Fighting for Forever (Fighting, #6)

Light shines through the one corner of the window where the blackout curtains pulled loose from their binding. I roll to my other side, having to go back and forth all night to keep blood circulating through my arm.

After talking to Mason last night, I finally allowed myself to cry. Telling him the one thing I promised him I’d never say—using the word good-bye—was my only hope at alerting him that something’s wrong. I hope to God he picked up on that.

I search the space of the small motel room and don’t see Hatch. He came and went a few times last night, but only for minutes here and there. Motorcycle engines roared throughout the night, and it would seem some of the other rooms are occupied by members of his MC. I wonder if they know I’m here. Would they do anything to help me if they did?

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the path we took out of town. If only I’d paid closer attention. It seemed we headed south, or southwest? Maybe thirty minutes. I growl in frustration.

Hatch was smart enough to get rid of all the logos or clues in the room that might give away our location. Even the telephone has been removed. Fuck!

The sound of a motorcycle engine rumbles and gets louder before it goes quiet. I roll to my side to face the door, nervous about who might walk in and praying it’s Hatch rather than someone from his crew. As sick as it sounds, I’m safer with Hatch than anyone else. Lesser of two evils.

The door opens and I squint against the light. Hatch props open the door with his foot and kneels down to get something he’d placed on the ground. There’s a tag hanging from the door handle. Do not disturb. A logo. I blink, trying to focus against the bright light.

Majestic Mountain Inn.

“Got breakfast.” The door slams, and Hatch moves to the small table to drop a bag and two insulated to-go cups.

Majestic Mountain Inn. Majestic Mountain Inn. It said Majestic Mountain Inn.

He turns toward me, his eyes raking up my bare legs to my ass that’s on display from beneath the skin-tight and too-short dress I’ve been in since last night. “You look fuckable all tied up like that.”

If I had food in my stomach, I would’ve puked. Instead, I flip him off with my chained-up hand.

He chuckles and comes over to me, pulling a key from his pocket and holding it up for me to see. “You make one more call today, be a good girl, and I’ll let you eat and take a shower. Deal?”

Phone call! I nod. “Yes.”

He reaches behind one panel of his cut and pulls out my cell. “That place you work with the kids. Call—”

“How’d you know about that?” I never talked to him about my volunteer work, did I? It’s the only part of my life that was really and truly me, something I kept to myself.

He runs a callused finger along my lower lip. “I know everything, Trix.” His lips tighten and he drops his hand. “Call ’em. Tell ’em you’re out of town or taking care of a sick relative. Don’t give a fuck; just do it.” He presses the phone into my palm and then sits at my hip, watching.

My muscles protest as I push up to lean against the headboard. Nerves tick beneath my skin, and I wish I could do this in privacy. After all, how much can I say with Hatch sitting six inches from my face? With a trembling finger, I dial the Youth Center.

“LV Youth, this is Sylvia.”

I clear my throat. “Hey, Sylvia, it’s Trix.” I keep my eyes on Hatch.

“Trix, hi. What’s going on?”

“Listen, um . . . I have to go out of town for a while, um . . . sick family member.” I swallow. “My sister.”

Hatch pins me with a glare, and his jaw works back and forth.

I shrug and mouth I’m sorry, it just came out. Which is total bullshit.

“Oh, no. Honey, I’m sorry. Is it serious?”

“Serious? Yeah, I’ll probably be gone for a while, but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, sure. Yes, family first. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Hatch gets up and moves to the table to grab his coffee.

“It’s alright. I’m kinda looking forward to going home.” I fist my hand around the phone.

“Where’s home again?”

I pinch my eyes closed and hold my breath. “Majestic Mountain.”

I brace for Hatch’s punishing slap.

“Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Just outside of town—” My throat constricts with the power of Hatch’s hand wrapped around my throat.

“Sounds lovely.

My mouth opens and closes, but I can’t breathe enough to get a word out. I watch as Hatch tries to figure it out, his eyes darting around the room, searching for something he missed.

“I’ll get you covered here. You let me know when . . .”

Her words dissolve as black invades my vision. My eyes roll, and the phone falls from my hand as I fight for consciousness. He shoves the phone to my ear and releases my throat enough to suck in a quick breath.

“Oh, honey, don’t cry. Your sister’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

He mouths say good-bye.

“Good-bye.”

“Bye, Tri—”

He rips the phone from my ear. “Nice try.”

This time I see his fist coming, but it’s too late to brace.

I barely register the pain before everything goes black.

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