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I patted my stomach. “I had over a week of nothing but hospital food. I’m building myself back up.”
She suppressed a smile. “Good. I wouldn’t want you wasting away.”
“No chance of that.”
I started the car back up, and we drove out of the city to find a strip of motels. Choosing the most respectable looking of the bunch, I went to get us a room. I didn’t bother asking for two rooms, or even enquiring if that was what she wanted. After what had happened in the kitchen, I figured she wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with me. Besides, considering the number of people who wanted her dead, I didn’t want to be separated from her for any longer than necessary. I was sure she was a capable woman and could use a gun, but that didn’t mean I wanted to leave her alone. If something happened to her while I was sleeping right next door, I’d never forgive myself.
We went into the motel room together. It was clean but basic—a double bed with white sheets, a desk containing a small television. A couple of bedside cabinets were positioned on either side of the bed. Forgettable prints hung as artwork on the walls. I checked the bathroom. The owners of the motel had provided toiletries—soap, shampoo, and a couple of travel toothbrushes and toothpaste. We would be fine.
“I don’t know about you,” I told her, “but all I can smell is fried chicken. I’m going to take a shower and try to wash it off. Assuming I’m not starting to turn into a piece of chicken, that is. I think I ate enough of it.”
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the cell phone I’d given her. She glanced up at me as I spoke, but I could see she was distracted—not even hearing my lame joke.
“Sure, I’m going to call Detective Caraway and let him know where I am.”
“You sure you can trust him?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He could have had me killed long ago if he wanted. I’m pretty sure he’s clean. He wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if he didn’t want anything other than what I wanted, too.”
“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”
I switched on the shower, but left the bathroom door open so I could keep an eye out into the other room. I took Harvey’s gun and placed it on the shelf right outside of the bathroom stall. I wanted it within easy reach, just in case.
I caught sight of Vee’s reflection in the mirror of the dressing table. She was speaking on the phone now, to the detective, I assumed.
I pulled my shirt over my head, and then went to work on my pants. I looked up and caught her eye in the mirror. Though still on the phone, she was watching me strip.
A little thrill of lust went through me, and I felt myself harden for her.
I forced myself to turn away. I didn’t want her to think I only wanted one thing from her. Besides, I knew she was exhausted. She needed her rest.
Stepping into the shower, I let the water wash away the dirt of the day.
Movement came from behind and I spun toward it, automatically reaching for the gun, but then Vee’s naked, lean body stepped into the shower, and I froze.
She moved into me, her arms slipping around my waist and up my back. Our bodies pressed together and she laid her head on my chest. My arms found their way around her body and I held her. We stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, just two people holding each other while the water thundered down around our bodies.
A memory flashed into my head. Of standing in a similar situation, but on my own. Though my head had been filled with thoughts of her. She’d been right next door while I’d masturbated in the shower, thinking of her as I did, and then, later, she’d come to my room, and we’d fucked.
The memory made me catch my breath, causing Vee to look up. “What is it?”
“I remembered something else. Us, together, in a different motel. We’d been talking and then …”
The memories kept coming, the things we’d talked about. She’d told me about how she’d killed her sister’s attacker when Nicole was only fourteen. I was starting to remember the reason protecting Nicole was so important to her. I still couldn’t remember the things about my own past that made me who I was—or at least who I had been—but I was starting to remember her and the time we’d spent together.
Maybe that would be enough.
