Page 27 of Impulsive Saint
“You got this, Echols.” she whispered to her reflection, trying to bolster her courage.
She found a pen and a pad of sticky notes on the table next to the bed and scribbled out a quick message for Tyler in case he woke up before she returned. She gave him one last look and then she opened the door as quietly as she could and slipped out into the cool, dark night. She held her breath for a moment, waiting to see if Tyler would come awake and yell for her once the door clicked shut loudly behind her, but when everything remained quiet, she grinned and headed across the road.
She had said she wanted adventure. She’d said she wanted to cross items off her bucket-list. Well, this bar seemed like as good a place as any to get drunk for the first time. She just had to find someone willing to buy her a drink and some food and really, how hard could that be?
She grinned as she stepped inside, the sound of loud honky-tonk music blasting at her eardrums. There was a decent sized crowd, mostly men, and they all turned to look at her as she walked to the bar. Yes, she decided as the bartender raised an eyebrow and gave her a leering smile that showed a missing incisor. Yes, this would do just fine.
8
Tyler groaned as his eyelids slid open and for a moment he was hit with complete disorientation. It took him precious moments to remember where he was and why. A shithole motel in Arkansas because he’d stupidly agreed to escort Tennessee’s most famous runaway bride ever on a road trip cross country. He scrubbed his hands over his face, staring at the stained popcorn texture ceiling.
He owed her an apology. He’d been an asshole when they got to the motel. He’d been tired and frustrated and he’d taken it out on her. He’d told himself he wouldn’t make this trip easy for her but that didn’t mean he had to be a dick. He’d just spent the whole day on that motorcycle with her wrapped around him and he’d needed some space to breathe, to think, to rest and get his head back on straight because every time they’d stopped to get gas and food or use the bathroom he’d become more and more aware that what they were doing was weirdly intimate for two complete strangers.
Spending days and nights together, never having a break from one another, sharing meals and small talk and wrapping their bodies around a motorcycle and each other was intimate in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else. And he didn’t want to think of intimacy and Ashtyn Echols in the same sentence.
She was a job. That was all. A job that he felt more and more guilty for not telling her about, but still just a job.
He forced himself upright and squinted around the room. A frown instantly marred his well-rested mood. The small hotel room was empty. The lights were still on. The A/C unit was whining just like it had been when he passed out but there was no sign of Ashtyn anywhere.
“Ashtyn?” He pushed himself up off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, the last place she’d been before he fell asleep.
He knew before he got there that she wasn’t inside. The door was open and the room was dark. He flipped the light on anyway and scowled at the delicate bra and panties dangling from the towel rack. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if those items being there meant wherever she was she was going commando but he pushed that thought away and instead returned to the room.
Her precious backpack full of all the items she’d bought during her Target adventure was on the dresser next to the old television. She’d left it behind so she must not have gone far. He’d barely been able to get her to part with the bag of her precious necessities when they stopped to use a gas station bathroom but she hadn’t taken it with her wherever she went. That soothed some of his worry because he knew it meant she hadn’t just up and left him, not without her stuff.
He took in the stack of dirty clothes on the floor and then scanned the room again for any sign of where she’d gone and when. A quick glance at the old school digital clock on the nightstand told him he’d slept for at least three hours. Shit. She could’ve gone anywhere in that amount of time and he silently cursed himself for letting her out of his sight for even a minute.
Tyler pulled his cell phone out of his pocket but remembered belatedly that she wouldn’t have been able to call him. She didn’t have a phone and even if she did, she didn’t know his number. He’d never given it to her and even gone so far as to refuse letting her use it earlier because he’d worried that she would stumble onto the text messages from his brother checking in on them about the trip.
He remembered her using the large landline phone so he walked over to it, thinking maybe he could use that old *69 trick and figure out who she had called. Maybe they’d convinced her to come home? But surely, she would have woken him up if that was the case.
His concern for her safety was beginning to turn into a knot of fear in his gut when he finally saw the scribbled note on the pad of paper next to the bed. He snatched it up and read it quickly. He glanced from it to the window and back again before he rounded the bed and shifted the curtain enough that he could see exactly what he was dealing with.
Ashtyn’s note, written in bouncy feminine curls, told him only that she was going across the road and he should join her if he woke up before she got back. She could have written it three hours ago or fifteen minutes ago. He had no way of knowing. All he knew was that she wasn’t back and from the looks of the place across the street, she could just as soon be bleeding out in the back lot for mouthing off to the wrong person as she could be huddled in a corner booth eating greasy bar food that she had no way to pay for.
“Son of a…” Tyler bit off a curse as he searched for his shoes and began shoving his feet into them.
What the hell was she thinking going to a place like that alone? It looked rough, rural and with the grizzled men he could see smoking in the parking lot, more than a little bit dangerous. A girl like Ashtyn who had grown up with money and a country club membership wouldn’t have any idea how to handle the kind of men that frequented a bar like that one.
He was pulling his shirt over his head when his phone buzzed in his pocket and he groaned. Somehow, he knew without looking, that it would be Vaughn. He swore his oldest brother had some sort of sixth sense. He always knew when Tyler had fucked something up and was the first to call him on it. Reluctantly he picked up the phone, already preparing himself to be berated, even though there was no way Vaughn could know that he’d lost the precious princess. Right?
The name on the screen surprised him and he smiled as he answered, “Tatum?”
“Why do you sound shocked that I’m calling you?” His sister demanded instantly.
Tyler snorted and leaned over to tie his laces, the phone trapped between his cheek and his shoulder, “I was expecting Vaughn.”
“Vaughn’s busy with the all-important Senator scandal.” Tatum made the sentence sound like the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “That’s why I’m calling you.”
“Uh, hate to break it to you, but I’m dealing with my own part of that situation so I can’t help you with whatever it is you need.”
“Seriously?” Tatum whined. “Why do you all assume I need something when I call?”
“Because you always do.”
Tatum harrumphed, “Fine, I do need some help but Hunter’s on his honeymoon, Vaughn’s got his nose so far up the Senator’s ass I’m sure he can smell what he had for dinner, now you’re too busy to deal with me too?”
Tyler winced at the accusation in her voice. He knew, probably better than anyone, that Tatum could be a spoiled, demanding brat. He was the closest to her in age so he’d been around for more of her drama than anyone. But he also knew that beneath her sorority girl swagger, there was just a girl that felt as unsure about her place in their weird family dynamic as any of them did.
