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CHAPTERSIX
The moment breaks the second Calix rolls me onto my back and climbs off the bed without a word, disappearing into the bathroom before slamming the door behind him. The sound echoes around the room, tugging at the void inside my empty heart, but I don’t take it personally. I know he’s as affected by me as I am by him. He wishes he wasn’t. The thing is, he’s not wrong to wish for someone else. I’m a bad choice all around. There is no happy ending in our future. That speeding train of pleasure will derail at some point, leaving nothing but chaos in its path. There are no guarantees either of us will survive what’s coming, so catching feelings right now sounds worse than catching herpes.
I sit up gingerly, the skin of my wound feeling tight and tender. I lift my shirt and take a peek. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like there is an infection. Even so, I decide to head out to my base and grab a couple of bottles of the antibiotics I keep on hand. A girl never knows when she might need them, like if I’m ever abducted by aliens or trapped in a farmhouse while zombies rage outside. I’ll be grateful that I’m so damn prepared all the time.
With a deep breath, I stand and walk over to where I left my bag. I take out a pack of wet wipes, then strip out of the wet underwear, tossing them in the trash can before cleaning myself up. It’s easy to buy more. Besides, Calix is going to need a few things. I unpack the rest of my clothes and get dressed, sliding my last pair of panties up my legs before tugging on a pair of black leather leggings. Taking another deep breath, I pull on a white long-sleeve T-shirt and my biker boots, which almost kill me to lace up.
Once I’m done, I pull my hair into a low ponytail and shove a piece of gum in my mouth, not willing to disturb him and whatever he is working through just so I can brush my teeth.
Using the complimentary notepad and pen with the motel’s logo, I leave a message for Calix that I’ll be back soon, then grabbing my helmet and bike keys, I head outside. I take a deep breath of the cool, crisp morning air, letting it center me before I pull on my helmet, climb on my bike, and take off. I ride to the rented storage unit to trade out my bike for the car.
As much as I enjoy riding, it’s not practical for the rest of the journey. Plus, I don’t think I’ll survive having Calix wrapped around me for much longer before one of us snaps.
It doesn't take long before I'm pulling up to the rental unit and unlocking the door. Once inside, I park the bike and take off my helmet. The unit itself isn't large, but it's been my home base while I've been back, housing everything I need, including my car. It’s windowless and the only way into my unit is through the rolling shutters that are padlocked and only I have the key for. A small desk sits on the left wall with a slew of plastic storage boxes stacked up beside it containing everything I might need from clothes to toiletries to weapons. Pinned above the desk is an array of papers all regarding leads and possible sightings of Santos.
Leaving the bike, I double-check that the supplies I picked up a few days ago are still in the trunk of the car, then climb into the driver’s seat and head out, locking the unit behind me. I drive to the nearest drive-through and order a selection of food, taking a couple of notes from the stash I shoved in the glove compartment. The young girl who serves me looks only half awake, making idle small talk as if it’s a prerecorded message. I take my food with athanksand place it on the passenger seat before heading back to the motel.
When I pull up, I notice the door to our room is ajar. I pull my gun from under the seat and check the chamber before climbing out and edging my way inside. I stop when I see Calix with nothing but a towel around his waist, straddling a man. Usually, that would have warranted a second look, given how utterly lickable Calix’s body is, if he wasn’t beating a man to death.
“Um…pooky?” I refrain from using his real name until I know what the fuck is going on.
Calix’s head whips up, his eyes on fire when he sees me, then the gun in my hand.
“Where were you?” he growls, a deep guttural sound that, dare I say, has a layer of worry to it. Though, maybe I’m reading into it too much.
“Getting food and a few things. I left you a note.” I point to the dresser and frown when I don’t see it.
“There was no note, only this motherfucker sniffing your underwear.”
I blink as my brain processes that before I stalk toward them and drop down into a squat, my eyes on the moaning man pinned to the floor. His face is covered with blood, but I still recognize him as the guy renting the room next door. I spot my discarded underwear in his hand and frown even harder.
“You stole my underwear out of the trash?”
Not sure why that’s what I lead with, but ew. What is it with men sniffing panties? You don’t see women going gaga with a pair of men’s boxers over their faces.
“What the fuck are you even doing in here?”
The guy focuses on me for a second before he opens his mouth and seals his fate. “I heard the bike. I thought he was gone.”
I look up at Calix, who is staring down at the man with murder in his eyes. I look down at the beaten man once more. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave him any bullets for his gun.”
Calix huffs at that, making me bite back a smile.
“So let me see if I’ve got this right. You heard the bike leave, and naturally, given the type of man you are, you assumed it was his bike. Not mine because I’m merely a woman. I can only assume you’ve never had a woman ride you, or you’d know how utterly ridiculous that is,” I rant.
“Focus, angel.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. “You came in here while the shower was running?” I ask, looking at Calix for confirmation. When he nods, I continue. “And you found my panties and note, which I’d like back, by the way.”
“Pocket,”he slurs.
I reach into the front pocket of his jeans and find the note crumpled up. I hand it to Calix as I use my gun to tap the side of the asshole’s face.
“Then what? What was the plan after that, huh? Did you come just for my panties? Hmmm…” I bend my head closer, my voice losing its joviality. Instead, it takes on a hard edge. “Except if it were only about the panties, why not just leave once you had them? Why stay and pocket the note? Unless you wanted to take something else too, something that wasn’t yours to take.”
The man starts crying, and I know I’m right.
“Boy, did you pick the wrong room.” I chuckle. “Do you know my husband was just released from prison after doing twenty years for murder?” I don’t tell him I’ve killed way more people than my husband ever did. I don’t like to brag.
