Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(14)

“I can take you anywhere you want. I got nothing planned tonight, but going to bed.”

“That sounds good,” she decided. “Take me to the Dixie Motel.”

Pete nodded slowly, his lips pressed together, his eyes on her face.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I am very damn sure.” She was tired of walking. All she wanted to do was rest.

He looked startled for some reason, and said quickly, “Okay, sounds like a plan.”

Yanking the door open, Amaliya tossed her bag into the back seat and slid in. “I don't know why I bothered coming home.”

“Home is home,” Pete answered. “For better or for worse. It's where you came from.”

“And what you're trying to escape,” Amaliya added.

“Some of us. I like my home. Did you know I'm building out on the acre my Daddy gave me?”

“Really?”

“Yep. Three bedroom house and a big ol' porch,” Pete grinned. “I remember playing house when we were kids. You always said a three bedroom house was a rich person's house.”

“I shared a room with two brothers.” She laughed. “Having a canopy bed and a Barbie were rich folk stuff.”

Shifting gears, Pete pulled the rumbling Mustang back onto the road.

The scene at her Dad's house faded to the back of her mind. Her family didn't matter anymore; they didn't want her and she didn't want them. She was on her own now and she knew it. It was okay.

With the wind in her hair and the roar of the engine filling her ears, she felt safe again.

“Yeah, well, your Daddy is doing much better now. I'm sorry he doesn't help you out more. Or your brothers. I told Damon and Ray to give you a break. They don't know what all is going on with you and they don't have a right to hold you back from your education. I know it’s always been real important to you. It used to be all you talked about.”

“Well, it was a way of getting away from them,” she answered. She set her battered cowboy hat on her lap before it could blow away.

“Yeah, I know,” Pete said.

And he did know. She had run to him and told him she had caught her cousin and her Dad doing married folk stuff in the barn. It was Pete who told her not to tell anyone least her Momma in the hospital find out. And Amaliya could not hurt her mother with the truth as she lay dying. So she had kept silent.

“What about you? How are you doing since I left?”

“Got that job down at the refinery. Manager. My experience and those classes I took down at the community college paid off. That's why I'm building my house.”

“That's good! Real good!” Amaliya grinned at him with a flash of white teeth. To her surprise, he seemed a little dazzled by her and despite the dark, she could see him blush.

“I like the black hair,” he said after a moment of silence. “It looks good. I remember you had it like that when you got back from Austin.”

“Yeah, Dad threw a shitfit so I dyed it back to blond. But I figured I'm twenty-four and I can do what I like since I don't live under his roof.”

“Liking school?”

Turning her head away from him, she slightly nodded. “Yeah. I liked school, but it’s been rough lately.”

“Classes are a bitch. But I was never as smart as you. You were always making B's and I was barely getting D's.” He laughed his rich, wonderful laugh. “You always were smart.”

“Not smart enough at times,” she answered softly.

The Dixie Motel sign flickered into view up ahead. Its bright pink and blue lights stood out against the black relief of the trees towering over the road. The faux, German-style hotel was lit up with pale blue lights that blinked on and off as bugs buzzed around them. A large sign announced the $39.95 per night rate and Amaliya inwardly grimaced as she thought of her small cache of money.

“Pete, thanks for doing this,” she said. “For picking me up. You could have stayed back there drinking.”

“I'd rather stay here with you,” he answered with a shy smile. The car rumbled to a stop. He flipped off the headlights and turned off the car.

“I think you're a good person. And you got a raw deal. Besides, I kinda like your fiery Mexican streak that only comes out when you're pissed.”

She laughed and shook her head, her black hair falling around her face. “Sad that the only Spanish I know are swear words.”

When he touched her shoulder, she turned to look at him. His kindness touched her, as did his warm smile. She smiled back at him, and once more, he seemed stunned by her expression. He did grin back though.

“I'll go get us a room,” he said, and leaped out of the car.

“What?”

The door slammed shut just as she spoke. He jogged off toward the front office.

Blinking, she sat back in the bucket seat and furrowed her brow. “Oh, shit.” Reflecting back on their conversation, she realized he had misunderstood her. She had inadvertently picked up Pete. Covering her face with her hands, she let out a little laugh. “Oh, God.” Giggling, she ran a hand through her hair and looked out toward the office.

Pete's jolly little walk and wave made her laugh once more.

Considering how gawdawful this night had started and kept going, she was surprised to feel any levity at all. He made her feel real again. The nightmare at the college seemed like a dim memory. The showdown with her father was a fading bad taste in her mouth.