Trusting You (Second Chances #2)(64)
When he delved his tongue deeper, I bucked again and moaned, moving my body closer to the edge. Lifting my hands above my head, I gripped onto the headboard and slowly moved them over to the table. Daniel chuckled. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asked gruffly.
Swallowing hard, I took in a deep, shaky breath and nodded. “Yes,” I breathed. “I need more.”
He chuckled again and started to taste me more vigorously. Slowly, my hand grazed the lamp on the table and thankfully it was one that could be moved and wasn’t part of the table like you find in fancier hotels. Daniel was moaning and licking me greedily and I knew I only had a minute or so before I needed to make a move.
Gripping the lamp post, I counted to three. One…two…three.
Daniel looked up just as I heaved and bashed the lamp down on his head not only once, but twice. Blood spurt out of the opening in his head and I screamed and scrambled off the bed. He collapsed onto the mattress and then down to the floor, groaning, as I ran and grabbed my bag. The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, but I hastily opened my bag and felt around for a shirt and pants.
Blood was on my hands and legs, but I didn’t care. I picked the first thing I found and threw it on with no bra, and slid a pair of pants on with no underwear. I didn’t want to waste time putting on shoes so I grabbed the keys and took one last look at Daniel. Bursting into tears, I didn’t know if I’d killed him or not because he was bleeding and not moving. It could be a farce to see if I’d help him, but it wasn’t a chance I was willing to make.
With blood on my hands and tears streaming down my face, I opened the motel room door and was blinded by the sunlight of the day beyond. Quickly, I ran to the stairs and bumped into a couple that was walking up.
“Oh my goodness lady are you hurt?” the man asked, wide-eyed, staring at the blood on my hands and my disheveled appearance.
Gasping, I could barely get the words out when I answered, stuttering, “Call … call the police and get them here quickly.” My breath hitched and my throat tightened with my next words. “Tell them,” I began, choking on my words. “Tell them that Daniel O’Briene is here at this motel and that he’s hurt. Give them my name. It’s Melissa Ashford. I’m sure they’ll know who we are.”
As soon as I gave them the information I rushed down the steps and bolted for the car. The guy yelled something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. All I could hear was the pounding in my ears and my inner self telling me to run, to find a place safely away where I could call Brett and Mason and tell them where I was.
When I got in the car, I started it up and immediately stalled out when I tried to back it up. Angry with myself, I slammed my hands against the wheel. “Not now,” I screamed at myself. “Come on, you can do this.”
Cranking the car, I put it in reverse and backed out of the space. I took one last glance at the hotel room door where behind it Daniel was bleeding out. Trembling, I put the car into first and took off out of the parking lot.
Please don’t let him be dead.
Thirty-Five
The police chased by my car on the opposite side of the road and I knew I should go back if I had the protective custody of the police, but I needed to find a phone and call Brett as soon as possible. About two miles down the road I found a gas station with a pay phone. I pulled up in front of it and cursed when I realized I didn’t have any money. Or at least I didn’t think I did until I found my purse sitting behind the passenger seat.
Rummaging through it, I found some change in my wallet and quickly got out of the car. There weren’t that many people around, but the ones that were around stared at me curiously with my bloody hands, pink T-shirt, and pajama bottoms. My hands were shaking so bad that I couldn’t even put the money in the slot on the pay phone. I took a few deep breaths and it didn’t help. There was no way I would be able to dial his number correctly with the way my hands were trembling.
I stood there and cried until a woman about my age came up to me, cautiously. “Do you need help?” she asked calmly, her kind blue eyes searching over my body. “I’m a nurse, sweetie. My name is Abbey. Are you hurt anywhere? Do I need to call the police?” She glanced down at my hands and then back up to my face.
Shaking my head, I licked my dry lips and responded, “No, I’m not hurt. I need help to call my boyfriend and then the police. I have to let them know I’m okay.”
Abbey nodded and pulled out her phone. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“My name’s Melissa Ashford,” I said.
Abruptly, her gaze met mine and her eyes went wide. “Oh my God, you’re the one everyone’s been searching for. I thought you looked familiar. Your picture has been all over the news. They said you had been kidnapped by your ex-husband.”
“It’s true,” I whispered.
“Okay, if you don’t mind I’m going to call the police first, and then I’ll dial whoever you want after that. The authorities need to know you’re safe and to come for you.” I nodded and sat down on the hood of the car, hanging my head so I could cry. I wanted to hide because now there were so many people milling about and staring at me. I wanted to crawl back in the car and just pretend that none of what happened ever existed, that it was all just a bad dream. Abbey dialed 911 and told them where I was and that I was safe. When she got off the phone she came back to me.