Page 13 of Bratva Hunter

“No. I was out getting my food.” I raise my takeout bag. “I got to the floor after everything had happened.”

The security guys nod in agreement. I guess they aren’t going to mention that I was in another room on this floor before they got here. Huh. Maybe the cameras really aren’t working.

“Did anyone know you had the money in your bag?”

I shake my head and scrunch my forehead. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Well.” He blows out his breath and speaks to the burly security guy. “She’ll need a different room, because this one is a crime scene.”

His partner holds up a plastic bag with a handgun and another with a knife. “You guys need to come in and give a formal statement, but I don’t think the city attorney will want to press charges.” He casts his head around the room. “It would be nice if he’d left us a clue about why he was here.”

I shrug. “I’m just glad I wasn’t here.”

The first detective walks the men out of my room as his partner stands by the door. “I’m waiting for the manager to come and move you to a different room.”

“I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to stay here.” Shuddering, I think about where I’m going next. I won’t be staying here after I get myself and the stuff moved to the next room.

Five minutes later, a short, older Hispanic woman rushes into the hall. “I’m sorry. I’m Ms. Mankin. Let’s get you to a new room.” She moves her head to look into the room as the officer flicks his hand like he would for a fly. We head out the door with my stuff and trudge down the hall to the elevator. “I moved you to the first floor, closer to the front desk. This way, I’ll be able to keep a better eye on you. I can’t believe your family let you travel alone. How old are you, anyway?”

If she only knew the truth. “I’m old enough.”

Her smirk brings me to the realization that she probably does. “Who are you running from?”

I can’t help the tears slipping down my cheek. “No one.”

She stops and cocks her head. “I know what that looks like. I did it once myself. Brought me to my future.”

My eyes drop to the floor. I’m unwilling to give her more with my face full of emotion. “I’m fine. Really.” Who am I trying to convince?

We step off the elevator, and she opens the door, handing me the keycard. “Stop by the office after you get settled. I have a gift for you.” She winks. “I can help you if you let me.”

I lug my stuff into the room. The room looks just like the one I left, but the window looks out into the parking lot behind the motel. The wall art is a fabric montage of various shapes, each a slightly different shade of burgundy. Grabbing my bag, I carry it to the bathroom. Shower first, then figure out the rest.

The water cascades over my body, offering me a brief respite from my forced ordeal. A sob escapes as my hand covers my mouth. Where the hell am I supposed to go? What if the man was working with someone? Scenarios play through my brain like trailers at the theater, giving me glimpses of future torture and death. I grit my teeth as I step out of the shower and dry off.

Now out of the bathroom, I’m fully dressed to run again. The double bed beckons me like a gentle lover enticing me to rest.Taking a deep breath, I hoist my duffle on my back and my bag on my shoulder as I scan the hall through the peephole. The hall is empty, so I extend my head out to look both directions. The lobby sign glows to my left, and I pad to the reception desk looking for the lady.

“Well, hello.”

The woman stands at the edge of the counter with a large envelope in her hand. She motions for me to come to her. I glance around, waiting for the hairs on my neck to stand. She doesn’t seem like a threat. Moving to the end of the counter, she hands me the envelope.

“There’s a prepaid credit card in the envelope.”

My forehead furrows. “Why are you helping me?”

She whispers. “I told you. I ran and someone helped me. I’m paying it forward. You’ll do the same when you find your happily ever after.” A car door out in front of the motel startles me as her hand pats my arm. “That’s nothing.”

“Thank you for this.” I survey my surroundings, feeling very exposed. “I think I should go. That man could have others coming here.”

She nods. “I figured as much. When I saw you step out of your room, I placed a call. The taxi should pull up to the back door in five minutes. Remember, don’t trust anyone and always have a go bag and an exit strategy.”

I laugh with a sob. “That’s how I got here.”

Her smile deepens. “You’ll find your way.”

“Thank you.” Holding up the envelope, I move to station myself at the window by the back door. “Thank you for this, too.”

“You’re welcome. Find your happy future and your prince.”

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