And fatigue made it more difficult to keep the monster inside under the tight wrap of his control. He needed to sleep.
But what to do about Sophia? There was rope in the trunk. He could tie her up inside a motel room and get a few hours of shut-eye. But that was risky. She would absolutely try to get away or signal for help given even the slightest opportunity.
But he had to sleep sometime.
It was probably better that they hole up somewhere for the day. Driving at night meant there was less of a chance of someone recognizing that missing senator’s daughter and calling the police. It only made sense to stop for a couple of hours.
“How far is this storage place?”
She cast him a suspicious glance. “Outside Memphis. I’m not telling you anything else until we get there.”
Because you’ll kill me. The words hung unspoken in the air between them. The only reason she’d made it this far was because he was avoiding the inevitable. Maybe he should have let Savage take her out in the beginning and saved himself all this trouble.
They were near the northern tip of West Virginia now, so it would be at least another twelve hours to get to Memphis.
“You tired?” Hunt asked her, like he wasn’t the one yawning with almost every breath.
“Yeah,” she leaned back against the seat, expression weary. “Are we going to stop?”
“I think so.”
She tried to shift her position so her head could rest against the window, but there wasn’t enough give in the handcuffs. Her forehead just barely touched the glass, but that forced her neck into an awkward angle.
Still keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Hunt slipped his shirt up and over his head. It was too hot anyway and the warm air felt good blowing against the skin of his bare chest.
He tossed her the shirt. “Here. Use this for your head.”
She hesitantly accepted the offering, surprise twisting her features. “Um…thank you.”
Hunt felt her watching him as he returned his attention to the road. He knew what she was thinking without having to ask.
She still wanted him to be redeemable. It was an understandable reaction and he should have expected it. If he could be saved, then maybe so could she. Maybe this didn’t all have to end in darkness.
But just because it was understandable, didn’t mean she was right to hope.
Neither of them was getting saved.
Chapter Twelve
Sophia startled awake when the car came to a sudden stop. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but once the adrenaline wore off her body just seemed to shut down. The balled-up shirt underneath her cheek smelled like sweat, as well as something spicy and earthy like freshly turned soil. Hunt had probably been wearing it for days. She should have been disgusted, but instead the scent was strangely alluring. Part of her wanted to burrow deeper. That, combined with the steady thrum of tires on pavement, had been enough to lull her to sleep.
“Hey!”
Opening her eyes, she blinked against the bright sunlight and realized he’d been talking to her. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
Sitting up, she pushed away from the door. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she took in her surroundings. They were parked in front of a seedy roadside motel. The parking lot was mostly empty: just a few semi-trucks and an expanse of gray asphalt with bits of grass and weeds growing out of the cracks in the pavement. The place looked like something out of a horror movie, even down to the lit vacancy sign blowing gently in the wind. It hung from a single wire under a marquee that read Lakeside Motel.
She’d bet the nearest lake was at least a hundred miles away.
“We’re staying here?”
“Sorry the accommodations aren’t up to your exacting standards, your highness.” Hunt’s voice was scornful. “You can always sleep in the trunk.”
Sophia looked away, unable to bear seeing his face in full and unbearable light. Why couldn’t he have been ugly? “I think I’ll manage.”
He had a nice smile, even when it was tilted in mockery. It sort of lit up his face and made him seem younger, not that he seemed that old to begin with. She could almost forget that he was planning to kill her. Almost.
“You see that kid in there?” Hunt nodded to the little glass enclosure inside the building where she could just make out the shape of a person sitting behind the desk. The attendant looked even younger than her, maybe eighteen or so.
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to go get us a room. If you leave this car or try to signal for help, I’m shooting that kid there in the face. You don’t want that on your conscience, right?”
And then Hunt had to say something like that. Fucking psycho.
“Yeah, I got it.”
She handed him his shirt when he held out a hand.
Hunt got out of the car and stepped out into the deserted parking lot. She heard the click of the door locks when he was already a few feet away, so he must have hit the button on the remote. Without air-conditioning, heat pressed into her from the cage of metal and trapped air. It was like being locked in a sauna.
Because she needed another reason to be sweating bullets.
Hunt’s walk was loping and long-legged as he strode toward the building. When he got to the desk, she obviously couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the easy smile that crossed his face made him look charming, like he didn’t have a care in the world and wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Which was the complete opposite of the truth.
That must have been part of his training, that ability to appear as something wholly different than what he was. Because that guy smiling at the hotel attendant was the sort you took home to charm Mom and Dad, not a cold-blooded killer. But only she could see him for what he was, because he’d already shown her the truth.
Sophia’s mind was a mess, rapidly shifting from one ridiculous extreme to another. She was terrified of Hunt and hated him with every fiber of her being for what he’d done to her. He’d come horrifically close to murdering her in cold blood.
