Page 65 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

I look across the shadowed room and frown at the dated prints on the walls, the small television on the desk, and the mini fridge beneath that. “Where are we?”

“Hotel on the side of the freeway. The…” He leans back as though there’s a sign on the wall. “The Cherry Drop Inn. You’ve been asleep for a few hours.” He runs a frustrated hand over his forehead and knocks his beanie free. “You dropped in the fuckin’ street, Soph, so I had to get you somewhere fast. Caught a cab to the garage where we keep the car, told the dude you were sleeping off a wicked hangover. He didn’t believe me, but he still drove us where we needed to go and took my money. I drove us here in the Enclave and let you sleep in the back while I checked in. Babe?” His hand comes under my jaw and pulls my face up. “Look into my eyes. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay.” I blink, trying to clear the stars.

“You’re not okay,” he laughs humorlessly. “You’re all spaced out. I’ve never known you not to be sharp.”

“You hardly know me at all.” I frown. “How could you possibly know how I act after I’ve been shot and firebombed?”

His grin helps clear the dots from my vision, like his smile helps me zoom in and focus “You’ve still got that attitude problem, I see.” Leaning forward, he drops a gentle kiss on my lips, then a second. Then a third on my jaw. “You cost me about ten years of my life today, Soph. Fuck me.” He blows out a gusty breath. “When I heard that first explosion, I thought I was back at Infernos again, and I was going to lose you. I thought I was going in to recover your body, but then you come tearing out of the building with these assholes right behind you. You’re always so cool, so unaffected, then you drop in the street and nearly finish me off.”

“It’s ‘cause I was hungry.”

His thick brows pull close. “Huh?”

“I didn’t drop because I was scared or anything sissy like that. I dropped because I didn’t eat yet. You went out to Ginnie’s to bring me food, remember?”

Chuckling, he presses a much rougher kiss to my forehead and bites off a string of curses. “You’re here. You’re alive. And I’m gonna get us some food.”

“I’m starving.”

“Good.” Laughing quietly, he turns away, snags the phone from the bedside table and brings up a search engine. “What do you feel like? I’m not sure there’s a lot around here. There’s a bar up the street, or a truck stop across the freeway.”

“Oh fuck! Trenton’s phone! Where’s Trenton’s phone?” I dive out of bed and past an alert Jay. I cry out when my aching feet touch the floor, then drop to my hands and knees, burning myself on the dirty carpet as I propel toward my laptop bag. Dragging the contents out and littering the floor, my head swims from moving too fast, but my stubbornness keeps me sharp as I yank the cell from the front pocket and clutch it to my chest as though it were a romantic gesture rather than a gangster’s phone I’d like to hack.

“Sophia!” Jay rushes forward and lifts me so fast, my body screams in protest. “Jesus Christ, Sophia. You didn’t have to be so fucking dramatic and shave another decade off my life. Fuck.” He carries me back to the bed and settles me exactly where I was. “Stay!” His black eyes sparkle with rage. “Don’t do that shit anymore.”

“I needed Trenton’s phone.” I continue to clutch it to my chest. “If I lost it, we’d be screwed for our next step.”

“So now you’ve got it,” he snaps. “Don’t squeal or run or freak out anymore. I think I’m having a fuckin’ moment after my sort-of girlfriend was involved in a shooting and a firebomb incident. Give me five minutes with no sudden movements.”

I pull him down to sit beside me, then I slam my hand to the back of his head and shove it between his legs. “Breathe. Relax. Oh wait, can you get my laptop?”

He growls. The big, bad, muscly and tattooed thug growls like he’s about to rip my arm off. Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes in challenge, but when I don’t back down, he bites off a curse and walks back to the mess I made on the floor. He lobs my laptop across the room and gets revenge when I squeak and imagine my five-thousand-dollar machine slamming to the floor and smashing to pieces. It safely plops to my bed with a muffled landing, then a protein bar follows and smacks down right on top. “Eat, Sophia. Do something other than tempt me to smother you in your sleep. I’m not dealing very well right now.”

“You go get food.” I pick the bar up and tear the wrapper open. “I’m awake now; I’m bandaged up and took my pills. You get food and bring it back. I’ll sit here and tear Trenton’s cell apart. Where’d you say we were again?”

“Cherry Drop Inn.” He stands tall and takes half his bar in one bite. “Room eighteen. I’m gonna run to the truck stop across the road. I’ll be ten minutes. If you blow up, get shot, or pass out while I’m gone, I’m going to be hella pissed.”

Snickering, I accept his kiss when he walks forward and yanks my hair back. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Anyone follow us here?”

He rolls his eyes and turns away to collect his wallet and keys from the rickety table. “Of course not. This isn’t amateur hour.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I call out as he steps through the door. “I thought everything was amateur hour ever since you told your ballerina jokes.”

“Hey, Soph. Why do ballerinas dance on their toes?”

I don’t answer. I refuse to answer!

“So they don’t wake up their audience!”

Pursing my lips, I give him no reaction as he folds at the waist and laughs at his own lame shit, but the second the door closes, I shake my head and laugh.

He’s an idiot.

But he’s kinda my idiot.

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