Page 34 of A Shot at Love
He grabbed Gemma’s upper arm. “Let’s go.”
She snapped it out of his hand and screeched, “Get your hands off of me!”
The sound of sirens was louder now, almost on top of them. They didn’t have much time.
“If we don’t leave right now we won’t be able to once the police get here. Now, come on.” He tried to tug her again.
“Gemma, go with him, please,” Jon said. His breathing sounded wet and harsh. “I’ll be fine. Go.”
“But—”
“Go.”
Her indecisiveness was costing them valuable time. Ky gripped her arm again and lifted her up, giving her no recourse.
She didn’t resist when he pulled her from the room, jogged them through the destroyed kitchen and out the back door.
He stopped, once, to listen. The sirens were blaring from the front of the property. Assessing their best route of escape, he tugged her hand and brought her through the backyard, around the garage and toward the parallel street.
Gemma stayed silent, one hand secured in his, the other wrapped around her camera strap.
“We have to get out of this neighborhood,” he told her. “Can you keep up with my pace?”
“Yes.”
He stole a quick glance at her, then nodded. It was apparent she was terrified. Her hand shaking beneath his proved it. But he could tell she was angry as well, and knew he was the cause.
Fine. He’d deal with her anger later. For now, he had to get her someplace she’d be safe.
Chapter Six
Gemma stood behind Ky, quiet and composed, while he paid for their room in cash. The motel manager, an e-cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth, brought to mind every seedy film noir character she’d ever seen. Balding, the tufts of his sparse comb-over greasy and wispy, he wore a drab sweater an eclipse of moths had eaten holes into, his baggy pants were held in place with a belt almost wrapped around him twice, and she could tell what he’d had for breakfast from the egg-colored crumbles stuck to the stubble on his jaw.
What kind of person greets paying guests looking like this?
And didn’t he think it unusual they had no luggage, no bags? He hadn’t even asked Ky for identification when he’d requested a room.
When the man opened his mouth and said, “Twenty bucks an hour,” the e-cigarette glowing as it bounced with his words, “a hundred for the night,” she knew why he hadn’t.
They weren’t exactly checking into a five-star hotel. She had no idea how much Ky paid him.
The manager handed over a worn key card, his eyes never wavering from the cash now secured between his fingers. Gemma bit back a swell of bile at the clutter of dirt under his fingernails.
With a firm hand placed at her back, Ky ushered her from the lobby without a word.
He kept them close to the outside wall while he brought them to the room, his gaze darting all around, never stopping, watchful, on edge.
The moment he secured the lock behind them, Gemma took her first full breath since fleeing the house. She leaned back against the faded wallpapered wall and swiped one hand down her face, the other still clutching the straps of her camera. She hadn’t let go of it once since running from the safe house.
Ky made a show of closing the blinds and the dingy curtains over them, then moving to the room’s small bathroom, checking behind the door, the shower, then the tiny closet.
When he looked convinced they were truly alone, he turned to her.
“Are you all right?”
She didn’t answer him, fearful the moment she opened her mouth she’d let loose all the pent-up anger, rage, and heart-stopping panic she’d been forced to curtail during their flight. She didn’t want to lose control. Not here, not now, and certainly not with him.
He crossed the small expanse of the room to stand in front of her. She wouldn’t look at his face, couldn’t allow him to see the weakness or the total fear she knew was swimming in her eyes.
Ky tipped his head to try and establish eye contact. In a feeble attempt to divert his attention, she said, “You have blood on your shoes.”
She should have realized he wouldn’t be distracted.
Gently, so gently the move made her want to weep, he lifted her chin with one finger.
“Look at me,” he told her, leaving his hand in place. It was as if he’d hypnotized her with the sound of his soft, warm voice. Gemma was unable to resist the command.
