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“Hello. Need a room for the evening...or the hour?”
The man’s sly grin widened as he stared at Kara.
“All night long.” Jace locked gazes with the man and didn’t drop his until the man did.
Jace turned to Kara. “Honey, why don’t you wait outside in the fresh air?”
The clerk told him the amount. Jace opened his wallet and thumbed out the cash.
“Nice bike,” the man suddenly said. “Been riding a while?”
Kara yawned and rubbed her bottom. Jace caught a glimpse of well-known ink on the man’s arm. Devil horns in crimson with a snake threading through them.
Guy was a DP. Damn. Yet maybe not. He might be a wannabe or prospect.
“A while. You ride?” Jace asked.
“Had to sell my bike.” The man’s gaze sharpened on his face, then he looked him up and down.
Jace didn’t like how the guy picked up his phone and studied it intently, as if getting word of the Rapture. All his instincts warned this dude was no good.
He needed to toss him a little misdirection in case the clerk was connected to the DP.
Jace picked up the motel key. “Going to Texas but first dropping this little lady off at a friend’s. Got a little business to do—and I don’t want the company. Not until tomorrow morning, after we both have a little fun.”
Filled with distaste, Jace winked at the man.
The clerk nodded, counted the cash and put it away. Already his interest was elsewhere. “Have a good night.”
Jace opened the office door but saw in the glass the clerk get on his cell phone. Not good.
Best to leave, now...
Aw, damn.
Sitting on the curb, Kara had propped up her chin on one fist, her eyes closed. She was dead tired.
Getting her to ride was impossible and risky. She’d fall off. No choice but to stay here for her to catch a few z’s.
Arm around her waist as he supported Kara, remembering happier times when they’d snagged a room for the night to enhance their romance, he helped her into Number 9.
Soon as they got inside, he set Kara on her feet and yanked down the threadbare bedspread. His ex, whose expense budget probably covered five-star resorts with mints on the pillow and Egyptian cotton sheets, fell onto the lumpy bed and was instantly asleep. He removed her sneakers. Jace shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it over a chair at the scratched desk. He went outside, parked the bike in front of their room and grabbed their knapsacks from the bike’s saddlebags.
Jace made sure to lock the door. He checked the exits—window by the bed. It overlooked a dark alleyway. Not good.
Sighing, he rubbed a hand through his hair. He grabbed shampoo from his bag and stripped, then stepped into the shower. Water spurted out. At least the pressure was good. He showered, using the postage-size soap the motel kindly provided, and washed the day’s strain out of his hair.
Minutes later, he padded into the room, feeling a little more revived.
Sleep was impossible right now. He’d lived without it before. More important that Kara rested.
Maybe he could blend in with lowlifes, but Kara stood out, a diamond among costume jewelry.
Not for the first time, Jace wondered if he should have swapped his bike for a rental car. But the bike was faster and he had to stay in character. Gator would never drive a car, and as far as he knew, Lance trusted him to find Dylan and the missing jewels.
He didn’t want to stay here. He wanted to push on. But Kara needed rest. Jace accessed the internet using his phone and logged in to retrieve his messages.
Cold sweat trickled down his back.
