His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(99)
Author: Shayla Black

*   *   *

BAILEY stared out the window of the speeding SUV, watching the scenery slowly morph from rural to suburban. She really had no idea where Joaquin intended to take her. Did it matter?

Numbness dulled her senses, leaving behind only baffled disillusionment and shock. Why hadn’t she realized before now that Viktor had killed his own wife and two older children? Had the FBI known and simply chosen to cover up that fact? Bailey wondered what other terrible truths lurked out there for her to recall or stumble onto.

“You want some dinner first? Or do you just want to sleep?”

Before they’d visited her childhood home, she’d been starving. Now she didn’t think she could eat a bite.

“A shower.”

She wanted to feel clean—not like the girl who’d been sired by a dad crazy or desperate enough to kill his family. That kind of heartbreak usually kicked off the evening news or splashed across the front page of a newspaper. When she’d heard similar endings before, Bailey had always believed the family must have had problems all along. Why hadn’t someone seen the signs and found help? Why did people bury their heads in the sand instead? In her case, none of that was true—at least not to her recollection. And she ought to know. All she’d been doing today was resurrecting her long-lost memories. If there had been any strife or violence in her family prior, certainly she would have remembered that today.

“A shower. Sure. Let me put some gas in the car and find a place.”

After a brief stop at a filling station, Joaquin ran in to pay cash and peered at his phone. A few moments later, he emerged with a couple of bottles of water in hand. “There’s a decent place not far from here. You can clean up, then decide if you want food or sleep.”

“You’ll need something to eat,” she pointed out. Worrying about him was so much easier than thinking about her terrible day.

“I can take care of that later.” He reached for her hand. “Right now, I’m here for you to lean on. Whatever you need, okay?”

Bless him, he really had been her pillar today. He hadn’t left her side once. Even more, he’d seemed to understand that she couldn’t yet talk about what had happened. Bailey almost believed that when she needed an ear later, he’d still be there for her.

Welcome to delusion. Enjoy your stay!

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “You didn’t exactly sign up for my drama and—”

“You didn’t sign up for my abduction. Or for me to force you to acknowledge a whole new identity. Or take you to a BDSM club, introduce you to my sister, spank you . . .” He winced.

In spite of all the strain of the day, his self-deprecation made her smile. “Put that way, you sound like a real Prince Charming.”

“I know, right? What can I say?” He shrugged. “I take the notion of sweeping a girl off her feet literally.”

She sent him a faint smile. Joining in on his jokes felt far more comfortable than replaying the deaths of her family in her head over and over.

“Maybe you could try a little less hard next time?” she quipped.

“I’m usually a full-throttle guy, but I’ll see what I can do.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way to a budget chain hotel. Joaquin pulled into the parking lot and left to secure the room, keeping her hidden in the SUV. Bailey stayed behind the tinted windows, wishing she could close her eyes and make the horror of today disappear. Since returning to her childhood home, she’d had a nagging uneasiness she couldn’t shake. She stayed alert for anyone around her who looked suspicious.

A family emerged from a minivan, looking road weary. Mom herded the three kids and all their toys toward the entrance while Dad grabbed the luggage.

From inside the hotel, a couple emerged. The woman glanced around clandestinely, then turned to the man. He kissed her passionately. When they broke apart, she looked at her watch and fished into her purse for her keys. She wore a wedding ring. He didn’t. They headed toward separate cars. Bailey wondered if that woman’s husband had any idea that she had a lover or if he’d been ignoring the signs of problems at home.

Another man in a hoodie parked near the front of the hotel and hopped out of a silver sedan, hands shoved in the jacket’s front pockets. Was he the woman’s cuckolded husband? Bailey wondered, as he scanned the parking lot. His gaze fell on her for a long, frightening moment. His flat eyes looked dead. Bailey shivered. But he quickly looked away, as if still seeking something or someone. She blew out a sigh of relief.

From inside, Joaquin walked through the double doors and headed to his SUV. “We’re around back on the bottom floor. There’s also a two-lane road that ends at the interstate, just in case.”