Just before the truck reached the exit to the street, Rick stopped. “Seatbelt, please,” he said, his voice infuriatingly calm.
Laura began strapping herself in. “Really?”
“No looking back once we’re on the street. Act like nothing’s wrong,” he replied. Then he pulled the car out on to the road, driving slowly, as if they weren’t being chased by gun toting thugs.
Laura fought to keep from twisting around in her seat to look behind them. She made do with looking in the rearview mirror. Just as she looked, a police car turned the corner in front of them, lights on and sirens blaring. It roared up to the entrance to her buildings parking and stopped, blocking anyone from exiting.
Rick still drove calmly, looking for all the world like a man out for a casual Sunday jaunt. He turned right at the first street they came to. He glanced over at her, his usual jovial expression no longer present. Instead, his face radiated concern. “I’m so sorry Laura. I wish I had suggested dropping everything and leaving as soon as you told me about Craig’s problems. This is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, Rick. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have been here to see him ---” She couldn’t finish the sentence, emotions boiling up inside her that threatened to break through the calm demeanor she was just barely holding onto.
He seemed to sense that this wasn’t the time to try to talk things through, and he was right. Her emotions were running riot through her, fading adrenaline combining with grief and anger to create a turbulent mix. One second she felt like crying her eyes out, and the next she was filled with a rage unlike anything she had ever experienced.
And yet through it all, her mind kept returning to the surprised look on the face of the man she had shot. The way he had glanced down at his chest, as if he couldn’t believe that he could be hurt.
Laura found herself lost in her own thoughts. Maybe everyone has a similar sort of feeling, that all the people we see and meet consider themselves to be the protagonist, and nothing bad ever happens to the protagonist. She realized that deep down she was the same, that she hadn’t believed that Craig could really be hurt or killed. Other people could be hurt by loan sharks, other people could be killed, but in their world everything was safe. The police protected people from predators and the good guys always found their way out of trouble.
The death of her parents had been so long ago that the comfortable bubble of invincibility had grown back. But now it had been shattered again, and Laura had no idea how she could fit any of the pieces back together.
Rick looked over at her finally. “Do you want me to take you to the police station? Somebody needs to tell them what happened at your apartment.”
Laura shook her head, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “No, I can’t talk about this to anyone right now,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. “I can’t spend hours locked in a room talking about…” The near mention of Craig’s name forced the tears from her, and she broke into sobs.
“Alright,” Rick said, taking one hand off the wheel and resting it on her knee. “I’ll find us somewhere to stay.”
Time passed with Laura only vaguely aware of where they were. The traffic stopped and started for a while, then she noticed they were on the bridge crossing to New Jersey. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to see, not wanting to be reminded of when she’d first come to New York. She had been so young, so hopeful about the future. It seemed like a million years ago.
Rick drove them over the bridge and out of New York. He headed straight for the highway back west, wanting to find one of the cheap hotels that dotted it.
He looked at Laura while they were on the bridge. Her light blue shirt was stained with Craig’s blood, and her hands were similarly covered. He pulled out a package of wet naps from the glove box and handed them to her.
When she first looked at them she seemed confused, as if she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with them. He gestured to her arms. “Clean yourself up, Laura. Won’t do us any good for anyone to see you like that.”
She nodded slightly and began use the wet naps to clean off her hands and arms. She moved mechanically, as if her mind wasn’t fully engaged in the task. Rick supposed that was natural, all things considered.
He was worried about Laura. More than worried. From what she had told him yesterday, he knew that Craig was some of the only family she’d had left. He knew what it was like to feel alone in the world.
Add that to the fact that she had just killed a man. Rick had seen the wound before the man had collapsed, and it would almost certainly be fatal. How could she possibly deal with all this at the same time?
There was nothing he could do but put one foot in front of the other, as much as it hurt him to admit it. For now he would find them a place to rest. After that, well he would deal with that when it came time to.
After fifteen minutes on the highway he finally saw a place to stop. It was a small, fairly rundown looking motel, but it was something. It was a simple building, an office in the front with doors to the individual rooms all along the front and back sides.
He pulled in and parked the truck around back. He didn’t think anyone would be looking for them, or that anyone would know where to look, but there was no point taking chances.
Laura didn’t seem to notice when he turned off the truck, lost in her own thoughts as she was. He took her hand in his, and spoke softly. “Wait here for just a minute, okay? I’ll get us a room.”
She nodded her agreement, but otherwise didn’t move or look at him. Rick gave her hand one last squeeze, then hopped out and walked around to the front entrance.
There was an older, bored looking lady sitting behind the counter reading a magazine. She looked up as he approached, smiling widely as she saw him. “Well aren’t you somethin’,” she murmured, looking him up and down with more than business in her eyes.
He smiled back at her. Rick had grown accustomed to drawing attention, and was fairly comfortable with it. Better to learn to enjoy something you can’t change, he’d always thought.
“Good evening,” he said politely. “I’d like a room for the night please.”
