Page 6 of Paco
“Where’re you from?” There was no answer. He turned around and looked at her. She smiled weakly, pulled at the sheet, and shrugged. “You don’t know where you’re from?”
“I gotta get going. I didn’t mean to spend the night.” She threw off the sheet and, as if on cue, her phone rang. Fear etched her face as she stared at her phone on the nightstand. “I better answer this,” she mumbled as she grabbed the phone and headed to the bathroom.
Paco stuffed his dry clothes into his satchel, then slipped his boots on. Glancing at his watch, he figured he’d make it back to Alina in a little over two hours.
“You going?” Misty asked.
He whirled around and saw her propped against the wall, arms hugging her small frame. “Yeah. I paid for the room, so you got a few more hours until checkout. How’re you feeling?”
“Better. Thanks.” She fidgeted in placed. “Uh… didn’t you say you were gonna pay me?” He opened his wallet and counted out five hundred dollars, then tossed the money on the bed. With wide eyes, she shook her head. “That’s too much. He’s gonna know something’s up.”
“How much is normal for you?”
“A really good night, I can bring in five hundred bucks, but last night was raining, so about two hundred fifty. I already have a hundred, so one fifty’s good.”
Surprised at her honesty, he held her gaze. “Take the rest for tonight. You can spend another night here. You still sound sick.”
“I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. I can take care of myself.” She picked up the money, took what she needed, and threw the rest back on the blanket along with his T-shirt.
“Go ahead and keep the shirt.”
“I can’t.”
He shrugged and picked up the T-shirt and money except for two fifties. “You can pay your tab and have something just in case you don’t feel good tonight.”
Slowly she stretched out her arm and snatched the two bills. “You must be rich. What do you do?”
“I own a surplus store.” He picked up his leather jacket.
“What’s that?”
“I sell military surplus clothing and gear. I also have a large biker section for leather cuts, jackets, boots, and other things.”
“I never heard of a surplus store. Do you sell camouflage shorts and T-shirts for women?”
“No shorts, some tees.”
“Where’s your store at?”
“Alina. I gotta get going.” He bent over and picked up his satchel. A soft hand touched the top of his; he looked down and then at her.
“Thanks for everything. I mean it. I don’t meet people who don’t want something from me.” She leaned over and brushed her lips across his cheek.
Straightening up, he ran his fingers through her soft hair. “Take care.” He opened the door and left the room. As he walked to his Harley, he felt her eyes on him, but he didn’t look back. He had no reason to take one last look at her before he left. She wasn’t anything to him, just a girl who’d felt like shit and needed the night off. When he was hitchhiking around the country—after his return from Afghanistan—he’d depended on the kindness of strangers when he was broke. He’d now paid it forward by helping a stranger in need.
Swinging his leg over the seat, he switched on the engine and drove away, fighting the urge to see her one last time. Blending into traffic, he welcomed the rush of the cool air as he soared down the highway. As far as Paco was concerned, he couldn’t get back to the clubhouse fast enough.
