His head jiggled in a nod, but his hand had moved from the side of the door to his waist. "I want to live too."
"Then don't pull that stake out," she warned him.
His hand immediately jerked away from his side. "Ok."
"Give me a shirt," she demanded. "I'm covered in fucking blood now, and there's no way I can go home like this!"
"There's, uh... ok," he panted, tugging at his own.
She smiled, stepping back just enough to let him pull it off. When the guy offered it to her, his hands were trembling. Dahlia took it, then pulled it on over her dress. The guy didn't blink the whole time.
"How bad is my face?" she asked.
"It's, uh..." He was breathing too hard. "It's bad."
"Have a tissue in that truck?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah." Without thinking, he turned, opened the door, and grabbed one from the dispenser on the visor.
When he passed it to her, he finally realized how close he'd gotten to getting away. Dahlia smiled, then wiped at her face. "Did I miss any?"
"Your neck," he said.
She offered him the wad of tissues and tilted her head back. Timidly, the guy wiped at the side of her throat, then offered it back. His eyes were darting back and forth between hers, filled with complete terror.
"When your backup gets here, they're going to ask which way I went," she said. "I don't want to kill you, but I can't have you following me. What do you think we should do?"
"If I swear not to tell, you wouldn't believe me," he breathed.
"Yeah, I can't," she admitted. "So, how about a compromise?" Then she slammed the side of his head into the edge of the open door.
His temple hit the corner, his eyes rolled up, and Brice dropped. Dahlia caught him before his head could hit the concrete, and eased him down. Then she smoothed the hair back from his brow, made sure his pulse was stable, and left him like that. He'd be fine. He'd have a damned good excuse for why he let her get away, and he wasn't dead.
Then, she ran.
Chapter Eighteen
DAHLIA
She made it back to the hotel, but Mei wasn't there. She shouldn't be worried about that. Mei wasn't due back yet. Not that it helped much. The mere knowledge of inquisitors bearing down on them had Dahlia ready to jump out of her abused skin.
So she headed to the shower. The water that ran down the drain was more red than anything else. She scrubbed her hair three times, her face twice, and dug her fingers into her own shoulder to get the bullets out of that wound. She needed a moment to brace for the next, so a wad of toilet paper helped keep the bleeding from making more of a mess while she waited.
She was trying to figure out how to get the last bullet out when the front door opened. Dahlia froze, her eyes scanning the bathroom for a weapon, then the door closed. The sound of the chain being put in place let her breathe a sigh of relief.
"Dahl?" Mei called out.
"Please tell me you're ok?" she called back.
Mei's feet hurried toward her voice, then the little minx peeked her head into the bathroom. Her mouth was open like she'd been about to say something, but no words came out while she looked over Dahlia's battered body. It took only a breath for her to realize her lover needed help.
"What the fuck happened?" Mei asked, turning Dahlia so the wound was easy to reach.
"I was in the pub, making sure your 'date' arrived," she explained. "Went to the bathroom to freshen my face, and of all the people in the world, Thane followed me. Asshole was there on a date."
"I thought we liked Thane?" she asked.
"He's following me!" she hissed. "We've been in the Dallas area how long now? How many people have we seen twice? The fact that he was at the club that first night? Sure, we got caught. The second time we met him in a club? That's a coincidence. But him being at that pub too? He's tracking us somehow."