Hide & Seek

by Scarlett Finn

  “Giving Bella information is giving her power,” he said.

  Guessing that meant his ex didn’t know everything, Rora thought if she gave a bit of herself, maybe he’d give a little back. “Benjamin is twenty years older than me. We met at—”

  “Look, I’m sure you have a really incredible backstory. True Lifetime movies material.”

  “But?”

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he said and closed his laptop when the waitress brought their food and drinks.

  He kept the laptop open a crack while he ate his food and downed his coffee. He ate fast. Faster than she’d ever seen a person eat in her life. It wasn’t uncivilized, just like he was afraid someone might take it away from him at any second.

  Strike was back on his laptop, typing away, before she’d even half finished her burger. Letting him work, she did her best to eat quickly, just in case they had to leave in a hurry, but she was getting tired.

  “Are we going to sleep?” she asked, pushing her cooling coffee aside.

  “What?” he asked, his attention still on the computer.

  “I don’t want to drink the coffee if we’re going to sleep.”

  “Sleep?” he said like it was the most insane idea he’d ever heard. He scowled at her like she was weird for suggesting it. “Do you want to sleep?”

  “You probably shouldn’t drive anymore, right? We’ve been on the road all day. Aren’t you tired?”

  Grabbing her mug, he downed the liquid, more like he opened his throat and just tipped it on down into his stomach because it was gone in a flash. “I don’t get tired.”

  “Hmm,” she said, earning herself a side glance. “I never considered that you might be dumb enough to believe the stories. You aren’t actually immortal or inhuman; you’re as frail as the rest of us.”

  “We’ll get a room,” he said, slamming the laptop. “I’ll let you have a couple of hours.”

  “So generous,” she said, sliding to the end of the booth.

  “Get moving,” he said, tossing a bunch of bills onto the table, way more than was necessary to cover the meal.

  “Who knew Satan’s son was such a good tipper?” she said, sliding her back across his torso when she passed him.

  With his laptop in his hand, he rested his knuckles on her hip to push her towards the door. “Pay enough, you can be as rude as you like.”

  “Where do you get your money?” she asked when they pushed out into the cool night air to cross the parking lot.

  “Tonight?” he asked, scooping her body in front of his so as they walked, he occasionally bumped her to keep her moving at his pace. “That diner’s corporate account.”

  Rora gasped, tipping her chin up to look at him over her shoulder, but he kept them moving. “You can’t do that! It’s stealing.”

  “A couple of cents here, couple of bucks there, they’ll never notice it. Even if they did…” he smirked, showing her the closest she’d ever seen to a smile on his face. “They’d never trace it.”

  “Because you’re just that good,” she said.

  He shunted her forward with his hips to urge her toward the motel office door. “Get a room, I’m moving the bike.”

  Spinning around, she grabbed each side of his leather jacket, holding it so tight that the zip dug into her skin. “What’s to stop you ditching me?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “If you’re ready to tell me what I want to know.”

  As long as she kept her secret, she’d have him on the hook. Triumphant in that knowledge, she smiled and pulled herself closer. “I need some money.” His teeth clacked when she widened her grin. “Cards are traceable and somebody emptied my bank accounts anyway… How did you do that by the way?”

  “Let’s get something clear,” he said, peeling her fingers from his jacket before stepping back and pulling a roll of bills from his pocket.

  “What?”

  “We’re not friends,” he said. “And I’m not here to teach you anything or to share.”

  “You don’t like to share?” she asked, teasing him. “That’s a shocker. I’d have figured you to be a real open guy… Bet you’re a crier too.”

  Twirling away from him, she took two steps toward the office. “Rora,” he said, forcing her to pivot to face him. “If I smother you in your sleep, this is why.”

  For some reason, despite his deadpan expression and sincere delivery, she failed to contain the laugh that burst from her lips though she did squeeze them together for as long as she could. “Am I the first of your victims you’ve ever justified your crimes to?” she asked. “Does that mean I’m special to you?”

  “You’re not my victim yet,” he said. Walking backward, he held up his hand. “But I’m just saying, I’m making no promises.”

  six

  “I’m saying, a rental car would make more sense,” she said the following day when they got off the bike at a gas station. “I mean, geez, Strike…” Bending over, she pushed her hands between her legs to rub her inner thighs around to her ass. “I’m working muscles I didn’t even know I had… Don’t you feel that?”

  “Your ass?” he asked, waiting for the pump to start.

  Standing up to stretch her back, she bumped him with her hip. “Do you offer massage?”

  He glared, looking her up and down. “Did you just flirt with me?” he asked. She bobbed her brows, which only made his scowl deepen. “Don’t do that.”

  “I’m learning that the number of things in this world that make you uncomfortable far outweigh those that make you comfortable.”

  He started to pump the gas. Rora had no intention of watching him do it, so she dipped a hand into his pocket to pull out his money, another thing that made him growl at her. But he didn’t object, and he didn’t break her arm, which was more than most people could hope.

  Going inside, she was counting bills, wondering if they should get food here or if he planned to stop later. Noticing there were fresh cupcakes on a stand across the store, she went to them and selected one, considering if Strike might be a cupcake kind of person. But it was getting late, should they have cupcakes now or wait until dinner? When was dinner?

