Chapter Eleven – Red
I felt extremely drained. The quasi-heart attack Warren gave me by calling me my government name and the cryfest I had afterward stole almost all of my energy. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I was pissed at Warren for invading my privacy, but for the first time, I felt hope. I allowed myself the hope that I would be able to stop running. If I got a new identity, I could stay in one place and rebuild my business without fear of my husband tracking me down. I could live again.
“Okay,” I said shoulders slumped. “Let’s go.”
It was too early for me to climb back into bed and I didn’t know how to politely tell Warren I wanted to go back to my hotel.
I could tell he really cared, and as much as I didn’t want to be tied down, he liked having me around.
He handed me my helmet and we drove the short distance to the club.
Once in the clubhouse, Warren took me to a backroom where a white background was set up. We passed by several men, and I couldn’t help noticing how attractive all Warren’s brothers were. I thought bikers were dirty, grungy, and brutish but none of these men fit the description. They were more like underrated movie stars: tall, built, tatted, and begging for someone to ride their cocks. No wonder Warren was so damn cocky: he could back it up. I blushed in the dim lighting of the backroom, hoping no one noticed.
I sobered as a man with dark-blond hair and blue eyes addressed me. “You need to stand over there.” I realized his twin was the one who was typing information into small laptop.
One brother with brilliant green eyes took my picture, donned gloves, and took my fingerprints. Warren stood in the back of the room, silent as his brothers moved around me. They seemed in control and like this wasn’t their first time.
One guy with a bald head spoke up as the rest of the brothers wrapped up and left the room. “You’re going to have to wait a few days, but we’ll get this stuff to you.”
“Okay. Just let me know how much it costs. I’ll bring back what cash I have when I come to pay for my car,” I said explaining.
Warren, who’d previously watched in silence, dictating with his presence, stepped up, interrupting us. “No,” he shook his head. “It’s on me.”
I could tell from his face that arguing wasn’t an option. I sobered on his words and kept a good face as the other members were watching me and how we interacted. We needed to talk, but I also needed to rest.
Thankfully, he seemed to understand. “Come on, I’ll take you to your car.”
We walked in silence, and I could tell what Warren was thinking. If I hadn’t been so lost in my own thoughts, maybe I would have said something. But my car was fixed, which meant I should leave soon. I had to let Daniella know I would be leaving and I had to find a way to say goodbye to Warren.
Betsy looked the same, though the lack of crazy noises when I turned the key was a huge relief. I walked around the exterior, noting that not much had changed. She still had a dimple on the passenger side from the time a car got a little too close in a turning lane. A scrape on the front where I misjudged how much space I had before I ran into a brick wall. My key stuck a little as I unlocked the door. I didn’t have a fancy remote to unlock all the doors. I had to unlock the door by hand, though my windows were automated.
“Thanks,” I said with the door opened, though not yet sliding into the driver’s seat. “You didn’t have to do that, and at least let me give you something since you paid for everything.” I reached in the car for my purse.
“Red. No. I don’t want your money, and I won’t take it. So save your breath.”
“But—”
He held his hand up and I stopped. He stood before me, rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. I hated knowing I was probably the cause of all that stress. He seemed to be struggling with his words, unsure of himself, which was a first before he said, “Look, Red. I just want to say I’m sorry.”
I was still a little upset that he pried into my information, but I knew he meant well. He looked at me contrite. “I shouldn’t have gone through your things. I was really worried.”
I touched his chest and tried to show I wasn’t angry. I was more hurt than upset, but what could I expect? I was a strange woman who had visited his bed and home a few times. As suspicious as I was for the past three months, I could understand being overly cautious. “I understand. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“When can I see you again?” His change of subject and tone was too quick for me to follow and I almost forgot to have up my guard.
“Um. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Warren.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.” He was so difficult, and that was one of the things I loved about him. I tried to hide my smirk, but he saw it and pushed my chin up until we were looking in each other’s eyes. “When can I see you again, sweetheart?”
“Well,” I said, not enjoying the butterflies in my stomach. “I have to work tomorrow, but maybe after.”
“That’s cool with me. Just tell me the time.”
“Six.”
“Done. Where are you staying?”
“Springs Motel.”
“Room?”
“14.”
“I’ll be there.”
