Page 17 of Ride Hard
Sloane
Ishould’ve madea break for it, but I didn’t know where the hell we were. Outside, there was nothing but trees androad.
And it wasn’t until Chaser had turned on the shower I realized he’d stolen my money and my purse along with my fake ID. He was a real piece of work, thatone.
I had zero illusions that this was one of those fun cross-country road trips. We weren’t going to Dollywood, or hunting for country music stars in Nashville, or stopping by the Grand Canyon and throwing a few coins in the slots at a Las Vegas casino. I was Chaser’s cargo, for lack of a betterword.
Despite the eventful night and long-ass day, I wasn’t tired. I would usually be awake right about now, pulling beers behind the bar atTeasers.
Yvette must be worried about me. When I don’t show tomorrow, she’ll beg the boss to check the security footage. Then they’ll see the moment where Pube Face attacked me outback.
Rolling my eyes at the darkened roof, I studied the rise and fall of the popcorn ceiling. I knew the last thing the club owners would want was police sniffing around. Not when there was a borderline illegal brothel operating in the privaterooms.
No one was coming for me. At least, no onegood.
Rolling over, I squinted, trying to make out Chaser’s features in the dark. He’d made a makeshift bed on the floor out of the spare blankets and pillows in the closet. I’d complained until I was blue in the face, but he’d still turned out the lights not long after the sun had dipped below thehorizon.
His chest rose and fell, the gun lying on top of his sternum, his right hand curled around the grip. At this angle, he didn’t look like the hard-ass biker bounty hunter I assumed he was. He looked like…a boy. Nothing but a boy with a toygun.
Sighing, I rolled over onto my other side. I was stuck for the moment—until I could swipe my money and ID back off him—but it wasn’t that bad. Was it? He hadn’t tried to lay his hands on me, which was a first. And he’d saved me from PubeFace.
Maybe I could convince him to take me some place else, far away from mydad.
“Sloane.”
My eyes cracked open, and I moaned. Chaser was standing over me, backlit by the window, which was full of dawn-like rays of sunshine. It felt like I’d only just fallenasleep.
“Get up,” he barked, pulling the comforter offme.
“Hey!” I scrambled, trying to yank it backup.
Luckily, I’d slept in a T-shirt long enough to cover all of my assets, so there was nothing much for him to see. Didn’t stop his gaze flickering to my bare legs,though.
“You’ve got ten minutes. By the time I get back from the office, I want youready.”
Before I could open my mouth, he strode from the room and slammed the door closed behind him. A few doors down, a dog barked. So that explained the short white and ginger hair stuck to the comforter. Doggymotel.
Snatching the clothes I’d laid out last night, I darted into the shower and had a quick scrub. If I wasn’t out and dressed in ten, there was no doubt in my mind Chaser would be in here dragging me out by the hair…even if I was naked and covered in soap suds. What a spectacle that would be. I wondered if it would get himhard.
I dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, a beat-up black T-shirt—that was grayer these days—with a picture of an American eagle printed on the front, my faded denim jacket with the ripped pockets, and boots. Glancing in the mirror, I fluffed up my hair and pouted. Glancing at the little pouch of makeup, I rolled my eyes. What was thepoint?
When I emerged from the bathroom, Chaser wasn’t back yet, so I grabbed my bag and went outside. Standing by the car, I surveyed the lot and the roadbeyond.
There was nothing but pavement and patchy forest. There had to be a town nearby for there to be a motel of this size, but it wasn’t much of anything. If I ran now, I might be able to hitch a ride on a tractor and get dropped off at the local doomsday cult compound. Considering where Chaser was taking me, I wasn’t sure which one wasworse.
The blinkers flashed orange, and the locks clicked as they disengaged. Glancing around, I saw Chaser through the window of the office, chatting up some old lady. Wrenching open the door, I slipped into the front passengerseat.
Opening the glove compartment, I rifled through the contents, but I found nothing useful. Not even a spare pair of sunglasses. Like he would leave me out here alone if he didn’t already know there wasn’t a shred of hope to be found tucked under the frontseat.
The driver’s side door opened, and Chaser gotin.
“Looking for something?” heasked.
“I was looking for something to bash in your skull with,” Iretorted.
“Good luck with that.” He put the key into the ignition and turned the engine on. Throwing his arm back, he curled his hand around the corner of my seat and looked over his shoulder as he backed out of the parkingspace.
He turned onto the road, which looked a little like a highway, and gunnedit.
