Page 120 of Bronco

She smiles, showing a toothy grin that almost makes me shudder. “One twelve, honey.”

I give her a pointed look. “Gonna need me a key.”

She turns without hesitation, grabbing a spare off the hook. “Don’t forget to lock up when you’re done, and don’t take anything big.”

It occurs to me that she doesn’t give a shit who we are, or what we’re about to possibly do to this woman, and that makes me fuckin’ mad.

Ryder taps me on the shoulder as he leaves. “Let’s go.”

“If she’s not home, there’s a diner next door, open until late,” she adds.

I nod, unable to thank her because she’s a fuckin’ scumbag, and I follow Ryder out. Leaving Pipes with our rides, we make our way up a flight of stairs toward her room.

I don’t even bother knocking; it’s not like we’re pretending to be room service, or housekeeping. Expecting a kerfuffle, I switch the lock with ease and push the door open. It’s quiet inside. There’s a bedside lamp on, only highlighting what must be the worst motel room I’ve ever seen. The carpet in here is worse than the one downstairs, and it has that same musty, damp smell that has gotta have mold hidden in the walls.

There’s nobody in the room, but there’s a large bag on the bed, and a couple of boxes on the floor.

I slide the bathroom door open with my foot, but there’s nobody in there.

“Jesus,” Ryder says behind me, pulling his bandana up over his mouth and nose.

“Gonna need disinfectin’ when we get back to the Holiday Inn.” Those are not words I expected to ever come out of my mouth. “Gotta check the diner,” I say, rifling through the contents of the bag. There’s mainly women’s clothing, a book, a notebook, and a smaller bag containing bathroom items.

Aside from that, the motel room isn’t somewhere Erica is going to call home for very much longer.

We head out of the room, back down the stairs and make our way to the front of the building. It’s late, and when we head toward the neon flashing sign, there’s only a couple of cars in the lot out front. The diner, as expected, isn’t doing a massive trade at this time of night. There’s two people sitting at the counter, talking to the waitress, then a couple sitting at one of the booths. Two other tables are occupied.

“Well, hello there, gentleman,” the waitress coos, leaving her conversation to look us up and down. “What can I get y’all?”

I give her my sweetest smile. “Just coffee, darlin’.”

“Comin’ right up.”

I glance around, spotting a woman with blonde, shoulder length hair with her back to us in one of the booths. It’s gotta be her. I signal to the others I’m going ahead, Ryder next to me. I walk towards her.

Before I even arrive at the table, she glances over her shoulder and our eyes meet.

Well I’ll be damned.

Fucking Erica.

I’m next to her before she can even react, blocking her exit as Ryder slides into the seat opposite her. I follow suit as Rock stands a few feet away, and Pipes guards the door. If the waitress is suspicious of us accosting this woman, she doesn’t do shit. I don’t rate the sense of security around here, or how everyone just looks the other way.

“No,” Erica whispers. “I have more time.Please.You said I had more time.”

“Erica,” I say. “This isn’t what you thi?—”

She tugs on the lapels of my cut. “I’m begging you. I’ll get the money. I have a daughter, I have to get back to her.” Tears are already streaming down her throat. “I had a life, a pretty good life…” She starts to sob and Ryder looks over my shoulder as the couple a few tables away glance over.

“We’re not here to kill you,” I say.

“No? Then why did they send four of you?”

“Who’s they?”

“The men I owe money to.”

“The Olgettis?”

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