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I packed as calmly as I could with my heart and mind racing. I took all of my clothes, except the red dress. I crumpled that up in a ball and threw it into a corner. I surveyed Caleb’s cache of tools and took some plastic restraints and pepper spray. You never knew what sort of trouble you could get into while traveling. Frowning at what seemed like a trifling amount of protection in my shoulder bag, I also took the collapsible baton. I’d come to think of it as mine, anyway.
And on one last impulse, I grabbed his Taser.
I would need cash. Caleb had socked away a good portion of our earnings in the hotel-room safe. He’d used my fast-approaching birthday as the combination. The thought of stealing from him . . . well, it didn’t bother me a whole lot, at the moment.
I dropped my bags near the closet door and was about to kneel in front of the safe when I heard the electronic lock click on the hallway door. I froze.
Caleb was back already!
How the hell did he get his tires inspected that fast? I glanced at the clock. He’d been gone for almost three hours. Apparently, I’d spent more time in the bathroom having a mental breakdown than I’d realized.
The thought of him walking through the front door, all smiles, made me want to swing that horribly heavy hotel steam iron at his face. But that would probably tip him off that I was angry. Right. I could act my way through this. I’d faked orgasms that made Glenn think he was some sort of sexual wunderkind. I could play the loving, stupid, unassuming, naive, deceived, imbecilic—
Rein it in, Campbell, I told myself as the door opened. You can play the loving girlfriend for the next few minutes. Just get him to leave the room, and you’re gone.
I straightened, kicked my bags into the closet, and shrugged into one of Caleb’s shirts as if I’d just been slipping into it when he returned. Not pilfering his weaponry and contemplating his demise via steam iron.
His sunny smile tore my heart like wet paper. I forced the muscles of my face into a pleasant expression.
“Took you a while,” I said as he dropped his grocery bag and strode across the room toward me. He wrapped his arm around my waist and nudged the closet door with his foot just so he could shove me against it.
“I missed you,” he rumbled, pressing my hips against the straining zipper of his jeans to show me just how much he missed me. A rush of longing crashed through me, taking my breath. He was breaking my heart. Even now, I could feel the cracks rippling across the surface.
I cupped my hand around his cheek. As much as I wanted to hate him—and I would—I was going to miss him so much.
“You OK?” he asked, dragging a thumb down my cheek. “Your eyes are all red.”
“Fine,” I said, my voice a little wobbly. I sucked in a breath to steady it. “I’ve been staring at the computer screen too long.”
“Well, I need a shower. That garage reeked, and I feel like it soaked into my skin. You could join me,” he suggested, grinning at me. “In the interest of water conservation and all.”
I kissed him, long and deep, drawing it out so that I would remember the feel of his deceitful, shameless lips on mine for the rest of my life. It took everything I had not to bite down and draw blood, to cause just a fraction of the pain he was causing me. I smiled up at him, trying not to wince at the distinct cracking sensation in my chest. “OK, you go get the water warmed up. I’ll be right there.”
He kissed me right between the eyebrows and dropped me gently onto the bed. “Will do!”
He walked across the room, whistling as he dropped his clothes. I let my head fall back on the mattress. Get up, I told myself, pushing myself off of the bed. Get out the door. Break down later.
The moment I heard the shower run, I moved back across the room to the closet.
Listening for the sound of water, I quietly slid the closet door open and tapped the combination into the safe’s keypad. I winced as each keystroke produced a loud, whining beep. I hoped his werewolf ears wouldn’t pick that up.
My eyes slid across the laptop, still open on the desk. I knew it would be so much smarter to delete the e-mail, to give me that much more time as Schuna and Caleb straightened out their miscommunications. But I wanted Caleb to know why I left. I didn’t want him to have any doubts.
Eventually, he’d look at the screen, realize what happened, and start tracking me. But before that, I wanted him to realize that I knew what a lying, lowlife asshole he was.
Stop it. You’re wasting time. Get your ass out that door and on the road.
I yanked the safe door open, finding a respectable stash of twenties bundled into five-hundred-dollar stacks. I calculated my percentage of Caleb’s stash and tucked eight hundred dollars into my pocket.
I pushed myself to my feet and slung the bag over my shoulders. After casting one last glance at the steamy bathroom, I shook my head and made for the door. I had my hand on the door handle when I felt long, wet fingers snap around my wrist.
Caleb was standing behind me, dripping wet, with no towel in sight. His expression was hurt and confused as he looked me up and down, spotting the bags, the jacket, all the signs that I was bolting.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
I had a hundred responses tumbling around in my head.
Just going to get some ice, honey.
