For four days they were on the road.

Rora was getting used to living life on the move, but it wasn’t any rooted attachment to the lifestyle that caused her to be unhappy when they finally stopped to make camp in a hotel room nicer than any she’d stayed in since this ordeal started.

Hugging her pillow with one arm, Rora held open the hotel room door for Junker. “I am so glad you like this plan,” Rora muttered when he passed her carrying two heavy backpacks full of supplies.

On the road, she’d had time to get to learn more about the man she’d only known through email until this. While she didn’t understand much when he talked about his work, she found it refreshing to hear the joy in his voice whenever his sister came up. Rora envied his fervor; she barely remembered what it was like to have a family, let alone to be proud of them.

Closing and locking the door, she examined the space. The room was spacious and cleaner than most of the motels she’d stayed in with either Junker or Strike, though she’d discovered that the former had a better appreciation for comfort.

After picking up Junker’s supplies, they’d set up in a motel to give him time to check his sources. The whole time he’d been connected to the internet, she’d been jumpy. Rora hadn’t been able to sit down and relax; she was up, poised, pacing, listening for every sound outside and wringing her hands.

As she’d expected, none of Junker’s contacts had a line on Exile. But they did have a rumor for him to follow up. Rumor, the internet seemed to be full of those.

Unfortunately for her, the rumor Junker wanted to follow up involved the Black Jewel, who, it turned out, was looking for Exile too. Junker thought nothing of telling Rora that the Black Jewel was easier to trace and to follow, like he’d forgotten what she’d just been through with the woman.

Junker had tried to insist that he wouldn’t let her be hurt, but his naivety and compassion had made her so uncomfortable that she’d stuttered some excuse about needing to soak in the tub to help her relax. The only reason she’d said it was to buy herself some time alone. The trouble was, she hated taking baths, hated it. From the minute she’d sat down in the water, she was bored. As much as she’d wanted an escape from Junker, she couldn’t find any escape from her thoughts. Damnit.

After killing some time in the tub, Rora had got out to have Junker declare that the Black Jewel was on the move and had an open-ended reservation that they had to chase down. Determined not to show Junker that she was reluctant to sneak up on the Black Jewel, Rora didn’t flinch. She’d told him to pack up and get the truck.

Since then, they’d been on the road, resolute that they’d get to this city before the Black Jewel, and they’d succeeded. They were here and Bella, was due to arrive tomorrow at a hotel a block over.

The Black Jewel’s reservation was flexible, suggesting she could be planning to stay in town for a while. They had no word on whether Exile was coming into town with the Black Jewel, or if Bella’s plan was simply to sit still and wait for Strike to come to her. Probably the latter.

Without knowing what to expect or how long they’d be stuck here, she and Junker had stopped to get supplies of anything they might need on the way. Given Junker’s understanding of comfort, and Rora’s willingness to spend Strike’s money, they’d spared no expense.

Finally, Rora had enough clothes that she could spend some time choosing an outfit. They had bought snacks and playing cards to keep them occupied, and Junker had a ton of tech that he planned to use to help them achieve their goal.

All they had to do now was settle into their hotel room and wait.

Since she’d left Bella’s dungeon, Rora’s neck had been stiff, something the various motel room pillows didn’t help soothe. After one of his solo shopping trips, Junker had surprised her with an orthopedic pillow. His generosity had overwhelmed her into silence. Sure, it made sense to have a pillow that would help her neck, but she hadn’t expected him to think of her comfort.

Tossing her special pillow to the bed, Rora thought about a shower.

“Do you want a bath?” Junker asked. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to setup.”

Telling him that taking baths relaxed her had been a mistake. Junker suggested it every time they stopped somewhere new. But, to cover for that first night’s lie, Rora had to maintain the pretense.

“Do you need help?” she asked, watching him lift both packs onto the end of the big bed.

There was a wall-mounted TV in this room above a nice oak dresser that had a matching coffee table in front of it and a couch and armchairs around it. Kicking off her shoes, she wiggled her toes in the pile of the carpet and delight coiled through her.

Junker must have noticed her smile because he stopped unpacking to smile back. “Happy?”

“This carpet is amazing,” she said and scanned the clean walls and crisp coving. “The drapes look heavy too.”

They were on the bottom floor, so their room opened onto a porch that faced the parking lot and then the street. Convenient for a quick getaway… another lesson she’d learned from Strike.

“Nicer than some of the dives we’ve been in, huh?”

Oh, he had no idea. Wandering around, Rora admired the picture on the wall and ran a finger along the dresser to find there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. Junker unpacked more tech, laying things out on the bed.

Rora went over and sat down to pick up something that looked like a tiny camera. “Where are you going to put this stuff?” she asked.

“Anywhere that will give us a view of the Black Jewel’s movements. I’ll go have a look around her hotel. This is why I was so determined to get here before her. I should be able to sneak into the hotel’s system and figure out which room is hers and where it is in the building. I’ll find outside locations to position the cameras to get footage of the inside of the room. Covering the lobby, the restaurants and bars is easy, but I won’t be able to get into her room. The cameras are discreet and can be switched to night vision. When she arrives, we’ll be able to see her… And if Exile shows up, we’ll see him too…”

Parting her lips, Rora was about to speak, but stopped herself to draw a breath between her teeth. Junker was still unpacking and she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

If Exile showed up, rather if Strike showed up, he wouldn’t be visible on camera. Well he would be visible, but his image would be distorted. That meant if Bella was close enough to him, her image would be distorted too.

