I wasn't sure if Mark was telling the total truth, and I looked in his direction. "Since we've met, tell me every job you've done over the past month."
Mark nodded and his face grew grim as his mind went back. "The night we met, I killed a Russian loan shark, Karl Vaslov. He went into business for himself, and the Confederation found out about it. He started trying to use his financial backing to expand into other fields, specifically the vice and drug trades. The next job I did for pay was an assault on a mixed martial arts fighter, spraining his left knee so that his opponent would have an advantage for their upcoming fight. I did two industrial espionage jobs, simple breaking and entering and getting files out of computers. The only unpaid criminal act I did was against Glen Green. I visited his house the night after we met. Other than a black eye, I didn't hurt him, but I did threaten him."
I nodded, not too surprised. "I'd wondered what happened to Green. He wouldn't tell anyone."
"Well, that's another way I got myself in trouble," Mark replied. "What I didn't know is that Glen Green was a frat brother with Owen Lynch. It was just one of the reasons that Owen wanted to use you to get to me."
Mark pulled off the Interstate, working his way along the minor roads. We drove for about another ten minutes before he pulled into a small motel, far away from the highway. "It's no luxury hotel, but it's safe, and they take cash," Mark explained as he shut off the engine. "It's one of four reservations I made this afternoon under false names from a burner phone. By the way, do you still have your cell phone?"
"Yeah," I said, pulling it out. "Do I need to get rid of it?"
"No, but shut it off and take out the battery for now," Mark explained. "Are there any very important numbers you have on there?"
"Just Tabby and a few other friends." A thought came to my mind, and I reached over to take his hand, which was still on the gear shift. "Mark, am I going to have to leave my entire life behind?"
Mark looked out the windshield, his face stony. "I don't know, Sophie. I hope not, but I honestly don't know. Let's go inside."
I grabbed our bags while Mark talked to the man at the front desk, coming back with a key. "Room seven," he said, "around back like I asked. It's not visible from the road at all."
The room was clean but obviously dated. The television looked like it was older than I was, and the wood paneling screamed nineteen seventies. Still, the bed was king sized and looked clean, the sheets were white and crisp. Mark brought in a gym bag with him, which he sat down on the small table next to the window. Pulling the single chair around, he sat down, his eyes looking out. "You need some sleep," he said quietly, keeping his vigil. "I'll make sure you're safe."
I watched him for a moment before going into the old fashioned bathroom, complete with a tiny shower that looked like it was maybe able to create a good steam if I wanted it, and a slightly warped mirror. I had packed my toothbrush, but forgot my toothpaste, so I just used water, scrubbing until my tongue squeaked over the enamel. Scrubbing my face with the cold water and provided washcloth, I then looked at myself in the mirror. A thousand questions whirled in my mind, the primary one being what my future with Mark entailed. Should I stay with him? Should I disappear? Should I just wait it out, then see if I could go back to my old life, secure that Owen Lynch or the Confederation wouldn't come after me?
On one hand, I was angry with Mark. His lies and deception had cost me, at least temporarily, everything. My friends, my job, my diploma, even my name I was sure. On the other hand, he had defended me without even blinking, taking out two armed men before they could even lay a scratch on me.
I came out of the bathroom after changing into one of Mark's undershirts, a habit I'd picked up over the past few weeks, and an old pair of light blue cotton shorts. As soon as I saw him sitting there, his eyes filled with pain but at the same time resolute. I could see, he did love me. And he'd never hit me, or hurt me, or mistreat me. Most of all though, I could see that if I asked him to, he'd die protecting me, and trying to keep me safe. It made my decision easy.
Coming over, I ran my hands over his shoulders, which tensed beneath the thick shirt he was wearing. I leaned down, letting my breasts rest on the back of his shoulders and neck, running my hands over his chest. "If you really want to make me feel safe," I whispered in his ear, while my hands worked on the buttons of his shirt, "you'll take me to bed and make love to me. Keep me next to you, safe through the night."
Mark took my hand and kissed the palm, before turning his head to look up at me. I was surprised and touched to see the glisten of tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry I've destroyed your life," he whispered. "I'll do what I can to rebuild it."