Page 11 of August

“Guess we’re gonna have to.” A beat passed. “You hungry?”

“Yes, but I can’t eat right now.” It was after lunchtime, and she hadn’t had anything but tea at the diner hours ago, but in her hierarchy of needs right now, sleep came before food.

“K. I’ll get us food later.” He steered into the parking lot of a hotel and paused before getting out. “Just wait here. I’ll get us checked in. I don’t want anyone to identify you.”

She sank back in her seat. “You’re acting like my face is on a most-wanted list.”

“It’s not that. If the cartel comes through flashing your picture, or your face gets scanned by surveillance cameras, they’ll be led right to us.”

“Okay.”

He tossed her the keys. “Lock the door and let the car run. I’ll be back in five.”

She watched him stalk to the hotel lobby doors. Her skin pebbled with uncertainty, and she scanned the parking lot. Could the assassin be out to get her again so soon? August had said the man was likely still alive. If he was seriously hurt, though, wouldn’t that buy them some time?

A few minutes later, August’s large, brooding form exited the building and the tension in her chest eased. He opened her door. “All set.”

She slid out of the seat and waited while he unloaded his duffel bag and her small backpack. Rather than pass hers to her, he slung it over his shoulder. Given that the extra five pounds probably would’ve sent her to her knees, she didn’t argue.

She closed the door of the SUV and turned just as August produced a baseball cap from his bag. He tugged it over her head, pulling the bill down. The action brought him dangerously close. His warm, earthy scent filled her nostrils. Her body threatened to close the gap between them so she could rest her head on his chest.

He’d hugged her at the restaurant—but would he again? He seemed so distant now. His face tight and grim, and his normally playful green eyes were watchful and weighted with distrust. But considering the circumstances, she couldn’t assume his cold demeanor was directed at her.

“Keep your head down. We don’t want any cameras getting a glimpse of your face.” With his free hand, he knotted his fingers with hers. “You’re Mrs. Hick until further notice.”

Her face flamed and her palm tingled. God, his skin was so warm. Like a hot-stone massage spreading heat through her entire body. He turned them toward the hotel and walked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Next to August, Gigi was dwarfed. She was already on the short side at barely five foot two, and August was easily a foot taller.

Which was hot as fuck.

His hand encompassed her from fingers to wrist. A little thrill bloomed inside her. This was the kind of thing that got her panties wet. August didn’t even need to flirt with her. Her body just responded to his like fire to a wind.

The automatic doors whooshed open and August walked inside. A few people meandered near the check-out desk and Gigi shrunk closer to August’s side, keeping her head down as he’d instructed. They rounded the corner of the lobby to find a bank of elevators. She punched one of the buttons.

A ding sounded and they got inside. August dropped her hand to push a button with the number eight on it. A minute later they entered their suite. Gigi swept her gaze around the small room. There were two queen beds, and across from them was a TV on a small entertainment table. In one corner was a dinette set, a microwave, and a mini fridge.

August slammed the deadbolt in place and dropped his bag. “I need to get some shut-eye. You should, too.” He kicked off his shoes, crossed the room and drew the blinds shut, then stretched out on the bed closest to the door.

Two beds.

Why did that make her heart sink? Had he made sure they’d have separate sleeping spaces? She chewed her lip as she removed her shoes and lowered her bag. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower and stripped.

Of course, getting two beds was the gentlemanly thing to do, wasn’t it? Maybe he didn’t want to give her the impression that she had to sleep with him, or that he expected sex. Instead, he’d firmly cemented a wall between them.

Why did this bother her? She stifled a growl of frustration. She was much too tired for the constant back and forth in her head.

Standing in the tub, she let the scalding spray hit her, opening her hands. A shiver shook her shoulders as steam billowed around her. She wet her hair and washed it with the hotel shampoo and conditioner then cleaned her body with the bar of soap provided.

Death clung to her skin and seeped into her psyche, making tears sting her eyes. Her heart ached. God, she should have done something to help Joe—anything other than just leave. All she’d done was worry about herself and run.

Tears mingled with droplets of water and ran down her cheeks. Sherry’s lifeless eyes flashed in her mind’s eye, and the pressure of the guilt momentarily crushed her windpipe. Covering her face with her hands, she let silent sobs rack her shoulders.

Softly, she said a prayer for everyone who’d been harmed because of her. She couldn’t let anyone else get hurt. Not innocent bystanders, not her sister, and not August.

With that thought firmly in mind, she shut off the water and towel-dried her body. After stepping into her clean clothes, she brushed her teeth and hair. She had to rest. Who knew how long it’d be before she got to stay in a hotel again.

There was fifteen hundred dollars in the go-bag, but that’d only last so long. She opened the bathroom door and glanced at August. He was spread on his back, one huge arm folded over his eyes, his fingers loose and limp. Soft breath whooshed in and out of his nose. Thank god he didn’t snore. She’d forgotten that about him—one of his best qualities.

Getting under the covers of her bed, she dropped her head to the pillow and closed her eyes. She’d let herself sleep for a couple of hours. Then she’d move on. A little worm of worry squirmed in her stomach, making fresh tears mist her eyes. She didn’t want to leave August. For once, she actually felt somewhat safe... and no longer lonely. Even if he was infuriating.

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