Page 102 of Kings Fear No One
“At least none of it got on your dress.”
The corner of her lip quirks. “Hooray.”
“I’m being serious. You’re a pretty neat vomiter, all things considered.”
The slow blink she gives, her long lashes fluttering, almost makes me laugh.
“My compliments need some work. Alright, let’s get you in the shower.”
Teysha’s obedient as I unzip her sundress. The fabric falls to a heap at her ankles. I help her step out of it and into the bathtub.
Concerned she’s so dizzy and sick that she’ll slip and fall, I wait on standby every second she’s under the showerhead. As soon as she’s reaching to twist it off, I’m ready to wrap her up in the biggest bath towel available. She shudders stepping into it, giving me a grateful nod.
“You want to wear my shirt to sleep in?” I offer. “Considering we’ve got nothing else.”
“I want some toothpaste and a toothbrush.”
“That might be out of our scope for now. But I’ve got some gum.”
“Anything to take away this vomit breath. I can taste it.”
My thumb strokes her cheek before I catch myself and drop my hand. “Yeah, alright. Take what’s left of the pack.”
It quickly becomes undeniable that I’m all over the place.
I’m caught between the urge to take care of her and the anger and frustration at what’s happened tonight. The fucked-up shit that could’ve happened had I not shown up when I did.
The relief it didn’t runs so deep I’m lightheaded. Then the next second comes and my temper reemerges.
How could she be so reckless? How could she put herself in that situation? Does she realize I was just about to lose my fucking mind over her missing?
These are the questions I’m asking myself, bitterness materializing.
Finally, she swivels away from the bathroom mirror and pads back into the rest of the motel room. I’m still perched by the window. I cock a brow at her.
“Rinse your mouth out enough times?”
“I think so… for now.”
“Feeling better?”
She releases a deep sigh. “For now. My stomach still feels queasy.”
“Hopefully it’ll pass. We’ll grab some food at the diner next door before we take off.”
“About tonight… Logan…” She pads over to the edge of the bed to sit down, her bare feet so damn slender and feminine looking against the grungy, decades-old carpet. When she sits down, her knees touch, her hands in her lap like she’s in fucking etiquette school.
It couldn’t be more obvious this girl’s too good for the Lone Star Motel. She’s too good to be caught up in… this.
She shouldn’t be in shitty motels or smoky bars. She shouldn’t even be married to me in the first place.
These are my thoughts as she pauses collecting hers.
She braves a look up at me. “I didn’t expect you to show up. But thank you for rescuing me.”
“Seems to be a theme.”
It’s the first brutal cut of the bitterness I’ve been holding in. Anger and frustration have been boiling under the surface for hours now.
