brio. I didn’t take pleasure in pain, in making people pay for fucking with us.

But just this once, I was fucking tickled about it.

The smell of campfire smoke swirled around us as we walked, carrying with it the sickly-sweet scent of marshmallows that made Caitlin get a dreamy look in her eyes.

“We should have picked up the makings for s’mores.”

“Next time we stop,” I promised her as we got to the dark wood cabin.

Stepping in through the front door, the building was lined on each side with four doors, all of them open this late at night.

“This is me,” she said, stepping in front of the last door.

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume it’s a safety thing and not because that is the closest door to the fucking vending machines.”

The way her lips twitched told on her true motives.

“Let me just check,” I said, moving into the anteroom, then the shower itself. “All set,” I said as she stepped inside, her smile soft.

“Thank you.”