“Just you, hun?” she asked, checking a ledger in front of her.
“No, me and a friend. We’ll need two beds, and I’d prefer one of the rooms around back if there’s one available.” He put both forearms on the counter and leaned forward a bit, flashing what he thought of as his most winning smile.
“A friend, you said? That’s too bad,” the woman said. She had a knowing twinkle to her eyes that would have made Rick laugh out loud at any other time. “Room 115, back side with two double beds. That sound alright?”
Rick nodded, taking out his wallet. “Sounds perfect.”
Rick paid in cash and got the room key, then gave the woman one more smile and went back out the front door. He walked around to the truck and went to the passenger side, opening the door and helping Laura out.
He grabbed her bag and led her to their room. It was exactly what he had expected, faded wallpaper and worn blankets, but it smelled clean. Well, clean enough.
He tossed her bag on the bed furthest from the door, then turned and faced Laura. Her face was a portrait of sadness, but at least she looked up and met his eyes. He pulled her to his chest and hugged her, wrapping her in his big arms.
He had failed her already. When Laura had told him about Craig’s problem, he had assumed that the worst Craig could expect was a rough beating, maybe a broken arm. He had completely underestimated the level of criminals Craig had been dealing with, and because of that Laura had lost her brother. How could he ever look her in the eyes again?
As if she could sense where his thoughts were going, Laura pushed back from him a few inches and looked up at him. “None of this is your fault Rick. You helped me as much as you could, and if you hadn’t been around last night I could have gotten hurt or worse. Thank you.”
He accepted her sentiment, even if part of him didn’t agree
with it. There was more he could have done. Still, she needed him to be strong now, so that’s what he would be. In his mind, however, he was rolling around all the things he would like to do to the men who had killed Craig. Most of all to the man who had caused it to happen. One of the men he had fought the night before had talked about working for someone. Whoever it was, one day he would make him pay.
He reached up a hand and stroked Laura’s smooth face, then pulled her head toward his chest and kissed her forehead. “You should take a shower and get changed,” he said softly.
She nodded, glancing down at herself. “Okay,” she replied. She walked over to the bed and grabbed her bag, then headed into the bathroom.
Rick went to the bed closest to the door and laid down. It had been a long day, and with his body still healing he felt exhausted. He listened as Laura stripped down and got in the shower. He soon heard her crying again, softly. A human would have never heard it over the sound of the running water, but Rick wasn’t human.
He briefly thought about going in to comfort her, but quickly discarded the idea. It would uncomfortable at best for her, so he just sat there and listened, knowing there was nothing he could do. The crying stopped after a few moments.
Chapter 10
Laura dried herself off, mind unfocused. She hadn’t been able to keep from crying while in the shower, but at least Rick hadn’t heard. He had done so much for her over the last couple of days that she didn’t want her grief to be a burden to him as well.
She dressed herself in jeans and a tee from her duffel bag, after which she spent a few minutes drying and combing her hair. It felt good to do something that didn’t require any thought, as if she could partially avoid a tragedy by busying herself.
The pain and grief at Craig’s death had mostly faded to a dull ache at this point. Maybe there was only so much heartbreak someone could take before their body shuts it down. All she wanted now was to go to bed. She felt exhausted from the torrent of feelings that had been pouring through her.
As she walked out of the bathroom, Rick was turning on the TV. He was sitting on the bed where the pillows would usually be, back pressed against the wall. He looked up at her as she came into the room, his eyes searching her for some sign of how well she was holding up.
“You look tired,” he said. “Come lay down.” He gestured to the bed next to his. Always a gentleman, Rick was.
She smiled wanly at him and collapsed on the bed as he began flicking through the channels on the TV. The sound of it bothered her a bit, and she was about to ask him to turn it off when she realized what he was doing. He was pausing at each news station, looking for any stories about Craig’s death.
She sat up on the bed. She wanted to know that those assholes that had been chasing them had been caught and charged with Craig’s murder, that they were being punished.
Then she saw her photo in the corner of the screen on what looked like every nightly news show she had ever watched. “... are looking for a Laura Hamilton in connection with the murder of her brother and one of his friends in her apartment.” The anchorwoman was giving the story in the cool and professional tone that you expect to hear on a newscast, which made what she was saying all the more jarring. “Police say they found her fingerprints on the weapon that was used to murder her brother, Craig Hamilton, and that he was killed some time today. According to neighbors, one of Mr. Hamilton’s friends confronted Ms. Hamilton this afternoon when she shot him in the chest. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Witnesses say the suspect fled the scene immediately after the shooting with a large Caucasian male wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. Police are asking for anyone who has any information in regards to Laura Hamilton’s whereabouts to come forward.”
Laura sat there, her mind refusing to accept what she had just heard. They thought she had killed Craig? That the man she had shot was his friend? It didn’t make any sense.
Her mind drifted back to when Craig had passed. Her memories were fuzzy, as if the intense emotion of the experience had washed away some of the details. She remembered kneeling over his body, holding him.
