Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
I can always shoot someone, right? Or yourself, my brain reminds me, but that’s not an option. Then again, neither is whoring.
“Wait here,” Daniel says in a low whisper. “I’m going in. Shoot anyone that comes out of this doorway. Even me. If it’s clear, I’ll call you ‘fighter baby.’ Got it?”
“Got it,” I choke out in a low voice, even as he heads through the door, gun at the ready.
There’s an incredibly long moment of silence, and I scarcely breathe, waiting to hear something, anything.
A moment later, Daniel says, “All clear, fighter baby. Come on in.”
I release the breath I’ve been holding and enter the room. Immediately, it’s clear to me that the room’s been ransacked. My clothes have been torn apart and strewn across the room, and the bed has been overturned. Thank God Daniel took the bag of guns with us. He refused to let them out of his sight, and I see now he was right to do so.
I swallow hard at the sight. “Good thing we went out for breakfast, huh?” I try not to think what would have happened if they’d have found me in bed with Daniel, rubbing up against him. Both of us could have been killed.
“Looks like your friend hasn’t given up on you yet.” Daniel’s mouth is set into the hard, angry line I’m becoming all too familiar with. “Goddamn it. Least we have most of our ammo still on us, but it looks like you’re going to be wearing that outfit for a while.”
“At least there’s that,” I agree faintly.
“You okay?” he asks me.
My lower lip feels like it’s on the verge of trembling, but I nod. “I’m fine.” I’m not, but there’s no point in going into how fucked-up my head is at the moment, because it doesn’t matter.
“Let’s go,” Daniel says. “Pack your things again, and we’ll head to a new hotel. Change of plans. We’re heading for the best hotel money can buy. Figure since they’re going to know where we are anyhow, we might as well hide in plain sight. They’re going to have to work a lot harder to try to steal your ass on Main Street.”
“Okay,” I say in a small voice again.
“You sure you don’t know why Freeze is so hot for you? You great with pony play or something?”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Never mind. I’m being a jackass. This shit’s not making sense and I’m getting riled trying to figure it out.” He rakes a hand through his short hair and blows out a heavy breath. “Fuck. Let’s go.”
I pack my things quickly, tuck my gun back into my belt, and try to remain calm while Daniel texts something into his burner. When I’m ready, I nod at him and we leave the room behind. As soon as we get back out into the streets, Daniel hails a cab and puts an arm around my shoulders, like we’re a couple. I don’t shrug him off even though I’m feeling so weird right now. I don’t want to be touched, not at the moment, but I don’t tell Daniel to take his hands off of me.
We get in the cab. Daniel tells the driver an address in Portuguese and then puts his arm over my shoulders again. “Can’t believe we’re finally Mr. and Mrs. Parker,” he says in that drawling fake Texas accent I’m starting to learn is his “let’s pretend” voice.
“That’s right, baby,” I say quickly and press a kiss to his cheek, even though my voice sounds a bit more wobbly than I’d like.
I tune out as Daniel keeps up a steady stream of chatter with both me and the cabdriver. He’s playing the role of a young newlywed tourist with great aplomb, occasionally giving me affectionate little touches that keep reminding me of the surprise kiss I reacted so badly to a short time ago. I do my part to keep up the pretense, but I’m sure it’s clear to both Daniel and the cabbie that I’m miles away mentally.
We get to the hotel, check in, and head up to our room—all the while Daniel is yakking in my ear about sightseeing tours and the nude beaches of Brazil, hand at my waist. It rests close to my gun, a reminder that despite the smiling people and pristine appearance of this hotel, we’re no safer than we were before.
The room is gorgeous, though. It has a king-sized bed with fresh linens, a stack of fluffy towels waiting on the corner of the bed, and a lovely view of the city from the balcony. The bathroom’s bigger than my old apartment.
As we enter the room, Daniel locks and chains the door behind us, moves a dresser in front of the door, and then pulls the curtains closed. Then, he turns to look at me.