I got up and splashed water on my face. They weren’t here for me. My future wasn’t coming to an end today.
With muffled voices still coming from next door, I shed the rest of my clothes, turned off the light, and climbed in between rough sheets.
My heart was still going a mile a minute as I stared up into the dark and wondered how I was going to live with this fear for the rest of my life.
Eventually the sounds from next door stopped, but I still hadn’t calmed myself enough to sleep. After turning on the bedside lamp, I located the bottle of rum in my suitcase. I’d bought it to celebrate finding a place to live, but I was going to need it tonight if I wanted any sleep.
The next morning, I counted the days since I’d been mugged and realized today was the day Luke had said it would be safe for me to wear a bra again—a good thing if I wanted to interview for a room to rent. Still, I carefully taped on the pieces of plastic wrap I’d brought from Luke’s to keep the wounds dry and added a shower cap before getting under the hot spray of the shower.
Luke had suggested dry shampoo for a few days until the glue on my head came off by itself.
After I dried off, I examined the cut on my side. It looked good, and after fastening my bra, it felt okay as well. My knee needed to be shielded behind long pants, but the scabs seemed solid enough to not need a fresh bandage today.
Brushing the cleaner out of my hair made me miss Luke’s fingers massaging my scalp. It had taken getting beaten to a pulp for me to finally meet a guy who made me feel special, just by washing my hair and taking gentle care of the cut on my head. And what did I do? I left him in my rearview mirror. I was such a loser.
After dressing, I checked the mirror. A reasonably presentable woman stared back—one I’d rent a room to if I were making the decision. Nice slacks and a conservative, button down top—all she lacked was a sufficient smile. That could be remedied when an interview started.
But first, an Egg McMuffin called to me from the McDonald’s I’d seen driving in. After sitting in the car for days on end, walking the three blocks to breakfast was a welcome chance to stretch my legs.
As I closed the door to my room behind me, I looked over to find the door of the unit next to mine mangled, and open to a torn-up room. The FBI had made a mess of the place, including holes in the walls. I looked away from the devastated room and left for my McMuffin rendezvous.
When I reached the restaurant, the sight of two Fort Worth police cars in the lot stopped me momentarily. The cops were seated at a booth by the window. One of them looked my way before returning to his meal.
I walked straight ahead, past my Egg McMuffin craving, keeping a fake smile on my face as I did. There was a Burger King in the next block, and I’d settle for my second choice for breakfast this morning.
The Burger King was thankfully cop-free, and I ate slowly, savoring each bite. I might have to settle for things like cold baked beans spooned out of a can soon if I didn’t rustle up a job mighty quick. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for sprinkling in a little Texas talk.
Walking back to my motel, I smiled as I passed under the Wendy’s sign with the red-haired girl. That smile fell off my face when I got to the motel parking lot and saw another of those distinctive black SUVs.
Passing by the office, I glanced in.
The two suited occupants of the government SUV were talking to the guy at the desk.
Only when the door to my unit closed behind me did my heart rate come down from the stratosphere. I powered up my laptop and began my rental search. I’d written down the first two numbers to call when there was a knock at my door. I jumped before I realized it had been a polite knock, not the FBI busting down the door.
I checked the peephole to find the motel manager who’d checked me in yesterday. His nametag read Tom.
“Ms. Armstrong,” he said when I opened the door. “It’s going to get mighty loud pretty soon when the guys arrive to repair the room next door. I can move you downstairs to a room that will be quieter.”
I wasn’t keen on taking the time to change rooms. “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes and out all day.” I’d seen the damage and heard the FBI, but played dumb anyway. “What happened?”
“Idiot robbed a bank and figured he’d leave Illinois and hide here in Texas. The dumbass didn’t realize bank robbery was a federal crime. Did I tell you I used to be a cop in Grapevine?”
I shook my head.
“Anyway, he should have robbed a liquor store. The FBI gets involved when a bank is hit, and those guys don’t mess around. I tell ya, the feds have resources little departments like mine could only dream of.” He nodded. “Did you know bank robbery has the highest closure rate of any crime in the country? Those Feebies don’t ever let ’em drop. Like a dog with a bone, I tell ya. Back in my department, if we couldn’t solve something in six or eight months, it went into a file cabinet and pretty much never saw the light of day again.”
I nodded and listened as he went on about his days with the police force.
“The dumbass.” He nodded to the adjacent unit. “Even used a gun and shot a customer. How stupid can you be? The Feebies put extra people on a case like that. I tell ya, the crooks are getting dumber every year.”
A few minutes later, two guys with toolbelts around their waists and construction logos on their caps came walking up. If it hadn’t been for them, I’d have gotten to listen to another hour of the manager rambling on.
I collapsed back onto the bed after closing the door.
Was I the dumbass now, trying to run from the FBI? Crossing state lines wouldn’t help one bit. I’d thought I was running from Dom, but he’d made it so I was running from the FBI, and now no place in the country was safe.
“They never give up,” the hotel manager had said. And they’d put extra people on a case like mine.
What a double-dumb shithead Dom was, and he’d trapped me in the same category by forcing me into that bank. Him and Mom.
She hadn’t stood up for me either. Thinking back, I couldn’t come up with any significant instances where she’d stood up for me since Dom had entered our lives. Sure, she disagreed often enough when he criticized my cooking. Big deal. Her letting Dom walk all over her had come to this. She’d let him trap us both in his hell. I didn’t recognize the woman anymore. She wasn’t the one who’d held me and comforted me when I’d lost my parents, the one who, along with Dad, had given me a family to be a part of.
I couldn’t even walk to breakfast without feeling nervous about cops nearby. How was I going to function in my new life if I turned tail every time a uniform came into view? I’d expected my new life would free me of the fear, but that was clearly a pipe dream.
Luke had told me I couldn’t run from my problems. Now I could see how right he was. I’d naively figured restarting my life in a different state would make it all right. I could see now that leaving town didn’t solve a thing. Dom still had me trapped.
I got off the bed and started packing. I might not be able to get totally out from under this, but I had to do the best I could. Like in the TV shows, the first criminal to turn on her accomplices got the best deal.
That Rylie FBI person on the phone when I’d called in had seemed to be on my side, but I couldn’t do this alone. The one person I wanted in my corner was the man who’d made me feel like I mattered, the man with the eagle tattoos, the man who didn’t back down. It was time to trust Luke with my secret and ask for his help.