Page 28
“Me neither.” He needed to stretch, to run, to be away from Phoebe’s maddening scent and his own maddening thoughts for a few minutes.
He pulled out onto the empty road. The sun had begun to dip in the sky, painting it pink and orange above the tree line. He glanced at Fee and she gave him a soft smile.
“Sorry I snapped at you,” he said.
Fee shrugged. “Sorry I got us lost.”
“We’ll find them tomorrow.”
Theo’s eyes were on the road, so he didn’t see Phoebe’s eyes flick to the side before she answered. “Yep. We’ll find them tomorrow.”
The lobby of the motel might have been quaint fifty years ago. But currently, it was barely holding itself together.
Much like Phoebe herself.
The previous plaid pattern of the wallpaper was now nothing more than faded stripes, and the carpet beneath Phoebe’s feet was worn and stained in ways she didn’t want to think about. A couch, which you couldn’t pay her to sit on, was hunched sullenly against the wall. Its only companion was a low coffee table strewn with magazines from before the Clinton administration. The room smelled like damp despair.
She drew her attention to the check-in desk that was too large for the space. The small sign hanging from the front of it claimed that this mess had been blessed, but by what deity she couldn’t possibly imagine.
“Maybe we should just camp out,” she hissed in Theo’s ear as the ancient man behind the counter typed into a computer that looked even older than he was.
Theo shook his head. “I didn’t bring any gear.”
Phoebe shuddered at the thought of what state the motel’s beds might be in, but she didn’t argue. It was too damn cold to sleep outside anyway.
“No, no.” Theo was practically shouting at the man and still he leaned forward like he was having trouble making out the words. “We need one room with two beds.”
The old man shook his head. “All we have left is one room with one bed. Take it or leave it.”
“How is that possible?” Theo shouted, gesturing to the shabbiness around them. It was hard to believe a place like this was in high demand.
The man shrugged. “A troop of Scouts claims they saw a wolf on their campout. Got scared and came here to book some rooms instead.”
Theo growled. “Jesus Christ.”
Phoebe stepped forward, twining her fingers with Theo’s. He squeezed tight like she was the only thing stopping him from tearing this man apart.
She smiled sweetly as the man took a giant step back. “One bed is fine,” she cooed, taking the key from his still outstretched hand. “Thank you so much for your help.” She tugged Theo back out into the night air, still snarling under his breath.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered as they traipsed down the sidewalk to their room.
Number 7. The yellow light in front of the door flickered ominously.
“You’re getting soft in your old age,” she teased, elbowing him in his very not soft side. Theo might have been the smallest of his brothers, but the man was pure, lean muscle. A thought Phoebe shoved into the far corners of her mind along with other unhelpful thoughts about his ass, his eyes, and his smile.
Theo huffed but the humor was back in his voice when he said, “I’ve grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle.” Phoebe laughed as she pushed open the door.
Despite the slightly musty scent, the room wasn’t terrible, although the decor left something to be desired.
“Do you think he stayed here at some point?” she asked, pointing to the portrait of Abraham Lincoln on the wall.
Theo smirked. “They gave us the presidential suite, I guess.”
Phoebe laughed. “Must have been your charm working.”
“That old bastard could barely see my dazzling smile.”
She giggled again. “They must have spent their money on the beds and not the lobby,” she said, plopping down on the surprisingly comfortable mattress. Even the bedspread seemed new, thank the goddess. She was not about to sleep in old, dirty bedlinen…