by J. L. Wilder
“We can’t just get a hotel room,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Are you crazy? Look at us.”
She had meant it rhetorically, but he actually stopped in his tracks and looked her over. “What’s the problem?”
“Well, I’m not wearing anything, for a start.” How obtuse could he be?
“You’re covered up,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not wearing pants or shoes. A hotel manager is going to think you found me on the side of the road.”
“I kind of did,” he said. “What’s the big deal about it?”
“They’ll call the cops.”
“No. They wouldn’t really, would they?”
“I don’t know for sure. But they definitely won’t rent you a room. And by the way, in case you weren’t aware, you don’t look like a fine upstanding citizen yourself. You’re not wearing a shirt.”
“I have cash,” he said, as though that settled the matter.
“How much cash have you got?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Because if you have enough, we can go to a department store—well, you can, they’re not going to let me inside—and pick up some clothes. Plus, maybe some toiletries.”
“Okay, you’re not telling me they won’t let us check into a hotel without toiletries.”
“No, I’m telling you I’ve been living in a cement bunker for a week and I’d like to brush my teeth,” she snapped. Rescuer or not, she was beginning to feel a little fed up with him. Didn’t he know anything about the civilized world? Matthew had always told the Coywolves stories about wild packs who lived on the fringes of society, who didn’t know how to interact with normal people, but she was surprised by just how far from human he seemed. It was as if he were more wolf than man.
It occurred to her, suddenly, that she might not be much better off with these Hell’s Wolves than she had been with the Savage Rangers. They hadn’t branded their mark into her skin, which was a point in their favor, but they had still picked her up with the intent of earning money. They were planning to take her back to her family, but what if they got a better offer? What if the Savage Rangers made them an offer?
“Jeez,” Emmett groaned, unaware of the thoughts running through her head. “All right. If it means that much to you, we’ll get toiletries. I still think this whole thing is a waste of time, by the way.”
“Noted.”
ON THE EDGE OF TOWN, they found a superstore that claimed to offer groceries and other retail goods. Emmett hesitated. “You shouldn’t be out here alone at night,” he said. “Even if you weren’t being hunted by a pack of shifters, I wouldn’t like it. Even if you weren’t an omega.”
“Then go fast,” she suggested.
He sighed. “Stay right here,” he said. “Right by the door. If you see anything, come in. I don’t care if you think they’ll throw you out. Better to cause a scene than to be kidnapped again, right?”
She nodded.
“All right. What am I getting?”
“Shoes. Size seven. Something cheap. Pants, size four. Jeans, maybe. A shirt for you. Toothpaste. Soap. And get yourself a razor,” she added as an afterthought. “If you can change your appearance, you’ll be harder to find.”
He shook his head. “You might know a thing or two about renting hotel rooms, but you don’t know much about tracking, do you?”
“What?”
“They won’t be looking for my stubble,” he said. “They won’t be looking for me at all. They’re tracking you. And they’ll be going by smell.”
On that unsettling note, he ran inside and began his shopping.
Hazel lurked by the door, anxiously waiting. More than once, she almost took his advice and came inside, spooked by people walking across the parking lot, but each time, it turned out to be someone heading to his or her car. No one took any notice of Hazel. The Savage Rangers were still hunting her, she had no doubt, but for the time being, at least, they seemed to have fallen behind.
Emmett emerged, clutching a plastic shopping bag. He handed Hazel a pair of jeans and cheap sneakers, both of which she put on. The fit was good enough for the time being, if not exactly up to the standards she was used to. “Okay,” she said. “This is fine for tonight.”
“Great,” Emmett said. “Let’s get out of here, then, before anything else goes wrong.”
Chapter Six
EMMETT
“You said we were getting a hotel,” Hazel accused.
Emmett, who had been staring out the window, now turned to look at her in surprise. “We did,” he said. “We’re at our hotel. What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t a hotel. This is a mo-tel.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A motel is a drive-up place with detached units.”
“I know what the difference is,” he said. “I meant, why does it matter?”
“Because...” she flushed. “Well, I thought we’d be staying someplace clean.”
Once again, he had no idea what she was talking about. The beds had been made up when they’d entered the room. The carpet was clearly vacuumed. Someone had wiped down the mirror and the bathroom sink, and there were even glasses with those little paper protectors over the rims. All in all, Emmett thought, this was one of the cleaner places he’d ever stayed.
And yet, Hazel was sitting on the edge of the bed as if it were a toxic swamp. As if she were afraid she was going to fall in and get infected with something. “What were you expecting?” he asked.
“I wanted to take a bath tonight,” she said. She let out a sigh. “I know it probably sounds silly. I should just be glad to be out of that bunker. I am glad. Don’t get me wrong. I just wish...”
“You wish what?”
“I wish I could go home!” She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. “I never thought I’d be like this. I never thought I’d find it so impossible to be away from the comforts I grew up with. But it is impossible. Not having clean clothes, not being able to wash...it honestly feels like the end of the world.” She laughed a little. “You must think I’m so melodramatic.”
