all I can think of is lying down. I don’t even have the energy to pull back the covers. Good thing he does it for me.
Man, I hope he doesn’t expect gratitude sex right away. And if he does, I hope he’ll be content with me just lying there like a log, because I got nothing left.
“Here, at least take your jacket off first,” he says with a chuckle as I take the last shaky, unsupported step to the bed.
He helps me with it, and then with my shoes when I sit on the bed. And that’s it. I can’t stay upright any longer.
The bed shakes and bounces as he gets in beside me, but he stays on his side of the bed, makes no move to come any closer to me. That’s not right either. I already miss the feel of his strong, warm body in my arms. So I use the last of my wakefulness to scoot over to him, wrap my arm back around his waist where it actually belongs, and lay my head against his chest. I could sleep for a thousand years if he held me. And I think I just might.
Colt
I’ve never seen a woman that out of it. I’ve seen them blackout drunk or so high they couldn’t walk straight, but none of that compares to this spaced-out, head in the clouds, mind nowhere to be found state she was in. I’m glad she just went right to sleep, else I have no idea what I’d do with her. I’m glad she chose to go to sleep pressed close to me, and I can think of plenty of things I’d like to do to her if she was functioning, but this works for now.
She’s out cold, breathing so slowly and deeply, I’m sure she’ll be asleep for hours. This room is exactly like every other motel room I’ve been to. A box dominated by a king-sized bed, a small desk, and a table with three chairs. That bothers me. There should be four chairs, or two… three is just no kind of number for a set of chairs. What do they call that?
Every so often a car speeds by on the road we arrived here on, illuminating the room, showing me the weird pattern on the wallpaper… some kind of lines, but they’re ornate, like braids or some such. The light never lasts long enough for me to be sure.
Her head is heavy against my chest, and her hair is tickling my neck, but I don’t dare move. If I move, I’ll have to figure out what to do next, and I’m not ready to face that. I’m perfectly happy to make this might last just like this for a long, long time.
As it is, my heart starts pounding every time a car passes. The Sinners could be looking for me, for Brenda, and I have no idea if we’re far enough away that they won’t find us. Have no idea if the receptionist at this motel is someone who might give us away. Have to idea how I’ll get back to the Devils tomorrow. Have no idea what to do with Brenda. I just know I don’t really want to put her on the bus to Vegas. I want to get to know her first.
None of the cars passing are bikes. None of them stop at the motel. Pretty soon the quiet darkness and the silence filled only with Brenda’s even breaths start mellowing me out too. So I killed three Sinners ahead of schedule… well, two, and Brenda got the third. I was just doing the job we were gonna carry out eventually, anyway. Cross will see it my way. He’s gotta. I hope.
Brenda
A truck honks as it speeds by outside, and I’m sitting bolt upright, my heart racing, the bright light in the room blinding me. The room makes no sense at first, my fear even less.
Last night starts coming back to me in patches of memory, the sight of Crow’s dead, glowing eyes as he shows me the big knife he’s gonna cut me up with, Colt losing the fight with him, Mouse’s gun cold and heavy in my hand as I squeeze the trigger. Any one of those memories is nauseating, all of them together are enough to make me want to throw up.
Colt is sleeping soundly beside me. Neither the truck honking nor me thrashing around while I got my bearings woke him.
Good.
He’s still wearing all his