My eyes widened at the hardness in his tone. “I appreciate you telling the doctor you would look out for me, but you didn’t really think I would stay with you, did you?”
“I gave the doctor my word.”
I gaped at him. Was he serious? He couldn’t possibly want me at his house any more than I wanted to be there. “I won’t tell him you took me to a motel.”
“I’m not taking you to a motel,” he growled.
“Yes. You are.”
He completely ignored the fact that he was sitting in the center of the road and crossed his arms over his chest and regarded me with raised eyebrows. “How do you plan to pay for the room?”
“I have a bank account,” I snapped, but then I realized my bankcards, checkbook, and driver’s license burned in the fire. “Oh.”
He smirked.
“Was my car damaged?”
“I don’t think so.”
I blew out a breath. “I have my library ID for work in my glove compartment. I can use that at the bank.” Thank God I kept it there. I also kept a twenty in there with it because once I left my wallet at home and starved the entire day because I had no money to buy lunch.
“It’s after five,” he said, pointing at the clock on the dash. “Banks are closed.”
I leaned my head back against the seat. It was starting to hurt. “Look. No offense. I am grateful to you for saving my life. For checking on me in the hospital and for bringing me these really cute flip-flops, but I don’t know you. I can’t just come to your house.”
“You’re scared of me.” He said it like the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
“No.” I protested. I really wasn’t. He made me feel… safe. But that was the problem. I wasn’t safe. Someone tried to kill me. I couldn’t just go home with some stranger because I didn’t want to be alone.
“Someone tried to kill you.”
“I know.” I held up my wrist.
“I’m not taking you to a motel.”
“It’s not your decision.”
“I’m the one driving.”
“You’re stupid!” I yelled.
He laughed. A real laugh that started in his belly and burst out of his chest. I giggled. I just called him stupid like I was twelve.
A car sitting behind the truck beeped their horn loudly, then sped out around us, the driver sticking his very unfriendly finger out the window and waiving it wildly around.
“Well, I guess he told me,” Holt said and flashed his teeth.
I giggled some more.
He put the truck in drive and pulled away. His face turned serious. “Do you really have no one?”
I sighed. “I can take care of myself.”
“How is it that someone like you ended up all alone?”
His words caused a hollow feeling inside me. It kind of felt like a giant pocket of air that kept expanding until there was nothing left but the pressure of emptiness inside me. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“I’m tired,” I said. I leaned farther into the seat and looked out my window at the passing buildings. The sun was low in the sky and I knew in just a few hours, darkness would blanket the town, covering up all traces of sunlight. I wasn’t sure I was ready for the darkness.
The last time I went to sleep in the dark, I woke up tied to a chair in the middle of a raging fire.
“Look. Let me take you to my place tonight. In the morning, I can take you to the bank and to whatever motel you want. It’s only one night.”
I felt myself beginning to succumb to his words. I knew I would sleep better if he were close by. I tried not to think about that too much because I didn’t like it. I really was tired. My body was sore and all I really wanted was to take some pain meds and curl up beneath a blanket. A soft one.
“Fine. I’ll stay.”
He smiled like a cat that ate a canary.
“But if you try to kill me in my sleep, I will come back as a ghost and make your life a living hell.”
He did that immediate brake thing again, using his arm to keep me from flying forward. I let out an exasperated sigh. “You are a terrible driver.”
“Katie, look at me.”
The command in his voice was undeniable.
I looked up.
He regarded me with somber eyes. “I swear to you I will never hurt you.”
Deep down I knew it. It was almost like an instinct. Like when you meet someone and right away you know they are a liar. Or that right away they give you the creeps. Well, with Holt—the minute I saw him, I knew. I knew he was a good guy. My subconscious called him a superhero. He wasn’t a liar or a creep—I would sense it if he were. Wouldn’t I?