Avenged (Altered #2)(47)

“I need to call Martins.” He turned off the car. “We can do that here, get some sleep, maybe. Figure out what to do.”

“I know.” She’d listened to his plan after all. “You’ve stolen some wallets.”

His mouth thinned, and he pulled them out of the pocket of his new jacket. “Yeah. One from a mom who was turned, yelling at her kids. Another lady, debating between yogurts.” He dropped them on the seat beside her. “Amazing how many women shop with the top of their bags open.”

He grimaced, hating what he’d done. She squeezed his arm, shrugged. “What else could we do?”

“Yeah.” He opened each of them, yanking out the cash. “Looks like about ninety bucks, total. Let’s hope that gets us a room for the night.” He didn’t touch the cards. Cards left trails.

“You think it’s safe? To stop?”

“I don’t know, but I think the sooner we contact Martins, the better.” He slipped outside. “You coming?”

“I’ll wait here while you get the room.” She didn’t have a good poker face. She was afraid she’d look guilty, give them away.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Leave the car on.” He closed the door gently, talking through the broken window. “Move into the driver’s seat. That way, if you need to get going fast, you can.”

She might have laughed at him if she didn’t know how ragged his nerves already were. She did as he asked. But she did sigh and roll her eyes.

“If you have to,” he said, “just leave me…”

She cut him off at that. “Nick. I’m fine. You’ll only be inside for a few minutes. Go.” She could manage by herself that long, for goodness sakes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He floundered between wanting to keep her close and worrying that she would be out in the open.

“I’m no good at lying. I should stay.” She smiled. “Seriously. You’ll be right back. I’m fine.”

“Right.” He nodded, still uncertain. He didn’t like how quiet and secluded the hotel was. Finally, he rapped his knuckles twice on the roof and jogged to the door. She watched him and admired the play of his rear end as he ran.

It was funny… Three weeks ago, she would have thought his behavior was bossiness and overbearing jerkiness. Now, she knew him. He fussed, he worried. He needed to watch over the people he cared about, and he feared that something he would do would result in her being harmed.

She found it pretty adorable.

Glancing around, she took in the motel. It wasn’t big and appeared to be in need of some TLC. The sign lit fully, so that was something. Smaller indications of shabbiness surrounded her. Weeds grew out of cracks in the asphalt. Some of the rooms showed signs of long-term tenants, with plastic chairs by the doors and different colored curtains. The parking spaces looked like a used car lot…from a decade ago.

To her, it felt like paradise.

They’d made it. They’d escaped.

Nick returned, and she couldn’t contain her joy. “We did it. We made it out.”

“Yes. That we did.” Nick’s jaw tightened. Their departure played through his mind. Her, holding Jeremy captive in his own head. Him, taking down a whole bunch of cars and a helicopter. He focused on the dangerous parts, not the end result. “Come on. Let’s go in.”

She followed him up the side stairs, silent, not sure what to say to soothe him.

The motel must’ve been really old because he pulled a key—not a key card—out of his pocket and let them into room 208.

The door swung open revealing a room with the basics: a queen bed, a dresser with an older television on it, a standing lamp. Nick flipped on the lamp and the raggedness of it was cast in stark light. None of these things had been purchased in this decade.

“Home sweet home.”

Kitty stepped in, looking closer. “It’s definitely nothing fancy.” She swiped her finger along the dresser and threw back the bedspread to find crisp sheets. Leaning over, she inhaled. Only freshness greeted her. “But it’s clean.”

“That’s something.”

Nick closed the door behind him and immediately picked up the phone. His movements were jerky.

He was off, but she couldn’t figure out why.

She listened as he maneuvered through the maze of connections to speak with someone at the Army. She retreated to the restroom to splash water on her face, and to give him some privacy.

In the bathroom, she turned the hot water on. As her fingers played in the stream, she sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt warm water on her skin.

In the other room, she listened to Nick’s conversation with Martins in his head. “Wyoming somewhere, I expect. Can you get us tonight?”

I need to clear you…Martins hedged. Nick’s frustration exploded.

“Bullshit, sir. You need to get us out of here. The longer we’re here, the more vulnerable we are.”

I realize that, son. Are you somewhere safe?

“I think so. But we don’t have a lot of time. Fields. The doctor? Goldstone cut him loose.”

We are aware.

Nothing else? Only we are aware? What kind of answer was that?