Charlie’s smile was plastered on her face, but it very definitely did not reach her eyes.

Not that any of the guys here were looking at her eyes.

And she hadn’t slept more than two hours since she’d left after Wednesday night’s shift, afraid for her life. Including the twenty minutes she’d caught in the library parking lot before waking up in a panic and almost spilling her guts to Finn.

She hadn’t had contact with any of the VIPs in the back, or that police officer asking so many questions. They hadn’t returned either of the two nights since then, not even Rocco. But she’d been too terrified to sleep the night she had the room at the Cactus. Sleeping in her car the nights since hadn’t been restful at all.

Here at the club she could convince herself that it was all something she’d made up in her mind, that she’d made the entire situation more ominous than it really was.

But in her car in a dark parking lot after she’d left, on her own, terrified if she shut her eyes she’d wake up to someone determined to kill her, there was no way rest would come.

She had no idea how she was going to make it through her shift tonight. It was only ten thirty; she still had another five hours on her feet. Her head was pounding, and her stomach was queasy.

She would have to get a room at the Cactus again tonight. She had to sleep. A complete physical shutdown was not far off if she didn’t give herself a break soon. Not enough sleep, not enough food. Too much . . .everything bad.

She couldn’t even bear to think about Finn and whatever had happened between them in the library parking lot. All she knew was that she’d hurt him, again. Disappointed him, again. At this point he had to be used to it.

She’d wanted to tell him. All of it. Her parents. Her divorce. Her financial situation and jobs. Even Rocco’s people.

But the words wouldn’t come. She just couldn’t push them past her lips. And even if she could, how completely unfair was it to dump that all on him? They had no relationship. They weren’t even friends.

Still, she’d halfway expected him to argue when she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. But evidently, he’d finally decided it wasn’t worth the effort. She wasn’t worth the effort.

She slid a beer down to Jordan to give to a customer. Charlie pushed her thoughts of Finn away. She had enough to worry about just staying on her feet tonight. She would have to leave the broken-heart stuff for another day. God knew it would still be there.

Jordan took a few steps closer to Charlie. She didn’t blame the younger woman. The first couple weeks in this job in this outfit were nerve-racking. The wandering eyes and hands, the pace, the sheer volume. So far, Jordan had been handling it like a trooper.

Or maybe like someone who didn’t have any other option.

Jordan slid a mug under the beer tap, leaning close to Charlie so she wouldn’t have to yell. “Uh, I know you know more about my history than I do about yours because, well, because pretty much every mistake I’ve ever made has been literally broadcasted over the news.”

Charlie winced. The younger woman hadn’t had it easy. But where was she going with this? “Doesn’t matter here. All I care about is that you’re doing your job.”

“Right, okay. Well, you know I. . .I killed Zac Mackay’s wife and baby.”

Charlie put her hand on the other woman’s on the tap. “Yes. Knew that before you started working here.”

“I think Zac might possibly have forgiven me, but a lot of other people from Oak Creek haven’t.”

Charlie didn’t want to rush Jordan, but orders were starting to pile up. She gave the slender woman a gentle smile. “Why don’t we talk about this after our shift, so nobody has a panic attack from not getting their drinks immediately?”

Jordan nodded. “Sure. Sure. I don’t really want to talk about it actually. Just, if someone still pissed at me comes in here and makes a scene, I wanted to prepare you.”

“Something make you think that’s going to happen?”

Jordan grimaced. “Yeah. Maybe. Guy sitting in the back has been staring over here for the past twenty minutes, looking pretty pissed. I just realized it’s Zac’s best friend, Finn.”

Jordan continued, but Charlie couldn’t focus on what the woman was saying. All she could do was lock eyes with Finn from across the room.

Jordan served the beer she’d poured, then came back to Charlie. “I don’t think he’d hurt me or anything. I just wanted you to be aware that a storm was brewing.”

Oh, a storm was brewing all right.

“Finn’s anger isn’t directed at you.” She finally forced the words out. “He’s here for me.”

Someone sat down in the empty chair at the bar, blocking Finn from her view. But even not able to see him, she knew he was coming for her. That look on his handsome face meant she was not getting out of here without giving him answers.

So, she did what she’d never done before in her life: she ran.

She couldn’t see if Finn was walking toward the bar, but even if he wasn’t right at this moment, he would soon. She couldn’t face him. Not now. Not here. Not when she was so exhausted, and her breasts were all but completely visible.

She grabbed both Jordan and Heather and pulled them to the corner of the bar, out of Finn’s line of sight.

“I’ve got to go.”

Heather’s brows immediately gathered in concern. “Are you sick? You’ve been dragging all night.”

“Something like that.” She was. Maybe not the contagious kind, but her stomach was rolling like she might vomit at any moment. “I’m sorry. I hate to leave you guys in a lurch, but I can’t stay.”

