“You’re bailing, aren’t you?” The raspy, feminine voice filled the car, causing a mass of tar-like jealousy to fill my stomach.
“I had to head out of town for a while. Not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Don’t be gone too long; I’ll be big as a house and worthless,” she pouted.
Big as a house? Was she … pregnant? Oh, Jesus. Did Tamir have a pregnant girlfriend back in the city? Now I felt defeated and slimy, lusting after a man who was already taken.
“Somehow, I very much doubt that,” Tamir said with a smirk. “I’ll buzz you when I get back. Until then, try to stay out of trouble.” The line clicked dead. She’d hung up.
I glanced at Tamir out of the corner of my eye. “She sounds … lovely.”
“She’s something, that’s for sure. Her name is Maria. You may have seen me training with her before class most nights.”
I whipped around in my seat to face him. “That was her? The badass woman you’re always sparring with? You’re having a baby with her?”
He threw his head back and laughed deep from his flat, chiseled belly. “No,” he said when he finally calmed down. “She’s married to another man; it’s his baby she’s carrying. I’m just her trainer and longtime friend.”
Oh. Well, at least I could take homewrecker off my updated resume. That was good to hear. “She’s amazing to watch. I assume she’s been training for a long time?”
“I’ve been training her since she was fifteen, but she started five years before that.”
“You two must be really close.”
“Until recently, I didn’t think anyone would ever be close to Maria. Things change; we mature. Now, she’s married and finally settling down.”
“How old is she? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six, I believe.”
“The same age as me,” I murmured.
Tamir’s jaw flexed. Was that why he thought of me as a child? Because I was the same age as the woman he’d known for so long and still viewed as a little girl? He sure hadn’t been thinking of me that way in the parking lot a couple of hours earlier. Maybe that was why he hadn’t acted on the desire that he’d so clearly felt.
Whatever. That was on him. If he couldn’t see me as the adult I was, that was his problem, and it was probably for the best.
I crossed my arms and stared out the passenger window, no longer interested in conversation. As signs for Columbus came into view, I pulled up the address on my phone and acted as navigator. He followed my instructions for a bit, then pulled off into a Walmart parking lot before we got too far into the city.
“I have a few things with me but could still use some supplies.” He gestured to a duffel bag sitting on the floorboards of the back seat. “I assume you’re in the same boat?”
“You thought to pack a bag?” I gaped at him.
“You’re not the only one who likes to be prepared.” He raised an eyebrow poignantly at my own duffel I’d retrieved from the post office.
“Yeah, but I’m on the run for my life. What’s your excuse?”
“Special Forces, remember? That kind of training sticks with you. Now stop looking at me like I’m Jeffrey Dahmer and let’s get this over with. I hate these places.” He slipped from the car soundlessly, leaving me speechless, mouth agape, and mind blank.
At some point, I was going to have to set aside any expectations I had for this man and just roll with the punches, because everything he said and did surprised me. If I didn’t have any preconceived notions about how he should behave, maybe he wouldn’t seem quite so mysterious. Possibly. But it was equally as probable that intrigue was in his blood, and nothing I could do would diminish its mystifying effects.
Tamir insisted we stayed together once we were inside. The trust factor in our budding partnership was clearly lacking. I insisted on buying a few snacks to have on the road, then we both grabbed an assortment of toiletries and a change of clothes. Tamir picked up a package of boxer briefs, conjuring a mental image I couldn’t shake.
Once we were back in the car, we selected a Motel 6 not far from the address I’d been given, grabbed another round of takeout for dinner, then made our way to the motel. I was ready to get a room, shower, and call it a day.
The motel was your standard double-decker affair with a pockmarked parking lot and bad fluorescent lighting. However, for the one low price of only sixty dollars a night, we had a roof over our heads, a bed, and a moderately clean bathroom. That was the full extent of the amenities, but it was enough.
“I don’t suppose you’ll agree to separate rooms,” I commented to Tamir as we approached the front lobby.
“With your tendency to disappear in the night, not a chance.”
It was what I’d expected, although it didn’t make sense to me. Why did he care whether I disappeared? Most people would have been glad to be rid of me, wouldn’t they? Maybe it was just my old friend, paranoia, paying me a visit, but I felt it was odd that he’d gone so far to help me. Instead of being relieved to have company, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease at how invested Tamir had become in my plight.
“Two doubles, please,” I told the clerk.
“I’m down to a single king room.” The woman was somewhere between the ages of fifty and eighty—it was entirely too hard to narrow down any further. Her voice indicated she smoked at least a pack a day, and her leathery skin piled with caked-on makeup could indicate a young woman with a tanning addiction or an older woman, trying to reclaim her youth. Either was equally possible.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Afraid not. The Blue Jackets got a game tonight, and the rink is under a mile from here. You’re lucky there’s a room left at all. No one in a five-mile radius will have any vacancies.”
My eyes drifted shut, and I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. I debated going in search of another hotel with two beds, but what would that have said about my maturity? He already indicated he thought of me as a child, which shouldn’t matter, but it did. I wanted us on equal ground. Wanted to be an adult who would be unfazed by sharing a bed in a less than ideal situation with another adult. Besides, if he was going to do something awful to me, would it make a difference whether we were in one bed or two? Separate beds wouldn’t exactly be an obstacle to a rapist. Surely, there would be a sofa or chair one of us could sleep in, making my entire inner debate pointless.
“All right. One king bed, please, for two nights.”
She took a puff of her lipstick-stained cigarette and flashed a grin of preternaturally white teeth that likely glowed in the dark.
The good news was, there wasn’t carpet in the room. There was nothing more disgusting than motel mystery-stain carpet. The bad news? No sofa. Not even a chair, aside from the mall cafeteria-style two-seater table and metal chairs. There wasn’t even a dresser or a nightstand. The room was one step up from a prison cell—unwelcome roommate and all.
“I don’t suppose you’d agree to sleep on the floor,” I muttered as I claimed the side closest to the door.
“You couldn’t pay me enough.” The jerk was smirking.
“You getting some perverse sense of satisfaction out of this? You could sleep in the car, you know.”