But then she would catch him watching her when he didn’t think she was looking, and her heart would do a little flutter in her chest. When his skin brushed against hers, heat jumped between them like a solar flare. For brief moments, she could almost convince herself they were two people on a date, not a kidnapper and his victim.
The kid behind the desk was looking at her in a curious way, probably wondering why she was sitting in a parked car with the windows rolled up in this heat. Hunt followed his gaze with narrowed eyes. Remembering his threat, she stared down at her hands so her hair fell forward to hide her face. She attempted to look as little like the victim of a vicious kidnapping as possible. There would be no getting away with her hands still chained to the frame of the seat.
Even if she could signal for help, give the attendant some wide-eyed and terrified stare to clue him into the fact that something was wrong, she didn’t want to involve anyone else in this mess. That kid couldn’t help her. She would just get him hurt.
Hunt came back, twirling a key ring around his finger, his lips pursed together like he was whistling a jaunty tune.
The door locks clicked just before he opened the door and slipped back into the driver’s seat. A blast of dry heat washed over her, but her skin broke out into a cold sweat for other reasons.
“Guy saw you and insisted on charging me by the hour. I get the feeling they serve a specific sort of clientele here.”
With the parking lot empty and nothing of any interest for miles, he probably wasn’t that far off.
“I can’t say I’ve ever been confused for a prostitute before.” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm.
“It’s been a couple of days of firsts for you, I think.” He didn’t seem bothered by her tone. “The room is on the other side of the building. I’m going to drive us around.”
She still had the small hope that maybe the attendant had recognized her from the news report and was sma
rt enough not to reveal it immediately. But when she spared a glance up as Hunt reversed the car, the kid had already returned his attention to the magazine laid out in front of him on the desk.
Her stomach fell a little. There was no hope there. Even if he’d heard about her kidnapping, the average person never thinks they’re going to be the one to stumble upon a missing person.
It was up to her to save herself.
Hunt drove around to the far side of the building. Their room was on the opposite side from the road, facing a thick stand of trees that went on far enough that she couldn’t see to the other side. There could be a road just beyond, or an open field that would make the perfect place to dump her body. She had a terrible sense of direction at the best of times and was unsure if she could even find her way back to the highway.
But if she could get her hands on the keys, she’d figure everything else out.
Small, rural towns had always been unnerving to her. Maybe it was because she’d watched too many horror movies as a kid. Her father never let stuff like that into the house because he didn’t want her impressionable mind falling to “demonic influences.” So the minute she got to her friends’ houses after school, the first thing she wanted to do was pop in a copy of Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Hills Have Eyes.
It was always the tiny broken-down town in the middle of nowhere where the scariest stuff went down. She’d always associated them with mayhem and murder.
Maybe it was the quiet and the isolation. If you’re going to murder someone in the bloodiest way possible, it makes sense to do it in a place where there’s no hope of escape.
Of course, Sophia never for a moment thought that she’d feature in her own horror story. And the setting seemed strangely apropos to her situation.
Hunt was staring at her. She must have been lost in thought for longer than she realized.
“I’m going to take off your handcuffs so we can go inside.” His voice was heavy with warning. “You’re not going to give me any trouble, right?”
Bide your time, she reminded herself. Even if she managed to get away from him now, where would she go? The teenaged attendant wouldn’t be able to help her; he’d just get himself killed if he tried. And she hadn’t seen another soul at the old motel since they pulled up.
“I’ll be good.”
For now, anyway.
Hunt leaned across her to unlock the handcuffs. The tiny key just materialized in his hand, which meant he’d been hiding it somewhere on his body. She logged that little nugget of knowledge away for future use.
Sophia sighed in relief as the handcuffs fell away. She’d been ignoring her discomfort for the last few hours, but now that she could see the reddened circles of skin, pain immediately flared where her wrists had been rubbed raw. She didn’t know what it was about seeing an injury that made it hurt more. Just another way that her mind could play tricks on her.
To her surprise, Hunt rubbed the raw skin on her wrists with his thumbs. A shiver of pleasure ran through her at his touch, followed quickly by a wave of disgust at herself for feeling anything but hate for him.
Was this what Stockholm syndrome did to people? Messing your mind up so much that you clung to whatever comfort was available even if it came from the same hands as your worst tormenter? It was just an involuntary reaction to the desperate human desire to not be alone. Madness set in quickly when you isolated an animal meant to socialize.
She still remembered how differently he treated her after they made that second recording, sitting down and talking to her like understanding her was important to him. Maybe the madness cut both ways. Maybe he’d been on the fringes of society for so long that the desperate need for comfort raged in him, too. Who knew how long it had been since he got close to a woman?
Maybe she could use that.
He didn’t really want to kill her, she was nearly certain of that. But he also didn’t have much choice. She couldn’t even promise not to go to the cops because they would come to her. The manhunt for a US senator’s kidnapped daughter was definitely international news at that point. There was no way for her to survive this in a way that kept him out of prison.
