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A little while later, the police left, taking their equipment with them. Officer Rosa left her a card and told her to call his line directly if she received any more threats.
“Good to see you, Rafe.”
“Josh.”
“You know him?” Donni asked.
“We went to parties together when we were young,” Rafe said shortly.
She turned the card over in her hands. “Ooh, he’s a detective. VIP.”
“You can’t stay in this house.” Rafe turned the cup in his hands. “It’s not safe.”
“Well, what do you suggest? It’s two in the morning.”
“Come to my motel room. The doors are all outside. There’s no lobby. It’s very discreet.”
The worddiscreetput her up on her guard. She glanced at his face sharply and could find no lewdness in it. He actually looked . . . concerned.
“Can I bring my dog?”
“If she’s quiet.”
“She will be. She’s dopier than a Grateful Dead fan right now.” Donni hesitated. “Put on one of your father’s shirts. I’m not risking anyone seeing us like this.”
He shrugged and slid to his feet. She watched him go for a beat before slipping into her Toms and fetching her dog’s crate from the hall closet. Carrier in hand, she paused with her face resting against the cool surface of the door.What a horrible fucking night, she thought miserably.
Ten minutes later, she was buckled into Rafe’s Prius. She eyed the Welcome Back Motel distrustfully, thinking it looked more like the kind of place that would be glad to see the back of you, possibly after sticking a knife in. The pool looked radioactive and the building was painted the color of pink that was typically relegated to strip clubs and cheap birthday cakes.
Rafe inserted his key into the lock and fiddled with it before it popped open stickily. Inside, the AC was running and it smelled like mildew. “It’s cold in here,” she said, shivering.Like a morgue.
“The thermostat’s broken,” he said. “If I turn the gage up, the heater kicks on.”
“Jesus.”
“You get used to it.” He tore his father’s golf shirt off and let it drop. He was already unfastening his pants as he walked towards what Donni assumed was the bathroom. A minute later, he proved her right by running the shower. God, a shower sounded like heaven. She’d only had time for a French bath before the cops came, dabbing on enough essential oil that she hoped she wouldn’t smell like sex.
Scowling now, she changed into the sleep shorts she’d brought. There was a tank top, too, but Marco’s shirt would be better. It’d be warmer and would cover more.
As soon as Rafe left the bathroom, she flung herself into it and took the hottest shower she could—which wasn’t, very—rinsing off what remained of her mineral foundation and mascara, before washing under her arms and between her legs.Delaying the inevitable, her brain whispered, and her eyes went guiltily to the door. There was still an ache deep in her belly.
It occurred to her again that Rafe was virtually a stranger now. She didn’t really know much about him at all. It wasn’t like they’d stayed in contact. He had tried, but she had made a point of cutting him off, as scared of his messages as she was of the consequences. For all she knew, he could be the one tormenting her now in an attempt to drive her into his arms.
Could he be that manipulative?
She shut off the water with a trembling hand, already knowing the answer.
Rafe was already under the sheets and from the way they draped over his body, she suspected they were the only thing. “I don’t recommend the floor,” he said, without opening his eyes. “There’s ants.”
“Could you have chosen a more disgusting place to stay?”
His mouth turned up. “I didn’t figure you’d be staying with me.”
Donni curled up on the edge of the double bed, trying to get warn beneath the thin, scratchy sheets. Behind her, she felt Rafe edge a little closer. Close enough to feel the heat from his body.
“Strange, isn’t it?”
She dug her fingers into the sheets. “What’s strange?”
