Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) (6 page)

Riley ran a personal security firm now, one that he created to provide services specifically for the MMA Fighter crowd he and Shane already knew. Shane said he was talking to Manny about his staff and planned to go through the personnel files if Manny didn’t deck him for asking.

“Why would he look there?” I asked, confused.

Shane’s voice flooded the speakers of the tiny Toyota Corolla. “It might be someone close, since he was putting things in your locker room. It might not be, though. He could just be good at what he does. A friend of his is talking to a detective to see if anything sounds familiar. Stalkers tend to follow patterns.”

I didn’t know much about stalkers, other than from my own experience, and Morgan had forbidden me from Google-ing it. She said she’d already done it and it would do nothing but scare me. Newsflash, Morg: I was already scared.

Shane told us to be safe and to let him know what was going on and where we’d settled. I couldn’t help but wonder if telling him was safe for me. I just wanted Morgan to leave. I knew she’d dig her heels in, but damn it, I had to do this on my own.

Two things were certain: I hated to run but was running, and I needed to learn how to shoot a gun again. Daddy taught me how to use a shotgun years ago, but I needed something light that I could carry with me. Pepper spray would only get me so far, and I didn’t plan on getting that close.

Morgan drove the entire day, between rest areas and restaurants, and was hell bent on keeping me from getting behind the wheel. We passed through D.C., whose interstates had almost become a parking lot, and were finally driving into the Virginia countryside. It was beautiful with lush mountains, rivers, and rocks everywhere. Compared to the dry desert, this was Eden.

Cities became smaller and turned into towns, and towns into villages. When we passed an intricate wooden sign that read, “Welcome to Swift Rapids, Population 328,” I screamed. “Morg, this is it! Stop!” Sin maneuvered the car to the shoulder. Before she came to a full and complete stop, my ass was out of the vehicle—arms and legs included. Safety warnings were overrated.

Across the road was a wide, shallow river that was full of rocks and tiny, churning whitewater rapids. It was breathtaking. My fingers twitched with the need of a paintbrush.

Morgan was huffy when she climbed out of the car. “You should really wait for a car to stop before you leap out of it, you know.”

“Meh.”

“Seriously. I could have run you over!”

I flicked a deal-with-it look her way and then looked back at my rapids. She finally smiled and relaxed her resting bitch face. Even
she
couldn’t help but love the tranquility. Sighing, she turned to me and hooked her arm through mine. “The sun is setting and we need to find a place to crash.”

“Sounds good.”

If we had blinked, we would have missed downtown Swift Rapids. It was that small. There was a small resale shop with everything from clothes to lawnmowers, a Piggly Wiggly grocery store, and a small restaurant named Lyra’s, whose sign boasted the best peach cobbler in the county. Situated next to the restaurant was the only hotel we could find, the ‘Inn and Out’.

Morgan pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and shuddered. Sure, it wasn’t the Ritz, but it was pretty much the only option in these parts. Two floors and what looked like twelve rooms: six on the top floor and six on the bottom.

Grabbing my purse, I jumped out of the car before she could protest, but Morg was quick. The clerk was a middle-aged woman who looked like an older version of Flo from the Progressive Insurance commercials, and I swear the woman had more wrinkles than one of those hairless cats. They framed her eyes with lids sagging beneath layers of royal blue eye shadow and surrounded her caked-on, ruby red lips. Smacking her gum, she asked if we needed one room or two. Apparently they had a vacancy.

“One, please,” I answered with a smile. The woman turned to a peg board behind her that held keys—like actual keys on rings. “You’ll be in one-oh-three. And I’ll need a credit card to secure the room. We
will
charge an extra fifty dollars for any damage caused while you stay.” The woman’s eyes narrowed at the pair of us as if she were staring at hardened criminals.

You
did
have that little misdemeanor, remember?

Shut up, conscience. Everyone hates you.

Digging into my purse, I found my wallet and then my credit card. Morg’s eyes got all big and she screamed, “No! You can’t use it. Remember?” Her eyes begged me to remember, and through the fog of sleepiness, I remembered Shane saying something about not leaving a paper trail.

“I have cash. I’ll pre-pay, even the deposit. Then, if the room isn’t damaged, you can give the money back.”

Flo’s eyes narrowed. “Y’all aren’t into drugs, are you?”

Morgan stiffened, then planted her hands on her hips. Oh, hell. I spoke up quickly, “Nope. Credit card is maxed out. It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The woman sized us up but accepted my offering and the greenbacks that I slid across the counter to her. She counted every single bill twice and then slid the key back across the scratched linoleum counter. “
I’ll
be the one inspecting the room when you check out, and I’ll be watching you – so no funny business.”

I made what I hoped was the boy scout sign and then crossed my heart, grabbing Morgan and pulling her out of the small office. I ducked my head to avoid the hanging strips of fly tape, but Morgan’s hair got stuck in one. She shrieked like someone was killing her.

We grabbed our bags and headed toward one-oh-three. Flo used two fingers to part the plastic horizontal blinds and then motioned from her eyes back to us.
Yeah. Yeah. I get it, Flo.

