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She searched her memories for some clue. That’s right. Carl had been enraged. But not his usual controlled, icy anger. No, this had been something different.
Since Bartolli’s guys nearly found them, they’d started traveling at night and sleeping during the day. Now here they were, in another motel where they didn’t ask for ID and charged by the hour.
Carl had been getting more tense, but this was the first time he’d completely lost control.
But why?
They’d been on the run for a few weeks, but it felt like forever. She couldn’t keep going. She was done. All she wanted was for it to end.
Memory struck her. That’s right. That’s why he’d lost it this time.
She’d tried to run.
God. Why did she have such shitty taste in men? This was it. No more men.
Should be an easy vow to keep. After all, she was going to die soon.
She tugged at the ropes around her wrists, securing her to the bed in this shitty motel. She was lying on the bedcover. Ew. Who knew what had gone on in here? She bet that no one had cleaned this cover in years.
You’re going to die soon. What does it matter that you’re likely lying on years’ worth of bodily stains?
Don’t vomit. You can’t afford to throw up.
As well as being beaten half to death, she was also dehydrated and starving. She wasn’t sure how long Carl had been gone. After she’d been knocked out, he must have put her on the bed and tied her up.
It was a toss-up whether he was even coming back. Maybe he’d left her to take the heat off him.
But she didn’t think that was likely. He was way too possessive of her to let her go. More likely, he’d gone to get them a new vehicle. Or meet with his friend. They could hardly attempt to cross the border in a stolen car.
Of course, the fact that she likely looked like she’d gone two rounds in a boxing ring without any protection was also going to be a problem.
Fuck. She really did have crappy taste in men.
Her father had been an asshole who used to hit her when he got drunk. And then there was . . . well, she didn’t want to think about him right now.
Since this was all his fucking fault.
A cramp hit her stomach. She really needed to eat. And drink. Although maybe being dehydrated was kind of a blessing, considering she was tied up. Not like she could reach the toilet if she needed to pee.
Licking her dry lips, she closed her eyes and escaped into sleep.
2
“This is unexpected. I don’t really like surprises.”
The deep voice interrupted her dream. She’d been in her happy place. A cabin in the mountains by a lake. Sitting on a window seat reading. With no one around to interrupt her.
Bliss.
Or it would have been, if this dude hadn’t come along and shattered the dream.
“Go away,” she muttered.
“Why?”
Why? Was he for real?
“Because you’re interrupting my dream.”