“Mostly, I’m just wondering why you can’t take a bath,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened. “Have you seen that tub? It looks like something died in there!”
Emmett wondered what she would say if she saw some of the places he’d bathed. He decided not to broach that topic. “We should get something to eat,” he said instead. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
He slipped the key card into his pocket. “I’ll go see what I can find,” he said. “Until I get back, don’t open this door to anyone. No matter what they say. Understand?”
“Do you think the Savage Rangers will find me here?” she asked, fear in her eyes.
He wished he could lie to her, give her a false sense of security that would make her feel more comfortable. But to allow her to let her guard down would be to put her at greater risk. “I think it’s only a matter of time before they figure out we were here,” he said. “I’m just hoping they’re far enough behind us to give us the chance to get some sleep and move on before they get here.”
“How will we know when it’s safe for me to go home?” she asked.
“We’ll have to take that one day at a time,” he said. It was one of his greatest fears already. How was he going to outsmart the Savage Rangers? He knew that was what he would have to do if he was ever going to get Hazel back to her family.
Tucking the key card into his pocket, he headed out. He wasn’t going to spend too much time worrying about the Savage Rangers right now. The entire point of bunking down at this hotel—no, motel, he reminded himself with an internal chuckle—was to get a few hours’ rest and to recuperate from their frantic flight. They would stay attuned to their surroundings, of course, but there was no point in stopping at all if he wasn’t going to allow himself to relax.
He had a few singles in h
is leather wallet, and he’d spotted a vending machine on the way to their room. It wouldn’t be the most nutritious food in the world, but it would be calories, and that would be enough to keep them moving for a bit longer. They were going to have to make their money last as long as they could. Who knew how many nights they’d have to run before they could return to the Coywolves.
The vending machine was old and appeared to have been thoroughly picked over. Most of the snack slots were empty. There was beef jerky, though. Jackpot, he thought, feeding a few dollars into the machine and buying the last two remaining packets. Protein was just what they needed. He also chose a package of powdered donuts and used two dollars to buy two bottles of soda. Breakfast of champions.
Of course, it wouldn’t be anything like what she was used to. He shook his head again as he thought of her protests about the quality of their room. Why couldn’t she take a bath in that bathtub? He hadn’t seen anything wrong with it. It certainly didn’t look like anything had died there, for God’s sake. What a drama queen.
Being on the run with this girl was definitely going to be a challenge. First, the whole toothbrush shopping debacle, and now this. He had a feeling that nothing he did would ever be good enough to make her happy. She was used to a pampered lifestyle. She had probably been treated like a princess by the Coywolves.
Well, she’d better not start expecting that kind of thing from me, that’s all.
He gathered up the food and drinks and made his way back to the motel room, hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with more complaints from Hazel when he got there.
But when he was across the parking lot from their room, he froze in his tracks.
The door stood open wide.
He hadn’t left it open. He knew he hadn’t. He’d even stood and listened as she bolted it behind him, just to be on the safe side. And he had the only key. No one could have gotten in, could they? What had happened?
She hadn’t left? She couldn’t possibly be that stupid, could she?
Sticking to the shadows, he crept across the parking lot and toward the open door. If the Savage Rangers had taken her back, he would abandon this job, he told himself. There was only so much he was willing to put on the line for this girl. He would go back and find the rest of his pack and they would get the hell out of Rhode Island. The Savage Rangers had already proven to be bigger fish than the Hell’s Wolves liked to fry, and Emmett was seriously regretting ever getting involved.
A man appeared in the motel room doorway. He had the same three slashes tattooed on his bicep as Emmett had seen on Hazel’s arm. “Nobody here,” he yelled.
Two more men appeared out of the darkness, both astride motorcycles that idled their way across the lot. “They must have moved on already,” one of them said in a carrying voice.
“The trail went cold here, though,” the other protested. “They’re still around here, I’m sure of it.”
“Do you want to check the room?” the first man growled. “I’m telling you, it’s some kind of trick. They checked in so that their scent would lead us here, and then they found some way of covering their tracks. They’re long gone by now.”
“At least we know it’s just the two of them,” one of the men said. “Do you think it’s the alpha with her?”
“We don’t know it’s just the two of them,” the man in the doorway objected. “The guy at the front desk only saw two of them. That doesn’t mean more of them didn’t meet up here later.”
“They can’t have been here more than half an hour.”
“That’s long enough.” The man strode out of the room. He grabbed a bike from its parking space and threw his leg over. “We can’t let them get too far ahead of us,” he said. “Fall in.”
Emmett stayed frozen where he stood until the Savage Rangers had disappeared onto the highway, afraid that any movement from him would draw their attention back his way and cause them to turn around. Then he sprinted across the parking lot toward the motel room, dreading what he would find inside.
He needn’t have worried. He threw open the door, half crazed with fear, to see Hazel sitting on the edge of the bed. She was pale and her hands were clutched together in her lap, but she was alive.
