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A couple minutes later, we pull into a small parking space in front of something that looks like a cottage. There’s several of the same cookie cutter buildings around us, but at least this one is just for me and him.
We settle into the room, finding we have a kitchenette, flat screen TV, and queen-sized bed to go along with a blue loveseat and two end tables. The cream-colored walls are covered in hand painted photos of what looks like the house we’re staying in, plus buildings from the town about a hundred years ago. The burgundy carpet runs through the townhouse, matching the thick valance and panel sets on the windows.
“Looks like a place for a grandma, but it’s nice enough.”
Quin removes his jacket and shoes, inspecting them closely. “I’ll have to get rid of these. There’s blood on them.”
“At least they’re black and nobody could tell.”
He rips off his shirt and unbuttons his pants. “I have to shower. Need help with anything?”
“Can you help get this jacket off me?” I ask, dragging my heels on the carpet to loosen my boots and toe them off.
Quin comes around and removes my jacket with caution. To keep me from having to extend my arms to get my undershirt off, Quin uses the tear in the bloodied material and rips it completely in half. He does the best he can to keep me from moving too much, but I wince and hiss as the remaining scraps of my shirt are taken off me.
Standing up, I pull the covers back on the bed before turning to face him. “I may pass out before you get out.”
“Then let me help you out of these,” he says, reaching out to unbutton my jeans.
He drops down into a crouch as he pulls the material down, allowing me to step out of them. His eyes meet mine.
“You look good down there. Maybe I sleep naked.”
He smirks. “You’re too hurt to play these games.”
“Not even a blow job? I think I’ve earned one.”
“No.” He stands up and tosses my jeans on the couch. “Get some rest. I’ll check on that later. I don’t have any pain killers but maybe I can find some tomorrow.”
“You know what might help?” I ask, sitting on the mattress before I attempt to lay down and scoot over. My flirtatious remark dies on my tongue as pain settles in. “Oh fuck. Never mind. Just forget it.” I grimace as I try to settle into a decent position.
He chuckles before heading to the bathroom. I don’t know how much time goes by, but at some point, I feel the covers pull back and cold air hits my torso. Quin’s fingers graze the area around my bandage before he feels my forehead.
“Still alive,” I murmur.
He covers me back up and makes his way to his side of the bed. “Good.”
ChapterThirty-Five
We’ve been here for two days, and through the entire forty-eight hours, Quin is in and out, getting us food, picking up some pain killers for me as well as new bandages, and keeping me up-to-date on the road conditions. My wound is still ugly but doesn’t seem to be showing signs of infection. Probably thanks to Quin’s constant checks.
The news hasn’t mentioned anything about Willow’s death, so she still hasn’t been discovered, nor reported missing. We know we’re on borrowed time, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about what we’re going to do going forward.
“Hey,” I say as we lounge on the bed watching the news. “What’s the plan?”
He scoots up and leans against the headboard, taking a deep breath. “I already called my job and told them I had to quit. I had a story I told Jason about my dad being sick, so I’m running with that. There will be proof that it was brought up previously, so if anyone ever questions it, he’ll be able to say, ‘Yeah, he mentioned it in October.’ They weren’t exactly thrilled because with all this snow they need all the workers they can get, but how can you argue with someone who’s dad is in the hospital?
“So, the story for me is my dad is sick, probably dying, and I have to move back home to help my mom. I called my landlord with the same story and said I would be by to grab all personal effects and will arrange a moving company to pick up furniture whenever he can be there to supervise. I offered to pay rent for the next two months, so he can have enough time to get a new tenant.”
“Okay. I should’ve known you’ve been planning everything out. Where are you moving? And where does that leave me?”
“I’m not sure where yet, but you’re coming with me. Obviously.”
I grin. “Obviously, huh?”
“I’m not going to leave you to the wolves. If the cops are good at their jobs they may connect you to the women who’ve gone missing, but just because you were at the store where one worked and at a library with the other doesn’t mean you’re the only person to be there with them. There’s no real proof. Where are the bodies?”
“Gone. Far far away and not near my house.”
