Chapter 3

After another quick inspection of the motel suite, I crossed the expansive white concrete pool deck to double check my surprises. Once back in the room, I glanced at the clock before dropping into a hard, cushioned chair. After a heavy sigh, an immense calm swallowed me.

The plan. It would work.

“Hell, it is working,” I muttered while inspecting the place for the millionth time.

Only a little larger than a regular room, this suite and its companion across the way had bigger bathrooms and small sitting areas. An identical blue fabric chair to the one I occupied was on the other side of a round cedar table. Although not plush, the navy carpeting had been replaced the previous year. The walls were a pastel blue. All in all, not bad for an old-style drive-up motel that had seen better days.

Across from a long, polished wood bureau beneath a rectangular mirror, there was a king-sized bed. Over it lay a shiny quilted blue and green plaid comforter. Above its glossy mahogany headboard hung a stock painting of an ocean scene. Kinda pretty. An old sailing ship plied heavy seas under russet sunbeams, shining through darkened clouds. With a grin, I returned to the tall mattress.

But that was for the future.

“If the actual plan works,” I whispered before lurching from the chair and heading into the spacious bathroom.

With jaw clenched, I checked my reflection in the mirror. In line with my actual strategy, I’d kept it simple, but on point. To match my key role—the one of which she had no hint—well-worn denim jeans and a faded white-red striped polo shirt adorned my physique.

Just as I was returning to the bedroom, a furious rapping rattled the chain on the front door. While I headed towards it, another furious barrage pummeled the thin wood.

“Yep, that’s her alright.” I chuckled.

Right according to plan. Of course, she wouldn’t use the key. That’d be far too accommodating. Plus, she’d be angry at first. Perhaps fearful somebody might recognize her as she stood alone under the single flickering bulb illuminating the room’s exterior. As my pulse ratcheted upward, my jeans strained. Once at the entrance, I let her pound a few more times before unlatching the chain and easing the door wide.

Even as I opened my mouth to welcome her, she barged past me. Her cheeks were the same brilliant crimson as when she’d stormed across the diner.

However, angry or not, she’d made an effort. Because of course she had. Besides wearing subdued makeup, her hair was gathered in a crystal-lined azure barrette. As she spun to face me, a simple blue button-front dress swirled around her hips. Although she wore flats, a pair of glossy black pumps dangled from her fingers.

No sooner had I pushed the door shut than she let loose.

“We can’t do this, Damon! It’s wrong. On so many levels. You can’t ... I won’t be blackmailed. You’re gonna go to jail.”

As she vented, I leaned back against the edge of the wooden bureau. After crossing my arms, I kept a silent countdown. Wait for it.

“Well? Say something?” When she moved right in front of me, yelling into my face, I smirked. That got her really going. “Goddamnit, Damon! Y-You bastard. You fucker. There’s no way—”

Remember when I said I was quick? Before she could even flinch, my palm shot forward to slap over her open, waxy red lips. As her eyelids flew wide, I leaned close enough our noses almost touched.

“You’re here,” I growled. “And you’ll dance for me.” As my fingers tightened on her cheek, she squirmed. “You’re also going to suck my cock, Mrs. Goodman. So shut the fuck up and keep your end of the bargain. Or I send those emails.”

With a shove, I sent her staggering backwards. As she gasped for air, I pointed to the six-pack of beer next to me. When she sneered, I remained neutral. Even her reaction, wow. Right on cue. All following the plan. Almost step-by-step.

“Going all out, huh, Damon?”

“Nah, they’re for you. Liquid courage.” With a curt laugh, I opened a can and held it out for her. “Seemed to work well before. Fueled your dancing. And, uh, your judge-sucking.”

After snatching it from my fingers, she downed the entire beer in a single gulp. When she gestured for another, I gave her a second and leaned back, as that one also disappeared. Once it too was gulped dry, she tossed the empty to the trash and wheeled to me.

“Fine. But I don’t have very long.” She exhaled while scanning the room. “I told Dave, my husband, I was visiting a friend. She’s pregnant. Having a rough time of it. He won’t ask for details.”

Once I’d pushed from the bureau to lift a boombox and a second six-pack from a table near the back door, she followed me in silence. After throwing open the door to the pool deck, I marched out under the stars.

Alone.

On the very threshold, the liquid courage had failed her. All the blood had drained from her face. As if a switch had flicked, the waterworks began.

“Please Damon. Don’t make me do this.” Between loud sobs and hitching breaths, she forced out more low words. “I’m not like that anymore. I haven’t even danced ... Please, I’m begging you. Think of my kids. Of my husband.”

Of course, I’d already thought of them. Except, they didn’t matter to me. Only she did. With a lengthy sigh, I turned from her to walk towards the far end of the darkened concrete. A mélange of woodsy fragrances carried from the shadowed trees beyond a chain-link fence. As her hoarse, whispered pleading echoed behind me, I halted at a folding plastic chair. After setting the boxy radio and beer beside the seat, I sat and grabbed a can.

Backlit and crying, she swayed in the doorway, watching as I took a long slurp. When she wiped her eyes, I risked a quick scan of the building. One last check. Beneath an overhang, a glint of darkened glass. Yep, everything was set.