  Rora turned to seek out a clock and saw three guys approaching her. She didn’t think she’d done anything to draw attention to herself; all she was doing was standing there… holding a cupcake in one hand and a bunch of bills in the other. Hmm, she might be more appealing than she’d realized.

  Folding the bills, she stuffed them into her bra, but that seemed to intrigue the lead guy more. “That ain’t gonna stop us, sugartits,” he said, and the two that flanked him leered at her chest.

  “What is it you want?” she asked. “The money or the breasts?”

  “Oh, you hear that boys?” he said over his shoulder. “That there’s an invitation!”

  He grabbed her wrist and she screamed, trying to pull back, but his buddy grabbed her other wrist and yanked her. The third guy went around behind her to push her along. To Rora’s horror, there was a fire escape propped open just feet from where they were and it took them no time at all to get her out into the rear service space of the garage.

  They wrestled her along the wall and though she struggled and screamed, they weren’t dissuaded. The lead guy pulled her away from the wall and threw her down to the ground. Fear pumped her chest, her breaths came out as huffs, and she eyed all of them, noting the interest and intent in each of their expressions.

  “Take what you want,” she said. With her arms extended behind her and her hands in the grass, she held herself up. “Ok? You want the money? I’ll give you the money.” They closed in around her as she tried to push away from them along the ground. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

  The guy to the left screamed and arched, his shoulders thrusting back as his body bucked forward. Still in a panic, Rora didn’t know what had happened to him and didn’t see anything, until the guy turned and she noticed a blade between his shoulder blades.

  A knife. How would
a knife—the guy to the right was next to call out. She heard the familiar crack of bones before he crumpled to the asphalt. Wide eyed, she was shocked to see Strike standing where the guy had been. Now the assailant was nothing more than a blubbering idiot on the floor.

  Strike’s cold eyes slid from her to the main aggressor who was trying to puff up. “Who the fuck are you? She’s our party. Fuck off.”

  “Oh, I wish I had time to enjoy this,” Strike said, and she believed he was really disappointed.

  The two men circled each other. The way Strike had moved put more distance between her and her attackers, while at the same time putting her behind him.

  “You’re not gonna enjoy nothing!” the head guy said and charged forward.

  Rora screamed and scrambled to her hands and knees, but Strike absorbed the impact of the guy smashing into him. He pushed him back, hit once, twice, and then ducked the guy’s punch.

  “Fuck it, I don’t have time to play,” Strike said and threw another punch, which sent the guy down to the ground with an undignified thud.

  Strike breathed in so deep that his shoulders rose, he huffed the breath out and then turned to her. “Did you pay for the gas?” he asked. Managing a loose shake of her head, Rora was almost sure her thoughts jangled in her head. Was he… was this… “You gonna stay down there all night?”

  Another loose shake and then she forced herself to climb to her feet. Swallowing to moisten her dry throat, Rora was quick about wiping the stray tear from her face. Strike went to the guy with the knife embedded in his back, who was still writhing around on the ground. Without grace, he put his boot on the side of his face, squashing it down into the asphalt as he bent to pull his knife from the prick’s body.

  Another swallow, this one to quell her nausea and her hand went to her mouth. “Did you touch anything inside?” he asked, pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the guy’s blood from the blade.

  “A… a cupcake.” Which must have hit the floor during the struggle.

  He nodded. “Walk round the outside and meet me at the bike.”

  In a daze either from the near assault or his nonchalant reaction to it, she stumbled forward, ready to do what he said. But his arm came out to block her route and she recoiled, though God knew why; the guy had just saved her life.

  As if he’d sensed that instant second of ridiculous fear, he pointed his index finger and touched the underside of her chin to elevate it. “Chin up, Cupcake,” he said. “Never let them see fear.” Another slack nod from her and he opened his palm. “Money.”

  Digging it from her bra, she put it on his open hand. Once he’d folded the bills into his pocket, he gave her a shove, putting her body in front of his to walk toward the fire escape door, bumping her along as he had last night, his body shielding her from the mess he’d made.

  But he pushed her past the door and walked with her around the exterior of the building to return to the front. “Anyone asks, we were making out. That’s the line,” he said into the top of her head and jolted her toward the forecourt. “Wait by the bike.”

  Strike went inside to pay for the gas and she crossed the forecourt to return to the bike. There weren’t many people around, but enough that she was wary of what would happen if the guys out back made a scene before they made their escape.

  A minute later, Strike came out of the store holding something behind his back. Hoping it wasn’t a gun, she watched with interest when he came to a stop on the other side of the bike. Her head tilt was enough of a question and he brought his hand around to show her what he had.

  “A cupcake,” she said, taking it from him in two hands.

  “I’ll drive slow; you’ll have to eat it on the move. Can you hold onto me with one arm?”

  Her face melted into a grin. “You bought me a cupcake.”

  “Yeah, whatever, don’t make a big deal of it,” he said, getting onto the bike and steadying her as she climbed on too.

  “You’re a secret romantic, aren’t you, Strike?” she asked.

