Page 7 of Redemption in the Dark (The Righteous 5)
“Sorry, no taking advantage of you tonight.”
“Heyy hootness. Hhhot, hoot, hoot,” Maeve rambled as she smacked his ass.
He sighed as he saw the sign of the motel. “Yes, what is it this time?”
“I’m gonna puke.”
He slid her off his shoulder and pointed her toward a decorative bush in front of a store. Her small body trembled against his as he held her steady while she retched. He hated puke, and yet he couldn’t walk away. He held her hair back from her face as she proceeded to throw up the entire bottle of tequila and food she’d just consumed.
“Uh, I don’t feel so good.” Maeve collapsed to her knees.
Wolf quickly scooped her up into his arms, and she gripped his shirt in her fist as she passed out cold. He couldn’t understand why this girl had a dead or alive order on her head. She mumbled with her face pressed against his chest, and he held her a little tighter. She didn’t move from that position the entire walk to the motel.
Getting the door open was not an easy feat, but once he did, he was hit with the smells of stale smoke and mold that permeated everything in the room. Laying Maeve down on the bed, he watched as she flopped into a completely relaxed state, unaware of her surroundings. It took some effort like trying to dress an uncooperative doll, but he finally got her shirt on over her head so she wasn’t laying there showing off her adorable purple bra to him for the rest of the night.
“What ghosts haunt your mind, Maeve?” He slid his finger across her forehead to move the piece of hair that was lying across her cheek. “I see the pa'ósovoto dancing in your mind.”
He laid his palm on her head and shook his head. He was way too invested in this mark. He wasn’t afforded the luxury to care about what she’d done or why they wanted her. It was his job to bring her in and nothing more.
A mark was a mark, was what he’d always said, and both of his bosses were hunting this one. An attachment wasn’t an option. Maeve would be turned over to the Marshal’s office in the morning and would face the consequences of her actions. It was bad enough that she was convicted of killing a detective, but her sentence was only going to get worse for breaking out before she even made it to prison.
The idea that she somehow seduced her way out of the transport vehicle suddenly popped into his mind. Wolf cocked his head to the side as he looked her up and down. Not that he was sexist, but he couldn’t picture her breaking out of custody and an armoured vehicle anymore than he could picture her committing the brutal and bloody murder she was convicted of doing. He’d always been sensitive to people’s personalities, and there was the exception to the rule, but he hadn’t been wrong yet when he’d analyzed someone. He sighed at the thought that she wouldn’t see the outside of the grey walls of a penitentiary for twenty years or more, which didn’t sit well in his stomach.
Pullingthe cuffs from the back of his belt, he clipped one end to her wrist and the other to the bed.
“I’m sorry, Maeve, it’s nothing personal. I have a job to do.” The words tasted sour even as he said them.
Shaking his head, he sat down and stretched out to rest a couple of hours, hoping that when he woke Maeve, and all her strange allure was no longer his issue.
The thrum in her brain was like an old friend as she slowly woke up. Her mouth felt heavy and slow like she had strong paste stuck in her mouth as she smacked her lips together. Her vision was as fuzzy as her brain, and she mentally berated herself for giving in to her urges. The only question left to answer was whose bed did she end up in?
“Ohhh man,” she groaned and tried to lay her arm over her eyes, but her wrist was stuck. She moved it again, and a loud clang sounded above her head. She tilted her head to look up at her arm, and a cocky grin crossed her face when she saw the cuffs. She didn’t remember getting lucky last night, but that wasn’t anything unusual.
“Morning. How did you sleep?”
Surprised, she turned her head and saw the tall drink of water in the chair. He was fully clothed and looked way too put together for the two of them to have just had sex. Plus, she still had all her clothes on. If that was the case, why the heck was she handcuffed to the bed?
“What’s going on,” she asked.
“I’m sorry, Maeve.”
How did he know her name, and why was he apologizing? She tried to remember what she’d said last night, but it was blank for most of it, and she cursed herself for getting so drunk. She smiled and gave her wrist another little pull like this was all a joke, but the smile slipped when he didn’t move.
The first thought that came to her was that he was a serial killer and that her luck had finally run out. Panic began to course through her body and her heart hammered as she stared into his eyes. They were too calm. Was it because he was picturing skinning her alive right now?
“Why are you apologizing, uhhh…” she asked, not sure she wanted the answer. “What’s your name again?”
“Wolf.”
“That’s right, like the animal. Wolf, why have you got me, umm—” She gave the cuffs a tug to explain the rest of her question.
He pulled up on the bottom of his sweater, showed off a fancy badge, and she swallowed the lump that formed and made her feel sick. Her panic tripled. Okay, a serial killer would’ve been the better option because taking her back to prison was a fate worse than death.
“I’m a U.S. Marshal, and we’re just waiting for our ride.”
The fear made her head swim, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to throw up.”
Wolf stood and grabbed the garbage can, and as he did, she noticed the clip of keys on his belt. It didn’t take much to pull off the ‘helpless girl that was violently ill’ act. She really had been about to throw up, but her senses sharpened as her eyes spotted the only escape route. As he bent over, she struck like a snake. Acting on instinct alone, she rolled onto her back and used her legs to wrap around his neck. With a hard thrust, she used his forward momentum to slam him into the wall.