The storage unit was real, but Hunt wouldn’t find what he was looking for there or anywhere else. Then what choices would he have left? She wasn’t stupid enough to think she’d have a good chance at escape, but she had to stay alive long enough for the authorities to track them down. It had to be just a matter of time.
But whose clock was going to count down first?
If she could make him want to keep her around, at least for a little while, that might make him hesitate when the moment finally came. And that hesitation could be enough to save her life.
Even if it killed her soul.
And she was attracted to him. Actually, that wasn’t even the word for it. He’d turned her on, but like the flick of a light switch. It was like she didn’t realize that she’d spent her entire life in darkness until someone came along and flipped on the light. Her body didn’t care what her brain had to say about how dangerous and disgusting it was. The memory of his touch was like a fever raging underneath her skin.
It was probably the worst thing that she’d ever have to admit about herself, but there it was.
And she hated both of them for it.
“I’ve got a first aid kit in the trunk,” Hunt murmured, seeming oblivious to the rage of her thoughts. “There might be some antibiotic cream in it or something.”
She wanted to ask him why he cared, but bit her tongue. Play along, she reminded herself. Men loved women when they were vulnerable and hurting. If there was a single tender bone in his body, she was going to take advantage of it.
“It hurts a lot,” she said, her voice whisper-soft. “Do you think it will get infected?”
He cut his eyes at her. “Probably not.” His hands slid away and he picked the handcuffs up off of the floor. “Get out of the car.”
Maybe she overplayed her hand with the vulnerable thing. He wasn’t that stupid, apparently. She needed to regroup and wait for a better moment.
Hunt watched as she slowly slid out of the car. She knew that the little bit of freedom was an illusion. Even if she were brave enough to make a run for it, he’d be on her before she could get more than a dozen steps. And there was no one around to stop him.
Sophia waited by the door as he also got out of the car. The hotel room key jangled in his hand, seeming extra loud in the silence of the empty parking lot. There were no other cars parked on this side and they weren’t even in view of the attendant’s office.
She glanced at the row of dark windows with closed drapes. All of those rooms were likely empty. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Did you ask for a room away from everyone else?”
“What do you think?”
He gripped her arm and propelled her toward the end of the row of rooms. With one hand, he unlocked the door and then shoved her inside with the other.
The room was about as rundown as she’d expected it to be, but thankfully not much worse. Water-stained walls, old furniture, and a threadbare carpet didn’t stand out as much as the sagging bed with its thin comforter and bent metal headboard.
“Only one bed?” She tried to sound conversational, but her voice broke a little on the end.
Hunt barely spared her a glance as his gaze moved around the room. He was probably looking for possible escape routes or something good to handcuff her to.
“One bed makes us look like a couple, and there’s nothing suspicious about a couple traveling together. Asking for two beds makes us look like something else, something you have to think a little harder about. I don’t want anybody thinking too hard about us.”
Because he was a kidnapper and probably a murderer, too. Her brain kept trying to slide past that very obvious fact. The situation was so surreal that she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it, and the realization of what he was kept slipping away from her until she was reminded again. Mayb
e it was a defense mechanism to protect her sanity, but none of this felt real to her.
Sophia walked into the center of the room and then stopped, completely unsure of what to do next. There were no chairs and she really didn’t want to sit on the bed.
“I’m going to get some stuff out of the car,” Hunt said, still watching her. If he noticed her sudden discomfort, he didn’t comment on it. “Stay here.”
“Can I shower?” she asked.
He cast her a suspicious look. She followed him as he stepped into the tiny bathroom, hesitating at the door as they both couldn’t fit inside. It was in the same rundown but serviceable condition as everything else. There was a chipped bathtub and rusty shower head with a thin plastic curtain on one side. A sink with discolored chrome fixtures was on the other side with a toilet tucked in between.
And no window.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Don’t take too long.”
Hunt closed the door behind him and she listened as the sound of his footsteps across the carpet faded away.
Sophia undressed quickly. The tank top and shorts that she’d been wearing for the last three days were so sweat-soaked and dirty that she practically had to be peel them off of her body.
She would love to just throw all of it away, but she didn’t exactly have a new wardrobe at her disposal. That said, the thought of putting the same nasty clothes back on was a disgusting thought. So she turned on the sink faucet and raised the stopper so the basin started to fill with water. She added her clothes and a tiny bit of the shampoo. Washing her clothes in the sink wouldn’t get them truly clean, but it was better than nothing. Once satisfied that she’d done the best she could, she squeezed the excess water out of the fabric and laid it all flat across the toilet tank to dry.
There was no sound coming from beyond the closed bathroom door. She couldn’t tell if Hunt had come back inside or if he was still out by the car. But then she wondered if he was out there in the room, being deliberately quiet. Maybe it was a trap, and he waited to see if she would try to get away, thinking him gone.
Hunted by the Feral Alpha Page 12