Page 19 of Harbor

No matter what.

FOUR

Why was the fucking bed shaking?

“Ren, wake up!”

This bed was far more comfortable when he fell asleep in it the night before—he hadn’t heard anything from the time his head hit the pillow. He hadn’t realized how tired he was from driving nonstop with no time for rest until he finally had the chance to sleep.

Fuck.

He slept like the dead.

“Ren!”

“What?”

His question came out more like a grunt than his actual voice. A husky, exhausted grunt that he wasn’t even sure if it made sense or not. He figured it didn’t matter; getting back to sleep was what was important to him.

“Ren, get up!”

It was only the hint of panic in Lucia’s voice that finally broke Renzo out of his sleepy daze. He cracked his eyes open to find her leaning over him in the bed. She was reaching for him again like she was going to grab hold of him, and shake him until he woke up. Fuck. Well, that explained why the bed had been shaking, anyway.

He had a good mind to ask her what in the fuck was wrong with her, but it was the fear coloring her eyes that had him sitting up straight in the bed like someone had shoved a rod in his spine. He didn’t even speak until he had jumped out of the bed, and was yanking on the pants he’d discarded the night before.

“What’s wrong?”

Lucia glanced over her shoulder at the window, but not before Renzo saw the darkness under her eyes. Had she even slept at all the night before? He couldn’t be sure because of how quickly he closed his eyes, and the fact he slept like he wasn’t going to wake up again. At least, Diego was still out like a light.

“Did you sleep at all?” he asked.

Lucia looked back to him. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

“Yes, it does. Did you sleep?”

“No.” Lucia nodded at the window. “The guy—the one who was in the office last night when I got the room—was walking around this morning. He was trying to look in the truck, and then our window. He had something in his hand—a paper, but it looked like it had a picture on it? And he was talking to someone on the phone, too.”

Renzo blinked. “Slow down.”

He didn’t think she realized it, but he barely understood what she just said. Either his brain was too tired and was struggling to catch up, or nothing she just said made sense.

“Something’s wrong,” Lucia muttered. “We need to get out of here. Why would he be looking in the truck?”

It was very possible that Lucia was just … nervous. Or rather, paranoid. Who wouldn’t be after what happened the day before? But it wasn’t like Lucia to panic. That was the thing about her. This whole time, she’d been ridiculously calm. She’d never freaked out even once. A part of him knew that, no, she wasn’t being paranoid at all right now.

If something felt wrong, then it probably was.

Renzo nodded. “When was he looking around, then?”

“He headed back to the office a couple of minutes ago. I didn’t think anything of him walking around at first, but then the second time he was looking at the truck and talking on the phone, so that kind of made me nervous.”

Looking at the truck.

“Like what, reading the license plate?”

Lucia shrugged. “Maybe? I’m not sure. What about the money I gave him for the deposit, so I didn’t have to put my ID on record, Ren? That was a thousand dollars. Are we just going to leave without that?”

He didn’t have the time to weigh the pros and cons of trying to get their cash back at the moment. If something bad was happening, like maybe somehow the cops had gotten a bead on them, then they needed to get out of there as fast as they possibly could. Who knew when the police might show up?