Then it hit her. She had picked up the knife. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been, but the idea that she could be accused of his murder hadn’t even crossed her mind.
“It’ll be alright Laura, nobody will believe that you really killed your brother,” Rick said. “We can turn ourselves in tomorrow and get this straightened out then.”
But Laura’s mind was working overtime now, and her stomach sank with each new thought. How had the police not caught the two men who had been chasing them? And they should have found the large silver gun next to the man she had shot, which would have at least called into question the account they had been given.
And who had told the police that the man she had shot was Craig’s friend? None of this was making sense to her right now. Just then her focus was brought back to the television, to a shot where a reporter was interviewing a well-dressed man on the street.
“… really is terrible what happened,” the man said. He had short salt and pepper hair, and was wearing an expensive looking silver suit. “Mr. Hamilton was a regular customer at some of my bars, and he was well liked by all of my staff.”
“Is it true that the second victim at the scene was one of your employees, Mr. Vascenti?”
“Yes, he was,” the man replied. “Mr. Simon was a fantastic worker, and had been friends with Mr. Hamilton for some time I believe. Some of my other staff have told me that Mr. Hamilton had mentioned that his sister had been dealing with some significant mental health issues lately, but no one thought that anything like this could happen. It’s a tragedy what happened today.”
The screen switched back to the news desk. “That was Dominic Vascenti, a local business owner and philanthropist here in New York. Once again, if anyone has any information about the whereabouts of Laura Hamilton, police are asking you to contact them immediately.”
Rick turned the TV off and stood up, coming over and sitting on her bed next to her. “We can get this all straightened out Laura. We’ll go into the police station together tomorrow morning. We’ll tell them everything that happened, from start to finish.”
“It won’t be that simple Rick. The police not catching those two men who were chasing us means they were incompetent. Or they’re dirty.” This thought led her to another, more important one. “And that man on the TV, he’s the guy who had Craig killed!” She was yelling now, but couldn’t help it. “That’s him! They said the man I shot worked for him!”
Rick nodded. “That’s the guy who your brother owed money to? Pretty ballsy for him to be on TV talking about the crime. He must be real confident to give that bit about you having mental problems. Won’t the people you work with tell the reporters the truth?”
Laura should have felt her insides drop at the mention of her work, but she didn’t think there was anywhere lower for them to go. “Damn it,” she said with a defeated sigh. “I work for an advertising agency. As soon as they hear that I’ve been accused of murder they’ll go all no comment. Staff will be told not to say anything to anyone about it. It’s part of the business to be overly concerned with your public image.”
“Really?” he asked. “You don’t think the people you work for would stand up for your good name?” He sounded as if he didn’t really believe it.
It was sometimes hard to remember that Rick came from a completely different world from hers. His world was all small town folk, people standing by their word, that sort of thing. About as far from New York as you could get, really.
“The responsibility of the management is to the company first. All their decisions will be based around what’s best for the business. And there’s really no argument that distancing themselves from me is the best thing for the business.” She was surprised how calm she sounded. As if she wasn’t just listing off all the ways she was screwed.
“Still, it’s not right,” he said with a frown.
�
��Maybe not, but it’s the world I live in,” Laura replied. “Lived in, I guess I should say.”
“What do you mean?” Rick asked, brows furrowing. He looked infuriatingly cute like that, the thought sitting absently in the back of her head.
“I can’t go back to New York right now,” she explained, thinking things through as she went. “Vascenti has set things up to give the police every reason to believe that I killed Craig. With a high profile case like this, the burden will be on the police to solve things quickly. If I go back there now, I’ll be in a cell, followed shortly by a court room. There will be no chance to prove I’m innocent.” She thought for a second. “Well, mostly innocent.”
“Innocent,” he replied firmly. “You were defending me.”
“I know,” she said, looking into Rick’s eyes but not really seeing them. “It’s strange. I don’t feel bad about shooting that guy, but for some reason I keep seeing his face. The look on his face when he realized…”
Rick’s arms were around her then. For the first time all day she felt safe. She let herself relax in his embrace, the warmth of his body reassuring her that she might somehow get through all of this.
She wasn’t sure how long they stayed there before a thought caused her to start. “Oh no,” she said, pushing her way out of Rick’s arms. “Oh I’m so stupid!”
“What’s wrong?” Rick asked, but she was already going into the pocket of her sweater and wasn’t listening.
She pulled out her phone and hit the power button, but nothing happened. “Oh thank god,” she said, breathing a deep sigh of relief. “The battery’s dead.”
“And that’s good?” he asked, obviously not following.
“I’m a fugitive, so the police are looking for me. That means they might try to track my cell phone.” She quickly took the back off the phone and removed the battery, just to be safe.
“They can do that?” he asked.
She paused for a moment. “I don’t really know.”
The Bear's EmbraceClanlessA Shifter Romance Series, Book 1 Page 8