Three Days To Dead by Kelly Meding

Author:Kelly Meding [Meding, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Sixteen

May 14th

Lights from the street cut intricate patterns across the thread bare carpet of the motel room, shifting from red to green to blue and back again, all in time with flashing neon signs. I cannot sleep. Too many thoughts plague me. Fear of what lies ahead, affection for the man next to me, uncertainty of our futures.

Wyatt’s arms tighten around my middle. I tense, but he does not wake. He is dreaming, muttering. It may be a nightmare, but I allow him to sleep. If he wakes, he may want to talk. I don’t. I have committed a grave error by sleeping with him. I gave him an attachment, and Handlers cannot function if they are too attached to their Triads. It is their job to order us into dangerous situations. Into certain death, if need be.

How can he do that after proclaiming he loves me?

I consider sneaking out, setting off on my mission without a good-bye. It is useless. He is no Hunter, but he will know when I get out of bed. There is no sneaking away from him. But I cannot continue to laze about. I still have to clear my name and find justice for my murdered teammates.

My fingers slip around Wyatt’s. I draw his hand up to my mouth and kiss his knuckles. He stirs. His breathing quickens. He is awake.

“I have to go,” I say without looking at him.

“I know.” He kisses my bare shoulder. “Can I ask where you’re going?”

“Uptown around Fourth Street. I know someone there who might be able to help with information.”

“Who?”

“I’d rather not say.”

I stand up, feeling no shame in my nudity as I search for my clothes. Wyatt sits, the blanket tight around his waist, and I am glad. I fear he will try to stop me or, worse, insist on going with me to see Max. He surprises me by doing neither. He simply watches while I dress and finger-comb my short hair back into order.

“You’re sure this person can help?” he asks.

“Pretty sure.”

I go to the sink and splash cool water on my face. The terry towel is rough as I pat my skin dry. I turn. Wyatt stands in front of me with a sheet bunched around his hips. Uncertainty etches lines around his eyes and brackets his mouth. I want to reassure him, to force that uncertainty away, but I don’t. Wyatt believes in me. It is the only reason he isn’t begging me to stay.

“The protection barrier on the motel will last two more days,” Wyatt says. “Come back here when you’ve talked to your friend.”

“I will.” I check the digital clock on the nightstand. The sun won’t rise for a few hours, so I’ll probably have to wait for Max to return. “I should be back before noon.”

“If you find out something—”

“I’ll call.”

“Be careful.”

“Do you really think you have to say that?”

“Yes.”

I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him before I can stop myself. His arms snake around my waist.

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