Page 38 of Chasing Grace
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
At a roadside motelin the middle of Utah, Chase tossed three twenties on the counter and signed a fake name on the registration form. Forced to ditch the plane in Boise because Bodak’s men had seen the registration number, they’d driven five hundred miles in the last eight hours.
Despite his back’s opinion on the matter, Chase would have preferred to keep going. Unfortunately, with a fifteen-hour drive still ahead of them, even he had to admit they needed a break. More than a break. He needed a hot shower, a couple of muscle relaxants, and a week’s worth of sleep.
He wouldn’t get any of those things.
Not tonight.
Tomorrow either.
Until he had Gray under the protection of the JTT, he’d be on high alert.
“Do you have any sharp scissors I can borrow?” Gray leaned over the chipped Formica and looked around.
Behind the counter, the hotel clerk blinked at her in slow motion. By the size of his pupils, Chase didn’t need to see the stoner’s empty bag of weed to know he was lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Scissors?” the clerk repeated.
“Yeah, right there.” She twirled her finger. “Can you hand me those?”
He handed her the scissors, pointy end first. “Careful, man. They’re really sharp.”
“Thanks. I’ll try not to run them into anyone.” She looked at Chase as if the idea held merit.
Yep, still angry.
She’d asked for her phone back. He’d refused, citing safety and security reasons. True for the most part. Also true, he had it in pieces, and he doubted she had the tech skills required for reassembly. Probably best to keep that bit of nitty-gritty to himself while she possessed a sharp implement.
The stoner grinned and bobbed his head like a pecking chicken. “Good thinking.”
Jamming the scissors into the back pocket of her khakis, she rolled her eyes and made for the grime-covered glass door. Chase snatched the room key from the counter and trailed her outside.
Faded black numbers below an equally faded arrow indicated their direction under the flickering light of a neon vacancy sign. He took Gray’s hand and led the way, tightening his grip when she tried to let go.
When they reached their room, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let her enter first. One foot across the threshold, she hesitated on the threadbare rug and surveyed the night’s digs with a scrunched nose.
The air did have a distinct eau-de-dirty-deeds-done-dirt-cheap, but they needed to stay off the radar, and this place preferred its customers to pay in cash, probably by the hour. Hand against the small of her back, he nudged her inside, dropped his pack, and locked the door behind him.
After a last look outside, he shut the curtains and claimed the double bed closest to the exit and bathroom doors by throwing his body on it. He’d be dozing on top of the covers, fully dressed, his gun within reach for a variety of reasons tonight.
Hands behind his head, he closed his eyes and listened to Gray move about the room. Tension kept his stomach coiled and his muscles flexed. Fuck, he was pissed. At Bodak, at Kincaid, but mostly at himself.
A tracker in a ball cap? Who does that? If Kincaid hadn’t shown up at the airfield in Everett, guns ablazing, Chase would have brought Bodak and his men right to the JTT’s front door.
And if it wasn’t a tracker, they were fucked.
The only people who knew he had a plane in Everett were the members of the JTT. Jesus, he didn’t want to believe they might be harboring a traitor among them. It hardly seemed possible, but just to be sure, he’d reached out to Tak. If there was a leak, he’d find it and deal with it before Chase arrived with Gray.
Either way, if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass soon, he’d get them all killed.
Yeah, Gray affected him, and not in a good way. He’d lost his focus today and put her at risk. He’d put his team and their mission at risk too. Unacceptable. They’d worked too hard to uncover the little they had on Wright, and they were running out of time.
Distracted by his attraction to Gray, he’d made some significant mistakes in the last twenty-four hours. Kissing her when he should have been watching their backs. What the fuck? He had no right to kiss her. Shouldn’t be kissing her at all.
A shadow passed over his closed lids, and the click of a switch preceded the electric hum of a tired light fixture. He expected the bathroom door to close and the shower to turn on. When neither of those things transpired, he remembered the scissors.
Realization had him jumping from the bed. “Don’t you dare!” His outburst froze Gray like a statue, scissors split wide and about to cut off the hank of hair in her fist. He grabbed her wrist and pried the offending weapon from her grasp, catching her off guard.
