“It’s not the battery.” Grady frowned and shook his head. “This truck isn’t going to start. It did the same thing to me last week and it was a miracle that I got it back up and running then. I should’ve known I’d be pushing my luck to drive it all this way. I took my chances and I shouldn’t have done that. Not when I have you with me.”
Maren reached over and touched Grady’s arm. She had never before noticed that her fingertips felt like they’d been scorched when she touched him, but something was different now. There was a constant tremor just under the surface of her skin and every time it made contact with Grady’s, that electric current zipped up and down her body.
“Riggs is probably back in Riverburn by now. I could call us a tow truck, but by the time it got here, got everything hooked up, and we finally set out on the road, it would be practically sunrise.” He mulled over the available options.
Looking out the rain-streaked windshield, Maren’s eyes fastened on the lit up vacancy sign across the two-lane highway that buzzed like a lightning bug caught in a jar.
Grady tracked her gaze. “I think it might be our only option,” he said with a heavy sigh of resignation.
“It’s a fine one.”
“I can get us separate rooms,” he assured and Maren knew it was for the best, even though her quiet thoughts protested. Moments earlier, they’d been kissing until their lips were swollen, but Grady had put a halt to things before they progressed any further. He gave her a thoughtful look across the cab. “You ready to make a mad dash?”
“Yep. Let’s do it.”
Maren trailed Grady out of the vehicle through the driver’s side and although the rain had briefly subsided, the pavement was riddled with deep puddles that they had to navigate to keep their feet dry.
Grady’s hand never left the small of Maren’s back. When they’d trudged through the dark lot and up to a low berm along the edge of the road, he held onto a fistful of fabric from her shirt to hold her back while two white beams quickly approached and raced past, kicking a spray of water their direction.
“Okay, now we can go,” he said, nudging his chin. They rushed across the pitch black road.
The motel looked unsavory in the way most motels along barren highways did.
“This really isn’t any place for a woman like you,” Grady muttered to himself, like he was angry this was their only choice. They walked up to the building and he pulled on the handle of the lobby door, then waited for Maren to walk through first. He let out a sigh.
“It’s fine, Grady.”
“Just know I would never bring you to a motel like this if it wasn’t our absolute last option,” he spoke against her temple.
There was a young woman slouched low in a chair behind the front desk, a tabloid magazine covering her face like a sleep mask and her legs up on the counter, ankles crossed. When the door shut behind them, she bolted into awareness. The magazine fell to her lap.
“Need a room?” she mumbled as their only greeting.
“Two, actually.”
“Ah.” Her mouth smacked. “That’ll be a problem. We’ve just got the one. Rodeo crowds”
Maren could see Grady’s shoulders rise to his ears without dropping back down.
“That’ll be just fine,” Maren answered in his place.
He gave her a helpless stare.
“It’s fine,” she assured a final time. And when she guided her hand into his, those taut shoulders loosened.
“Just need a form of I.D.”
Grady released Maren’s hand to fish out his wallet and slid his driver’s license across the counter. After typing something into a computer that looked to be decades old, the woman flicked Grady’s card back to him. She moved to a small cupboard on the wall behind her and retrieved a key.
“Room eight. Down on your left. Hot water heater is on the fritz, so don’t call the desk complaining. Check out is at ten.”
“I kinda thought this was one of those rent-by-the-hour places,” he mumbled.
“Anything else?” The clerk’s aggressive eye contact served as a goodbye. She seemed eager to get back to her nap.
“No. Thank you. That’ll be it.”
Scooting out of the lobby, Maren followed Grady down the corridor toward their room. They passed one that had the television blaring so loudly Maren could feel the sound vibrate in her bones. Muffled murmurs and giggles filtered through another door as they walked by.
“This is us,” Grady said, halting at a green door with the number eight nailed above the peep hole. He fit the key in the lock and the door creaked open.
The room wasn’t as unpleasant as Maren had assumed it would be. The bed was neatly made with a red and blue plaid comforter tucked around the queen-sized mattress like a gift wrapped package. Wooden nightstands flanked either side. A tan corduroy couch was to their left and a glass coffee table with an ugly ceramic figurine of a buffalo finished off the minimal décor.
“Thank God for small miracles.” Grady exhaled.
“It’s almost…nice.” Maren took in the room. Then her eyes lifted to the ceiling and the enormous, hairy spider suspended directly overhead like a Halloween decoration. She bounded two feet toward him and leapt into Grady’s arms. “Kill it, Grady!” she screamed, her nails digging into the flesh of his neck as she climbed up his body. “Kill it!”
“You really haven’t changed,” he said as he slowly lowered her down and reached to slip off a boot. “I’ve seen you chase mountain lions off your property while on horseback with absolutely no fear, yet this little eight-legged guy makes you lose your mind. What is it with you and spiders, Mare?”
“They are terrifying.” She shuddered. “Look at his creepy, beady eyes sizing us up like he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.”
“I don’t think those are eyes. I think they’re babies.”
“Ahh!” Maren dove for the bed. Irrational tears pricked her eyes. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest.
Maren’s overreaction was met with a humoring laugh. With one precise slam of his boot onto the popcorn ceiling, Grady squished the offending bug. He moved to the bathroom, flicked on the fluorescent light, and flushed the toilet as the spider met his watery grave. “Adios, little guy.”
Grady returned and stood in the doorframe. Bending down, he pulled off his other boot. It was only then that Maren saw his face contort in a grimace that he quickly marshaled.
“Grady?”
His eyes clamped shut as a strained, slow breath hissed from his mouth.
“Grady, are you okay?” Maren rose from the bed and made her way toward the man clearly trying to temper his pain.
“Yeah.” He gave a tense smile. “Just pulled something out there today.”
Cautiously, Maren reached out to touch Grady’s side, and when he winced at the connection, she knew the brave face he wore took great effort to maintain. “Grady, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing. Bumps and bruises are part of the gig, Mare.”
Lifting the hem of his shirt, Maren gasped when she saw a deep purple blemish just above his hip. “Grady.”
He twisted to angle his gaze to where hers had landed.