Page 31 of Ballistic

“I’m an adult, you know. It’s not, like, statutory rape, or anything.”

“For fucks sake, it’s not anything but a place to sleep.”

“It almost doesn’t even qualify as that.”

“Well, this place takes cash, and they don’t ask questions.”

“Sounds upstanding. You must come here a lot.”

“Only when I’m looking to lay low after hiding the bodies of eighteen year olds with smart mouths. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

Beyond the windshield, Dax made his way into the motel office. In a grey T-shirt and dark jeans, with muscles that popped through his sleeves, he certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, evident in the way the clerk smiled at him. Probably the most excitement she’d seen all week.

Unapologetically strong, yet unwittingly handsome. Probably what made him even more attractive—the guy didn’t even seem to notice the attention he stirred.

I glanced around, taking note of the outdated features of the building, the yellowing curtains that shuttered every window, and the ripped-up fascia tearing away from the roof. A total shithole, but no worse than where I’d come from, I guessed.

As a jolt struck me, I clamped my eyes shut.

Water. Choking. Hands prodding. Laughter.

Panic rippled through my veins. I clenched my hands into tight fists, holding them at my temples, and bent forward, pounding at either side of my head. Stop! Stop it!

The driver’s side door flew open, and I snapped out of the visual, straightening in my seat.

“All set.” Already halfway inside the car, Dax reached into the backseat, gathering up the two duffle bags he’d packed, and a third bag I’d seen him toss guns inside.

For a moment, I wondered what he’d done to have acquired them. He seemed to be no stranger to packing light and moving, something I’d grown very accustomed to myself over the last few years. Only those who flirted with danger lived that way, never taking root in any place in particular.

For two years, I’d traveled the world with Dmitry to avoid his enemies, only to come full circle and groom my own.

I slid from the front seat and followed Dax up the rickety staircase to the upper level of the motel. Decked out in his sweatpants and oversized T-shirt, with the cuts still visible on my face, I supposed he was right—we did look questionable together. Had I seen myself through an onlooker’s eyes, I might’ve reported it to the police and hoped I’d saved some young girls life, but at that point, Dax had proven to be a saint alongside the men who’d kept me like an animal. Yet, he still carried an air of mystery about him, an enigma I’d enjoy cracking to pass the time over the next couple of weeks.

A waft of mold and faint chlorine, coupled with whatever gusted in from the window-mounted air conditioning, blew past my nose, as he threw open the door to the dated room with two skinny beds, side by side.

“I’m guessing they don’t rent the double beds out often, but just in case.” Dax tore back the browning bedspread and tossed it on a chair across the room. The sheets looked clean, but old and weathered from too many washes.

Not that I had any room to complain after living in a storage unit for weeks.

An unbidden memory of metal and damp, rotting cardboard over the musty stench of unwashed sheets flashed through my mind, and I grimaced, mentally willing away the parts of those visuals I couldn’t bear to think about. I was grateful for the drugs that’d kept me at a distance from them. Still, I knew at some point they’d come crashing in on me, dragging me out to an endless ocean of pain and shame.

I just hoped they’d hold off for a while. At least until I could track down the men on my kill list.

Dax set down two of the bags, keeping the smaller one with weapons on his shoulder. He didn’t trust me, and maybe after the little knife incident, I couldn’t really blame him. Slipping them under the bed I didn’t stand beside, he jerked his head toward the bathroom. “Why’n’t you go take a shower. I’ll see what they have for food around here.”

“You’re leaving?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, and even I frowned at the longing clinging to my words. Surely, I hadn’t come to feel safer around him, so what did I care if he left?

“No. I’ll pull it up on my phone, and we’ll head out after I get cleaned up.”

With a subtle nod, I padded toward the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Darkness swallowed me as I stood there for a moment, taking in the safety of obscurity, because the moment I flipped on that light, I’d be faced with what they’d done to me.

Don’t look, my head prodded, but the second I snapped the switch, my eyes filled with tears.

I ran my hand over the short-cropped hair that looked almost white beneath the unforgiving fluorescent lights.

Clippers buzzed over my skull, scraping across my skin. Hands pressed into my biceps, holding me down. The screams bellowed inside my ears as small tufts of hair tickled my face, falling to the floor below.

Tears slipped down my sunken cheeks, and I smeared the wet trail over a yellowing bruise. Eyes still fixed on my reflection, I tipped my head back just enough to see the small cut that lined my jaw and clamped my eyes to the image of Vinco holding a blade to my throat as he tore away my underwear.