I smiled and nodded, stepping as close as I dared to his body. I hoped he’d grab me and slam me against him, but he didn’t. He sighed and kissed my forehead before helping me into my car and closed the door once I was inside. “See you soon, Red.” His voice was low and I wondered how hard it was to let me go. A part of me wanted him to pull me back into his arms. I had to stop being reckless.
“Good night, Warren.”
I drove off feeling somewhere between heaven and a rainstorm. I kept trying to remind myself not to get too hopeful. It was dangerous to believe I was safe and finally alone, but I couldn’t help but believe Warren when he said he would protect me. He looked like a man who kept his word. When I pulled up to the hotel, it wasn’t late, but I was exhausted. I quickly counted the money I stashed under the bed. It was one thousand dollars, the exact amount I left, and then I counted the money I’d hidden in a plastic bag under the toilet back. Fifteen hundred, also untouched.
I had three hundred in my purse and ordered a pizza for dinner. The wait wasn’t long, so I busied myself cleaning the bathtub because I’d earned a soak. The stress of the day and Bryant needed to come off. It was sad but true. With the tub clean of whatever residue and substances I couldn’t see, I ran the water and squirted some of my shower gel in it for bubbles. The tub filled just before someone knocked on my door. I tiptoed to the door and peeked out the peephole, double checking it was truly the pizza man before I opened the door.
“Pepperoni, bacon, and onion pizza? Thin crust.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said turning my back to get my purse.
“That’ll be 12.78 ma’am?”
I handed him a $20. “You want to make an extra $50 bucks?”
“Sure.” The skinny boy looked barely old enough to drive with whiskers of hair and pimples dotting his chin.
“Here’s a fifty. Are you over 21?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Get me some wine. Ask for help if you can’t find it, but I want a bottle of red wine. Anything that’s not in a box. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Great. Buy and bring me my receipt and change and you’ll get this other fifty bucks when you return.”
He took the bill and turned around. I sighed. How desperate was I that I had to outsource the pizza delivery boy to get me wine? I took a bite of the pizza and moaned. It was delicious, but it would taste better with wine. Thankfully, Willow Springs was small and the pizza boy knew where to go.
“Here’s your bottle,” he said, holding it outstretched like it was a bomb.
I looked it over. Barefoot. Good enough. I handed over the other fifty. “Thank you, doll. What’s your name?”
“Richard, ma’am.”
“Richard, I’m not old enough to be a ma’am and you just made my night. Have a good one.”
I closed the door without waiting for his response. After double checking that the deadbolt was turned, the doorknob was locked, and the chain was in place, I stripped, taking my box of pizza and wine with me into the bathroom.
It was some kind of sad that I was drinking straight from the bottle and eating an entire box of pizza alone, but it was my current state of life. I couldn’t change it, and I couldn’t take it back. I was hoping that it wouldn’t be like this forever, though.
After eating, I dragged my tired bones to bed, not bothering to dress in night clothes or pull back the covers before I fell asleep. I slept hard and without dreaming, thankfully because I often had nightmares. Though I never did when I was in Warren’s arms, and when I woke to my alarm, it was 7am the next day.
I went through my regular routine, not bothering to rush since I knew my car would start. Unlike most mornings when I gave myself an extra 30 minutes to hope, pray, and turn the key a few times. I smiled in the dirty mirror on the wall. I actually looked like I tried. My hair was still pulled back into my signature ponytail that meant business, but the ends were curled. My makeup was actual makeup instead of the ChapStick and mascara I deluded myself into thinking was enough, and I was professionally dressed without wrinkles as I walked out the door and saw the brand new day. There was nothing in front of me but the parking lot.
“Shit!”
Where was my fucking car?
I couldn’t report it to the police. That was the equivalent of putting a billboard up for Bryant that said, ‘Here I am. You found me.’
I glanced at my watch and realized I had to make a decision, and soon. I had too much work today for a wedding, and there was no getting around it. So, I dialed the one person I knew could help me.
“Please pick up. Please pick up,” I mumbled as the phone rang one time too many.
“Who is this?” a gruff voice said into the phone. I called the clubhouse because I didn’t actually have Warren’s number.
“Is Warren there? I really need to speak to him.”
“Who is this?”
“Tell him it’s Red.”
I heard the phone shift hands. “Red?”
“Warren. Someone stole my car. I need help.”
“Stay right there. I’m on the way,” he said, and the line went dead.