All he could do was stare.
It was Hazel who spoke first. “They were here,” she said faintly. “The Savage Raiders. They were here, looking for me.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw them. Hazel, how did you—?”
“I hid,” she said. “I heard them coming, so I hid in the dresser.”
“How the hell did you do that?”
“I took out the drawers,” she said. “I threw them out the window. That left room for me in the cabinet. If they’d opened the door, they would have seen me, but—”
“But they didn’t.” And of course, this place must have been so ripe with her scent that it wouldn’t have occurred to them to notice that it was more concentrated in such an unlikely place. “That...that was really well done. Really clever. Good going.”
She nodded slowly. “We should get out of here,” she said. “Right?”
“Definitely.” He tossed her a package of jerky. “Eat this and we’ll go.”
She caught it deftly, surprising him yet again, and looked down at it uncertainly. “What is it?”
“Beef jerky. It’s good.”
“It looks like shoe leather.”
“Just eat your food, will you?” Just when he’d begun to think of her as tough and capable, she said something to remind him that she was really just a little princess.
She tore open the bag and pulled out a strip of jerky. “Where will we go?” she asked.
“Back the way we came,” he said.
“Back the way we—what?”
“Did you hear them talking?” he asked. “While you were hiding?”
“I heard them. I was too scared to really listen to them.”
“Well, they’re going forward. They’re going on the way we were going before, trying to pick up our scent again. Eventually, they’re going to realize that there’s no more sign of us, that way, and they’re going to turn around and come back here to try to track us again. And we don’t want to be between them and the motel when that happens.”
“But when they can’t find any trace of us leaving from the motel,” Hazel said,” won’t it occur to them that we went back? Won’t they follow us that way?”
“I’m hoping,” Emmett said, “that we can get to my motorcycle before then.”
EMMETT HADN’T REALIZED how short a distance they had actually come from the cornfield and the tent that was still hidden there. It had taken the Savage Rangers a surprisingly long time to track him and Hazel. He supposed that was encouraging. Maybe they sucked at tracking.
He suspected that probably wasn’t true, though. More likely, they had been dealing with fighting off his brothers. Emmett felt sick inside at the thought. If anything had happened to one of them, he would never forgive himself.
Why had he run? In the ordinary course of things, he never would have run from a fight. And now, as he analyzed his thoughts and responses, he knew that that characterization was unfair. He hadn’t been fleeing. He hadn’t been afraid.
At least, I wasn’t afraid for myself.
He had been protecting Hazel.
And yes, that was okay, that was fine as far as it went, because she was worth a huge payout to him and his pack, and because they’d agreed to protect her. But it surprised him that he hadn’t violated that agreement when it came right down to it. There had been nothing compelling him. He could have helped in the fight. Why hadn’t he?
The answer came to him almost without thought. Because I wanted her to be safe.
Because he hadn’t wanted her to be retaken by the Savage Rangers. He had wanted her safe and protected.
Why did he care so much?
That was harder to answer. She was just a job, after all. Money was great, as far as it went, but it definitely wasn’t more important th
an the lives of his packmates. So, how could he justify putting her safety first?
They could defend themselves. She couldn’t. That’s all it was.
Maybe.
“Wait here,” he said when they reached the tent. “I’m going to look around before we move on.”
“Why do I have to stay here?” she asked.
The true answer was that he was going to look for blood and bodies, signs of injury and death, but he didn’t want to scare her. “I’m just going to see if I can get an idea of which way my pack went,” he said. “After the fight, I mean.”
“Well, I’ll help you,” she said.
“You’re not a tracker.”
Her eyes blazed. “You don’t know what I am. You just met me.”
“Okay, are you a tracker?”
“Well, I don’t know either! I’ve never tried to track anything. But I know two sets of eyes are better than one.” And before he could stop her, she had stomped off through the corn to the place where the fight had occurred.
There was a sort of clearing in the field. Cornstalks had been bent and trampled. There didn’t seem to be any other sign, though. Emmett sniffed the wind, trying to pick up a familiar scent.
“Here,” Hazel said.
He turned. She was kneeling beside the perimeter of the flattened area, bent low to the ground, and she pointed. He squatted beside her. “What?”
“Blood,” she said. “It’s soaked into the dirt, but you can see it’s a little discolored here, can’t you?”
He could, now that she’d pointed it out. He pressed his fingers to the dirt. It was damp. When he picked up his hand, the pads of his fingers were red. The blood was still wet.
But who had it belonged to? Was it the blood of one of his packmates? He sniffed, but there was no way to be sure.
He stood. “Come on,” he said. “We need to go find my bike. Assuming they didn’t take it, or trash it, or anything like that.” If they had, he and Hazel were going to have to continue on foot, a prospect he didn’t like. On a bike he was fast, and he’d have a chance at staying ahead of the Savage Rangers. The gasoline odor would help to obscure their scent, too.
