“I’m not wearing those,” he said, trying to scoot himself upright.
“I should hope not. Consider them a little memento of the occasion.”
“Can I have the handcuff key now, please?” he asked while she pulled on her shirt and flipped her hair out of the back.
She put her shoes on without a word.
“Very funny,” he said. “Be a good girl, Ly, and take off the cuffs so I can shower.”
She whirled on him. “How do you know that nickname?”
“I heard it when I was eavesdropping on your call with Valerie the day she hired the stripper.” On the drive to Flagstaff, he had already told her how Valerie had inadvertently provided him with everything he needed to know about where Lydia was, as well as giving him the stripper idea.
She actually looked stricken at that. “Oh.” There was a pause. “So there was actually a stripper.”
“I told you there was. Is that disappointment I hear?”
When she grabbed for the jacket he’d bought her, he frowned. “What are you doing?”
She pulled on the ski coat and turned, and this time, the guilt in her face and her voice were quite real. “I’m really sorry, Nate. I planned to be gone before you woke up.” She gazed at his body longingly. “I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave without fucking you one more time.”
Now he was pulling hard on his wrist. “Leave? What the hell are you talking about? I thought we agreed we need to stay together?”
She shook her head and went to the door. “I can’t let you be involved. It wouldn’t be right.”
“I already am involved. You leaving now won’t change that.”
“Those men nearly shot you because of me. If we stay together, you might get in harm’s way again.” She glanced at the floor. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”
“A little late for that, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m going to fix it. I have to see Andrew.”
“Why? No, Ly. Don’t.”
“That’s the only way to stop this. I know I can work a deal with him. Then you’ll be free again, and hopefully I will too.”
She reached for the knob, and desperation reared up in him. “Stop!” he called. “Do not go out that door. Let me help you, Lydia. Don’t do something we’ll both regret.”
“Too late,” she whispered, and she pulled open the door. Bright sunlight streamed in, meaning it was midmorning at least.
Lydia paused in the open doorway for a final look at him. “God, I really wish we could have met under better circumstances. Stay safe, Nature Antillean.”
Then she was gone.
“God damn it,” he said, shifting around to check the handcuffs. They weren’t loose, but she had neglected to secure them on his arm above the wrist bone.
Putting his thumb to his pinky, he used a twist and tug motion. It took some doing, but he managed to slip off the cuff. Resisting the urge to bolt after her stark naked, he grabbed his pants and barely tugged them on before running barefoot out the door. Their room was on the second floor, and by the time he hit the stair rail, he saw the taillights of his car headed out the driveway.
“She’s stealing my fucking car,” he said, racing back to the room with his pants still flapped open. “Miss I’m-not-a-lawbreaker just committed grand theft auto.”
Which would be exactly what he would have to do in order to stop her.
He took quick stock of what Lydia had and hadn’t taken. She’d left with the new cell phone and some of the cash, not to mention the contents of his trunk. But she hadn’t left him entirely destitute. She hadn’t emptied all the cash from his wallet, and he still had a few of the prepaid cards. One of them had already been used to secure the motel room, though.
Nate stuffed what he had into his jacket pocket, except for the key to the room. He left that on the round table on his way out the door. He wouldn’t be coming back.
Breaking into a car and hotwiring it was among his skill sets, but he’d only done it on his own cars. He’d never swiped someone else’s. Anger and guilt mixed in his gut as he picked out an older, nondescript car that he was lucky enough to find had the back door unlocked.
“Add one more sin to the list of reasons why the cops want you,” he muttered as he twisted wires together to spark the engine to life.
He squealed out of the parking lot, hanging a right in the direction he’d seen her go. Why was she doing this? If she wanted to meet with the asshole boss on the sly, there was no reason not to let Nate help. It would have been much better to have him on her side. Not wanting him in danger was noble, but it was a weak excuse. Danger was a been-there-done-that deal already, and it had left him a wanted man. She was putting herself in a highly unsafe situation by not having someone to watch her back.