Page 17 of Wanted

“Wait, I forgot my pills…” I start for the nightstand where I’ve left the iron pills I’ve taken for years but he grabs my arm, stopping me.

“No.”

A chill runs down my spine. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. A beat later, shadows pass over the motel window. A second after that, the door handle jiggles as if someone’s testing to see if it’s unlocked.

My body starts to tremble and I suck in a breath readying to scream, but the man in my room, holding my hand, turns to me. His finger covers his lips in a move telling me to keep quiet.

I bite back the scream.

He leans into me. “Stay behind me,” he instructs in a tone that’s so serious and hard that I can’t imagine not listening. “Once I open the door, take your suitcase and run to the parking lot. My truck is black and parked in spot twenty-three.”

He pulls back just as the sounds at the door get louder. Whoever’s on the other side is trying to break in. He doesn’t move though.

It’s then I realize he’s waiting for me to answer.

I nod. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

I follow him closely to the door, my body practically attached to his. There’s more jiggling at the door. Whispers come fromthe other side as well, but the man in front of me is as still as a statue. He doesn’t move for long seconds. Long enough that I start to become restless.

It’s not until the door lock pops open and the knob turns all the way, allowing whoever’s on the other side to come in that he moves.

He’s lightning fast. So fast, that I can’t keep up as he yanks someone by the arm and does a movement that I can’t make out. What I can make out though, is a loud cracking sound followed by a male scream.

If I didn’t know any better, I would guess to say that he just broke one of my intruder’s bones.

“Now,” he turns and growls.

It takes my brain and body time to get on one accord. But I soon realize, that was his signal for me to run. The doorway is clear. I nearly trip trying to grab my suitcase and run at the same time.

My makeup bag falls from my hand but I manage to hold on to my suitcase as I run out of the door.

“Twenty-three, twenty-three,” I repeat like a mantra, to remember the parking lot number he said his truck was parked in.

A part of me wants to look back over my shoulder. To make sure none of those guys follow me. To see if the man who broke into my motel room first is behind me. Did he get hurt?

Somehow, though, I think stopping to turn around would anger him. He’d want me to keep running. So, I do.

I make my way down the motel stairs to the ground level and into the parking lot. With my suitcase glued to my side, underneath one arm, I scan the numbers painted in each of the parking lot spots.

“Twenty-one,” I say as I run past. “Twenty-two…” I come to a stop because the lot ends at twenty-two. My heart pounds in mychest. I swivel my head to the opposite side of the parking lot and my eyes land on a black pickup truck.

“Twenty-three,” I say, relief filling me as I read the lot number.

I start for the truck, but someone comes up behind me. “Get away,” I say, taking a wild swing with my suitcase.

“It’s me,” his deep baritone says. My rescuer holds up his arms in a surrendering fashion.

I push out a breath in relief. “Oh,” I gasp.

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t waste time as he grabs my hand and my suitcase, taking both of us to his truck.

He unlocks the truck and then tosses my suitcase into the back. Even in his hurried movements, he comes around to open the door for me, slamming the door only once I’m inside with my seat belt clamped around me.

Seconds later, he’s behind the wheel and we’re peeling out of the parking lot. I peer behind me, through the back window to see if there’s anyone following us. I squint and take note of the strangest thing.

There aren’t any people but shadows of what appear to be two or three dogs emerge in the darkness of the parking lot. Except, they’re large, huge even. I don’t remember seeing any dogs while I was out in the parking lot. I didn’t even hear any barking.

I turn to face front, noting that I must be seeing things. My mind is playing tricks on me.