Page 9 of Preying Heart
The gleaming look he gives me has me clenching my teeth. This can’t be the man Slade sent. Actually, I don’t believe Slade sent anyone. Why would he spend money hiring someone to take me home?
Another thought, more chilling than the last, snakes down my spine.
What if Slade sold me to pay off his gambling debts? What if he lost all our money and I’m the payoff to the loan sharks?
“Who are you?” I steady my voice. “You must have the wrong room.”
“You Remi Bruckner?” he asks.
I nod, not able to think of a reason to lie. If Slade sent him, he’d know my name.
“Good. You’re coming with me.” He keeps the gun in one hand and empties my duffel bag with the other.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
“Checking you for weapons. Don’t worry. I don’t want any of this.” He raises his eyebrows at the box of extra-large condoms before replacing the stuff. “Your purse?”
I hold on to it tighter. “I don’t have any weapons.”
“We don’t have time for games.” He gestures with the gun. “Pour it out and let me see.”
“You still haven’t told me who you are and who you’re working for.”
“How do you know I’m working for anyone?” His gaze jumps between my face and the items I spread out on the bed. “Let me check your wallet.”
“I can’t go with you without knowing why you’re here.”
He flips through my identification cards and the few measly dollars I have and then replaces the wallet into my purse. “Call it a hunch, but I’m betting you’re out of options.”
“I can call the police. You can’t just break in to my motel room with a gun and threaten me.”
He holsters his gun. “There, no more gun. Let’s take a walk and have a nice conversation. I’m one of the good guys.”
The grin he gives me puts me at ease. It’s a strong, solid grin that matches his serious eyes. Slate-gray eyes that have seen too much. He isn’t bad-looking, not by far. Not a pretty boy, not soft with manicured fingernails and gelled hair. But rough and hard, like he’d been in his share of scrapes.
“If you’re a good guy, you could lend me a couple of bucks and give me a lift to the bus station.”
“I’ll do even better.” He slips the duffel bag over his shoulder. “How about I take you where you want to go?”
“What’s in it for you?” I head for the door, but he blocks my path.
“Before we go out there, I want to go over the rules. You’ll stay at my side, slightly behind me, but not lagging too far. If I say drop, you drop to the ground. If I say run, you run and don’t look back. Now, let’s go out there easygoing, don’t attract attention—”
The door bursts open and two men wearing wraparound dark glasses and gray suits enter.
“We’ll take it from here.” The lead guy holds his hand out to me.
I scramble to remember what Slade told me. Something about showing me a glossy photo—a glamour shot. And didn’t he say one guy and not two?
“She’s mine.” The lone wolf puts himself between me and the newcomers. “I got to her first, so I suggest you two turn around and take a hike.”
“No way. We have orders and you’re in the way.” Gray Suit A grabs my hand.
It’s six of one, half dozen of the other to me. Apparently, someone is paying to have me retrieved. I wonder if it’s Gavin after all.
“Are you taking me back to Seattle?” I ask Gray Suit A.
“I’m the one with the orders,” Lone Wolf says. “Watch who you’re dealing with.”