Gritting my teeth, I mentally repeated over and over,
Do not flip her off. Do not flip her off
. Everything in me wanted to flip her the bird. She deserved it. But I was tired and didn’t have the energy for this crap.

Morgan plodded ahead, opened the door, and flipped on the light. But what I didn’t understand was why she was standing in the doorway with her mouth agape, looking like a fish out of water.

“What’s wrong?” I asked tentatively. If that fucker sent some freaky flowers or a note, I was going to go bat shit crazy. And I wasn’t sure how crazy “bat shit” even was. Cat shit? Now
that
had parasites in it that ate your brain or something. Cat shit crazy was
real
.

Her mouth curved into a smile. “You are not going to believe this.”

I stepped around her and pulled my rolling suitcase into the room before I looked up.

Shit on a pickle.

The carpet was so thick that it swallowed my black ballet flats. The walls and ceiling? All mirrors, I kid you not. And the icing on the
Austin Powers
-inspired cake? The bed. It was huge and round and had a machine attached to it.

Morgan giggled. “It takes quarters!” She dug into her purse for one and then we both flopped onto the bed while she fed the beast. With a roar and what smelled like the exhaust from a souped up truck, the thing came alive and shook us so hard that my teeth rattled against each other, my brain was turning to mush, and tears streamed down my face. Morg was in no better shape. She tried to suck in air but couldn’t as she lay there doubled over and laughing uncontrollably.

“You should get off of this thing, Morg. What if there’s a baby Shustice in there? He’ll get shaken baby syndrome in utero.”

That didn’t help. Scurrying toward the bathroom, she screamed, “I have to pee!”

The door shut behind her but she kept laughing. Then I heard her muffled voice say, “Just wait ‘til you see the amenities in here.”

Oh, hell.

“Happy Birthday!” Morgan said, waking me by feeding a quarter into the round beast we’d fought to stay on last night. Vibrating beds were the second worst beds in the world. The first were round beds. Did the creators of those monstrosities know that people weren’t round? That they were long and leggy and needed room to stretch out? Round beds sucked. I needed coffee. Copious amounts of coffee. An IV drip of coffee.

I was thirty.

Sigh.

Dragging my butt out of the bed, I circled around it, catching my reflection at every turn. My hair, now to mid-back, was a snarled mess. That bed was like a bird’s nest and I was a mussed up old bird. Definitely no longer a spring chicken.

“I know exactly what you need! You need to get ready and then we’ll grab some breakfast and explore around town today!”

“Tone down the chipmunk, Morg. Unless you bring me coffee, I might deck you.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Be right back, grumpy old lady.”

I tackled her onto the round-ass bed and smiled. “Call me that again, Sin.”

She smiled and stood up, straightening her blue sundress. “Nah. But I
will
be right back with something to tame the beast.”

“You better not be talking about quarters to feed that monstrosity of a bed, Sin!”

She giggled and pulled the door closed behind her.

The shower was orange. The tiles on the floor were orange. The toilet…yep. It was orange. EVERYTHING in the bathroom was orange, even the rugs and towels. Somehow, within that pumpkin, Cinderella emerged, feeling fresh and awake, and still every bit of twenty-nine.

***

Morgan was the best friend ever. She brought me coffee. And cream and sugar and food.
Real
food. Bacon and eggs and biscuits. She redeemed herself, despite awakening me so rudely on the birthday of all birthdays.

It took us all of five minutes to drive around town. Of course, we didn’t go down every side street or take in every neighborhood, but we did learn that Main Street was it and there wasn’t much to see there. Perfect.

Flyers flapped on phone poles, advertising the Strawberry Festival next weekend. I’d have to hit that up. Morgan? She needed to go. I’d just have to find a way to convince her, or ask Shane to do it for me. I knew she missed him something fierce and he missed her just as much. He’d bought a pre-paid phone and was using it to talk to her on her new one.

If I heard one more, “I miss you, baby,” I was going to vomit.

We stopped by Lyra’s for lunch. It was pretty much the only place to get something to eat besides a small pizza joint that I wasn’t sure was still in business and the deli at the Piggly Wiggly. Lunch was busy! Waitresses rushed to and fro, expertly depositing plates, refilling drinks, and sweetly chatting with their patrons. Sizzling echoed from the kitchen beyond and the smell of cooking meat made my mouth water. What I wouldn’t give for a burger. I had to watch what I was doing after today, though, or I might not fit into my costumes when I got back to Manny’s.

Morgan sipped her Diet Coke and watched the people around us with a fascination that I recognized. She would take photos for days if she could. I felt the same way when I felt the inspiration to pick up a paint brush.

Our waitress, whose name was Rose (thank you, Mr. Name Tag), came over to take our orders. After we each ordered burgers and fries, she winked. “We don’t sell steaks for dinner, but if you want a little bit of meat, you ladies should check this out. My sister owns a little hole in the wall bar down the road and tonight, they’re having a male review.”