Her stomach churned. If Strike showed up for Bella, which Rora guessed he would at some point, she might have to watch footage of them… together. Whether his image was distorted or not, Rora really didn’t want to watch that. If he was naked, he couldn’t be carrying the tech that messed up his image and voice on recordings, meaning they’d see every detail.

“You ok? You look a little pale?” Junker asked. She swallowed her nausea, sure her expression was queasy. “I thought you were starting to feel better.”

She was getting over the trauma of her imprisonment. Her appetite was back, but she wasn’t sleeping great. The same nightmare kept waking her up, night after night. No matter how many times she fell asleep, whether it was in the truck or at night in a motel room, she had the same nightmare every time. 

“I’m going to get in the tub.”

Having a bath might not be her idea of great fun, but it gave her space and she appreciated the time away from Junker. If she wasn’t in the room with him, she didn’t have to lie to him, something she was appreciating less and less. Rora had embraced her new friendship with Junker and was beginning to believe that he was a good person.

But that was a bad thing. Bella and Strike were not good people and they would eat Junker for breakfast. He’d be blindsided by their laughter if he started to talk about morals and righteousness.

Rora feared for her new friend’s safety. Junker had honor and would hesitate before taking someone’s head off. Strike wouldn’t.

Before she got to the bathroom, she spun around. “Junk,” she said. He looked over his shoulder. “Exile shot Jewel once.” His brow came down. “He was… trying to get out of a dangerous situation and Jewel was being unreasonable… So, he shot her shoulder.”

“Harsh,” he said, taking his focus from his tools to face her. “Do you think that she’s looking for payback? If he’s smart, he won’t show… You didn’t tell me this before. It might’ve changed our decision to go this route.”

“I think he’ll show,” she said.

“I wouldn’t show up to see the woman I shot… Do you think she wants to kill him or that he’s coming to finish the job? Do you think he’d win?”

“Don’t bet on it, Jewel usually travels with a posse,” she said. But Junker had been in Bella’s house, if he’d done any kind of recon he’d know that the beauty had men to do her dirty work for her.

“How can you be sure?” he asked, his attention becoming keen.

“Two reasons. The first is she needs him to finish Benjamin’s work. Exile’s the only one who can optimize its potential.”

“And? What’s the second reason?”

This one was harder to say. “She’s in love with him.”

The surprise that struck him widened his eyes. “They’re a couple?”

“Were… I don’t know about now. I think they hook up when they get together. The violence, the hatred, it’s all foreplay to them.”

Squeezing his lips together, he seemed to be thinking about how this changed things. “We know they’re dangerous. But you think she’ll probably forgive him for shooting her since the wound clearly wasn’t fatal.”

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been. Rora had never thought she could be the type of person to wish another dead, but if Strike had executed the Black Jewel in Wonderland, she’d have been saved from so much pain.

Junker took a step toward her. “Punish him, how?”

That was something Rora didn’t want to imagine. As gruesome as it might be, it would also be intensely intimate for the couple. “I don’t know, but it will probably be sexual… and violent.”

As Rora’s mind started to drift again, Junker’s just seemed to be perplexed. “He’s stronger than her, but he’d tolerate violence?”

Violence was a stable in Strike’s life. “If Exile wants her… he’ll let her do whatever she wants to him.”

“Why?”

Resisting the urge to sigh, Rora knew it was impossible for someone as pure as Junker to understand. “Because it’s what Exile believes he deserves, and he can take it,” she said. “He can take the hits, the whip, the hatred; he gets off on it because it makes him hate her. He wants to hate her. Because as long as he hates her, he’ll never love her… Except he does love her.”

Junker stopped in front of her, wide stance, arms folded, and a frown on his face. “You’re not making much sense, Aurora.”

No, and she was starting to feel that churn of frustrated emotion. “He won’t admit to himself that he needs any human connection.”

His chin rose, and he peered down his nose. “Aurora,” he said. “Did something—”

“I’m going to get in the tub,” she said and spun to head for the bathroom.

Every time she edged into a conversation with Junker that hinted she might be ready to drop her guard, she made an excuse and ran away before it could go too far.

Rora wanted to trust him, she wanted to relax and let him in, but it was becoming more obvious with each passing day that it was unlikely she’d ever trust anyone again.

Nice as it would be to have someone to lean on who she could reveal any truth to and know they’d stick around to support her, she’d learned a hard truth with Strike. She’d thought her ex could be that person. He was unlike any other man she’d ever known. Rora had been willing to accept him, to stand with him through anything. It was just a shame he hadn’t been interested in reciprocating.

While the water filled the tub, she stripped off and slapped her hands down on the vanity to lean in and glare at her reflection. “Stop thinking about him,” she growled at herself. “Stop it.”

Squeezing her eyes closed, she let her head drop. Her neck screamed in protest, but the physical pain was more welcome than the heartache and sorrow.

Drawing in a breath, she lifted her chin to look in the mirror again. Strike’s reflection behind hers startled her. Gasping, she spun around, falling back against the vanity, but… he wasn’t there. She was alone.

Rubbing her face, Rora wanted to slap herself. He wasn’t here, of course he wasn’t; there was no window in the room, and the door hadn’t opened.  He was in her head, all in her head, just like their love had been.

There were times in the past when she’d been sure she was losing her mind. But it hadn’t been as potent as this. Her grip on reality was loosening and she didn’t know what would happen when she finally gave up and let go.