“Go.” Heather put one hand on her shoulder while shushing a customer demanding a drink with the other. “God knows you’ve covered for me enough times. I’ll let Mack know you were sick and you’ll be back when you can.”

She felt like a coward, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t face Finn. She just nodded and walked toward the far end of the bar. Jordan caught up with her.

“I’ll stall Finn for as long as I can if he comes this way. When he does because I think we both know he’s going to.”

Charlie nodded, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder. “Thank you, Jordan.”

For one of the first times in her entire life, Charlie was glad she barely cleared five feet in height. She kept out of the line of sight of Finn’s table and made her way to the changing room in back. She grabbed her sweater and purse from her locker and slid out the employee door without saying another word to anyone.

She half expected Finn to be sitting against her car when she got there, but he wasn’t. She gave up all pretense of not hurrying, ran over, and unlocked it. She was pulling out of the parking lot when she glanced in her rearview mirror.

Finn was coming out the door.

She pressed down on the gas, which was the wrong move. The small squeal of her tires drew his attention. He made a dash for his Jeep. Heart racing, she tore out of the parking lot and immediately drove toward the on-ramp for Hwy 190, headed toward downtown Reddington City. She took the first exit, knowing there was no way he could follow without her noticing once they were on city streets.

She drove for thirty minutes before her heart stopped racing enough that she could loosen her death grip on the steering wheel. It was another thirty after that before she truly began to believe Finn hadn’t been able to follow her.

She began to berate herself. What had she done with this little car chase besides prolong the inevitable? He knew where she worked now. Knew where to find her. Time was on his side, not hers.

Now that the adrenaline was well and truly gone, her body was completely crashing. She rubbed her knuckles against the pain in her stomach—the peanut butter sandwich she’d eaten at five this afternoon had long since burned through her system. She was so tired now she literally couldn’t keep her eyes open.

She didn’t have the money budgeted for another night at the Cactus this week, but it couldn’t be helped. A shudder ran through her body, and she rubbed her aching head again. She had to rest somewhere she felt marginally safe. Give her body time to repair itself and her mind time to figure out how to deal with Finn.

She didn’t want to stay at the Cactus with their threadbare sheets, stained carpets, and hot water that never got past lukewarm. She didn’t want to have to carry all her stuff in from the car because there was only a fifty-fifty chance it wouldn’t get broken into.

She didn’t want to live like this.

Another shudder ran through her, and to her dismay she could feel tears trying to leak from the corners of her eyes. She swiped at them.

“Suck it up, Charlie. This is the way it is.”

She hadn’t cried. Not after her marriage or divorce. Not after she realized her family was broke. Not after the Kempsleys had kept her from the profession she loved.

She damn well wasn’t going to cry now over a dirty motel room.

But that wasn’t what was urging on her tears. It was Finn and the thought of him seeing her like this.

She rubbed her eyes and took a minute to massage her forehead, ignoring the ache there that was spreading through her body. She would go to the Cactus. Finn might be back at The Silver Palace tomorrow, but the seedy motel was the last place he’d look for her in the meantime.

She would be ready for him by then, her defenses in place.

She was feeling significantly worse by the time she made it back to the motel on the far eastern side of town, almost halfway between Reddington City and Oak Creek. She checked in at the front desk and paid in cash. The man in his fifties working it, perpetual cigarette hanging out of his mouth, had long since stopped propositioning her. She’d been coming here every week long enough for him to know she’d just shut him down.

“You okay?” the guy muttered as he handed over her change.

“Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged and looked back down at the television he’d set up behind the counter. “Just look a little sick. Don’t throw up on the carpet or it’ll cost you an extra deep cleaning fee.”

Nothing in this damn hotel had ever been deep cleaned, extra charge or not.

“I won’t.”

He slid the key card partway to her. “Room forty-nine.”

“Damn it, why in the back?” Not much about this place was safe, but the five rooms facing the alley were even worse.

“Don’t want your vomiting to be disturbing any other guests. Take it or leave it.”

She had to focus on his face to keep the world from spinning around her. Shit. She was getting sick. “Fine.”

He slid the key the rest of the way and she took it, breathing carefully in and out of her nose to keep herself steady. She was almost there. Five minutes and she could lock herself in her room and collapse on the bed.

She walked out to her car and, after a couple tries, managed to get the key in and started. Everything was spinning like she was drunk. She just had to get across the parking lot and around the other side of the building. Surely, she could do that.

She drove slowly and managed to park in a spot by her door. One of the overhead safety lamps was flickering and the other wasn’t working at all, but she got the room door open and dragged the cheap plastic chair over to hold it open.

She could carry everything inside in three trips. Just one foot in front of the other.

She wrestled her suitcase and bag of food from the car and slowly made her way back toward the door that seemed to be moving in and out in a dizzying pattern. She finally got to it, relieved to lay her cheek against its cool paint.

Until she felt a knife press against the side of her neck and someone grip her hair and yank it back.

“I hear you make good money. I think you’re going to need to give that to me.”