“I’ll deal with that while you settle in.” The way he says it, there’s a finality to it that makes me shudder. How many lives have ended with him burying them in an unmarked grave? Is that what’s going to happen to me?
“I never wanted you to come into my world,” he says as he turns into the motel parking lot. “I tried to keep you out of it.”
“I’m in your world now,” I say as he kills the engine. “So thanks for that.”
He looks at me and there’s such pain in his eyes that I want to take it back. I’ve never seen a man looking so torn in my life. I want to hug him but I doubt he’s the kind of person that would allow that. I might end up in the trunk with Dwayne.
“Be honest with me,” I continue as we get out of the car. “That’s all I ask. Otherwise, I’m hitching a ride back to town and you can sort all this out by yourself.”
“You go back home, you’ll be dead within a day.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the man who sent Dwayne after us will keep sending people until he gets you.”
“What about Maisie? My roommate. Is she in danger?”
“I told you. The danger follows you. She’ll be fine.”
“How can you be so sure? Give me your phone, let me call her.”
“No phone. No calls. Don’t touch the phone in the room. Until this is over, you’re gone from the world, got it?” He pulls out a wad of banknotes from his wallet. Peeling off a few hundred dollar bills, he presses them into my hand. “Get us a couple of rooms. I’ll be back soon.”
He kisses my forehead. “You’ll be okay,” he says before getting back into the car. He drives out of the lot, leaving me alone in the darkness. I watch him go, still feeling the touch of his lips on my forehead.
As his taillights fade, my sense of safety goes with them. I get a sudden urge to lock myself somewhere safe. I rush up to the door of the motel and head inside, glad to be getting out of the dark, at least for a little while.
18
CHLOE
* * *
The motel reception’s got a guy behind it, slumped over a magazine, his head on his hand, his eyes shut. For a moment, I get the strangest feeling he’s dead but then he snorts, his eyes jerking open as his chin slips.
He’s got a squat face like he’s been whacked over the head with a bowling ball and never recovered. His skin is sickly orange in the light of the lamp on the counter beside him. He looks at me blearily, frowning as he does so. “Help you?” he asks, leaning back and stretching his spine with an audible pop.
The closer I get, the more stained I can see his tee-shirt is. Deerfest 96 is written across it. I’m guessing ‘96 was the last time it was washed.
“I’m looking for two single rooms,” I say as I reach him.
He peers over my shoulder, scratching the top of his head as he does so. “You bringing a friend?”
“He’s on his way.”
He turns to a book of figures, running his hand down to the bottom, talking without looking at me. “You get on well with this friend of yours?”
“What?”
“You good friends?” He raises his eyebrows before laughing, revealing a set of yellowed teeth.
“Sure, I’ve known him since I was a fetus and he came to visit me in my mom’s womb. I remember it well, he brought white cake.”
His frown deepens. “Sarcasm,” he says after a second. “Sharp tongue and no manners. You remind me of someone. I don’t care for sarcasm, myself.”
“And I don’t care for being interrogated like this. I’m tired and I’ve had a hell of a day. Have you got a couple of rooms or not?”
“That’s the point I’m trying to make. I’ve got one room left and it’s a double. Now if you and your friend get on well, if you know what I mean, then maybe a double works out pretty well for you.”