Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Considering I was the one woken up by a cock sliding into me, I would think it would be me, but something had crawled up his ass from the time we got up. Agitation from leaving his brethren maybe.
All I knew is that I was getting grumpy as well. Hangry, topped with a three-hour time difference that made me sleepy.
“Why?”
“It’s not clear.”
I quirked a brow at him. “Not clear?”
He shook his head. “It’s no good.”
I sighed. “Fine by me.”
We drove around for a few minutes before pulling into another motel that looked a bit better than the last, but still in a shitty area. Six went to rent a room while I stood outside, soaking in the warm sun.
It was finally April, so it was a nice, dry heat in the desert city, making the sun feel that much warmer.
I closed my eyes and relaxed a bit, or as much as I could. There’d been a constant fear laced adrenaline pumping through me in small doses since he took me. Almost two months of that, and it felt good to soak up some sun.
“Hey, sweet thing, how you doin’ today?” a strange voice asked.
I opened my eyes to find a man in front of me licking his lips and acting all cool like he was the shit. Dressed in an oversized shirt and jeans down past his ass, he was the epitome of the stereotypical ghetto gangster, but he could’ve been a wannabe. I couldn’t tell the difference with the area we were in.
“Good.”
He stepped forward. “You lookin’ for a party, baby?”
“No. Thanks.”
Another step closer, he placed one hand on the car next to my shoulder and leaned in.
“You sure? I bet I can make this sweet body sing. A little love drug and my love club can make you feel real good, baby.”
It was incredibly hard not to laugh at his cheesy lines. Being with Six had desensitized my danger warnings. Normally, I would have been uncomfortable in that type of situation, but the one I feared the most would kill the guy without even thinking. The wannabe in front of me didn’t stand a chance.
Maybe cokeheads or hood rats went for the bullshit he was selling, but not me. Besides, some of the best sex I’d ever had was holding me hostage. Though I’d become more of a companion.
In the background noise there was the distinct ca-click of the slide being pulled and flying back in place. The guy recognized the sound as well and froze.
My gaze was still locked on his eyes that had widened significantly. “I think he has a problem with it. I’d run before he pulls the trigger. I don’t want blood on my shirt.”
He nodded and scurried away, tripping on the curb as he hauled ass.
I chuckled as I turned to Six, who was stowing his gun. There was no amusement. All serious and businesslike and maybe even a little pissed.
“Don’t talk to anyone.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on! You think I initiated contact?”
“You were flirting.”
“No, I thought it was funny,” I said with a shake of my head. “Maybe a bit flattering as well. You may be giving me the goods, but you’re lacking in many other areas.”
He slammed one hand onto the car, blocking my path, the other hand grabbing on to my hair and yanking back.
“This isn’t fun and games. I’m using you before I kill you.” His teeth pressed against my neck, biting hard before pulling away and letting go of me.
“Such a charmer.”
The side glare he gave me only made me want to bait him more, because the jealousy he’d begun to display was one of the last reactions I expected from him.
The trunk was filled with our two suitcases, his book bag holding the super-secret laptop, and the bag full of weapons.
“You really would love it if the world went into some nuclear war or something equally as population devastating so there wouldn’t be as much cattle around, wouldn’t you?” I asked as I took the book bag from him.
He stared into my eyes, unblinking. “Yes.”
Nothing but truth behind his fake baby blues.
Speaking of, I couldn’t wait to get the stupid contacts out of my eyes. They’d bothered me for the last twelve hours.
The room was on the second floor, which meant hauling all of the shit we’d acquired up.
“Why do you always stay in such shitholes?” I asked as we entered a ‘70s version of the previous shitholes, only with early ‘90s updates.
“Because a lot of the people here don’t snitch on illegal activities.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like you’re buying drugs or are wanted.”
“No, but right now, you’re wanted and I don’t want my face on cameras.”
Point.
I steered my suitcase closer and turned the dials of the lock. When I set it up, I used the last four digits of my phone number. A phone that was blown up almost two months prior.
Strange how it was always attached to my hand for games, music, Facebook, but I’d hardly missed it. There was no desire to check anything. Only the desire to live, and I was doing it the only way I could.