  “They had an offer on the stupid things.”

  They did have an offer, she remembered, but it was a two for one offer and he hadn’t come out with two. “I won’t tell anyone that you were sweet to me,” she said, dipping her finger into the frosting and reaching over his shoulder to smudge it between his lips.

  To her surprise, he sucked her digit clean without objecting. But he did it like it was a task to be completed, rather than anything more salacious. He can’t have felt the same quiver she did when his tongue made it through the frosting to meet her fingertip.

  “Doesn’t fit with the legend,” he said and put on his helmet. She was glad hers didn’t obstruct her mouth. “And there’s still time for me to change my mind about smothering you.”

  But she didn’t care about that, she was too busy biting into her cupcake when he rose and descended to get the bike going.

  Strike, the man who’d knocked her out, the man who’d held a gun to her head, the same guy who’d stolen from her, had bought her a cupcake. She’d never had a more valuable gift given to her in her life and she’d savor every bite.

  “But where is it that we’re going?” she asked, sitting in the middle of the motel room bed with the sheet pooled around her hips.

  It had been two days since their run-in with those guys at the gas station and so far, no cop cars had pulled them over, there was no dramatic car chase to apprehend them. They were just driving for what seemed like ever.

  Strike was sitting on the couch with his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. “Get some sleep, Cupcake,” he said, focused on whatever he was reading.

  “I’m restless,” she admitted. “I don’t feel like we’re making progress. Do you know where you’re going? Do you know where Benjamin is?”

  “I’m working on it,” he grumbled. “Until I pin him down, it makes sense to keep moving. It makes us harder to pin down.”

  Something she hadn’t considered was that this Bella might still be pursuing him. “Do you think she’s after you? That she’s sent more men after you?”

  “After us,” he said.

  Alarm prodded her. “Why would she be after me? What do I have that she wants?”

  Lifting his eyes, he asked again, “What’s the point?”

  Rora scowled at him. “Do you keep asking to aggravate me or because you think I’ll slip up and blurt out what I know by mistake?”

  “Either way, I win,” he said, returning to his typing.

  He never seemed to be off. He’d told her in the diner on the first night of their journey that he didn’t sleep and she was beginning to believe him. “Do you ever lie down?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you sleep. How do you do that? What kind of person doesn’t sleep? You must sleep. Do you sleep?”

  “I grab a half hour here and there,” he said.

  So he waited until she was asleep before he went to sleep. But how did he know how to wake up before her? “I’ve never seen you lie down.”

  “You don’t have to lie down to go to sleep.”

  Did that mean he slept sitting up? “You have serious issues, Strike,” she said, plumping her pillow.

  “You’re just now figuring that out?”

  “Tell me something about you,” she said and he drew his eyes off her, his fingers never slowing. “I’m serious. It can be anything. Just something personal.”

  “Why? So we can bond?” he muttered.

  He could be as condescending and aloof as he liked, she was going to keep prodding him. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do with her time. “To distract my mind from thinking about whatever Benjamin’s going through,” she said. “Tell me something I wouldn’t expect, something that’s not just another part of the legend… Tell me something, Strike.”

  Sucking in a breath, he dropped from his starched upright seated position into the back of the chair. “Ok,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I tell you one thing and you’ll stop bugging me?�
�� Rora nodded. “Something you wouldn’t expect…”

  “Yep,” she said, closing her fists around the sheet on her knees in anticipation of what he might reveal.

  “Anything?”

  “Yep, anything,” she said. “Anything at all.”

  “I’m terrified of flying,” he said and sat up straight to start typing again.

  Shock opened her mouth, something she was getting used to around this guy. Drawing up her knees, Rora hugged them to her chest. “Really? I would never have thought that you’d be afraid of anything! Why flying? Is it because you’re out of control? I guess, when you think about it, there’s lots of reasons to be afraid. You’re basically just toothpaste in a tube up there, waiting to be squirted out at God’s discretion.”

  He stopped typing. “God?” he asked and sneered at her. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

  “One of those people? If you’re asking if I believe in God then yeah, I guess I do…”

  “Oh shit,” he groaned, falling back into the cradle of his seat again. “You’re not serious. After everything you’ve been through, after what your brother did. You still believe?”

  “You can’t believe in Satan and not believe in God,” she said. “I don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about it to be honest. I don’t think a lot of people do these days. I’m not pedantic about following the commandments or anything.” She smiled. “I covet things I shouldn’t. All. The. Time… Another thing a lot of people do these days.”

  “What about the others?” he asked, something like interest seeping from between his eyelids. “Worshiping other gods or taking the lord’s name in vain.”

  “Oh, I do that all the time,” she said. “I don’t mean to, it just… I don’t know.”

  Closing his laptop, he used his hand on it to boost himself onto his feet and started toward her. “Do you keep your Sabbath holy?” he asked, creeping toward her. She shook her head. “What about bearing false witness, you ever do that?” She nodded and he sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, his voice growing slower and more seductive, like he was talking to a lover about what he planned to do to her. “You ever steal anything, Cupcake?” She nodded and he hissed. “I find out you’ve broken one more and I’ll believe there’s hope for you yet…”