Skin Game

CHAPTER 10

“ We’ve had a good run,” Kyra said.

She counted the money a second time and then pushed Rey’s cut across the bed toward him. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t share mattress space with him, even under the most innocuous of circumstances, but this room didn’t even offer the usual café table and rickety chairs. They had to split the take somewhere.

He’d been the perfect partner ever since they shared that scorching kiss. She had no idea what to make of his withdrawal, but maybe he’d decided not to tempt the chemistry that crackled between them. That was no doubt the prudent course.

They’d passed from Texas into New Mexico. Back in Louisiana, she’d realized she wanted to escape the heat, so they were wending their way north slowly. Kyra had heard Colorado was nice, and she couldn’t remember ever wintering anywhere cold. That would be the last place anyone looked for her, the next best thing to Canada.

As an added bonus, Kyra had a friend who would be taking a job soon in North Dakota, and she hoped Mia would be able to tell her what to do with her stash. She couldn’t get out of the country on her own, but she trusted Mia Sauter more than anyone else in the world. When she first fled Vegas, she’d known she needed to kill some time, as Mia was working a contract overseas. She’d tossed her cell phone a few days back, not wanting to take the chance Serrano could track her somehow, even though it was a cheap, prepaid device.

Just stay one step ahead, that’s all. Just a little longer.

Frankly, she’d thought Serrano would have had her killed before she got out of town, but she’d had to take the risk. The bastard couldn’t be allowed to kill her father and pay nothing for it. Men like him, men with money and power, thought they could do whatever the hell they wanted without consequence. It had been a stroke of luck that he hadn’t seen the tape for twenty-four hours, giving her a priceless head start.

She’d been running ever since.

“If I’d known there was such good money in this, I’d have looked for an apprenticeship years ago,” Rey said lazily.

A small quirk of conscience pricked her. She really should warn him that it wouldn’t go this smoothly—and the money wouldn’t flow as well—if he didn’t have her help. But that would open the door to things she had no intention of sharing. Worse, it might sound like she was trying to convince him to stay with her indefinitely.

“It beats honest work,” she agreed.

“Can we take a night off?”

Kyra glanced at him in surprise. She could certainly afford to, but she didn’t want to tap into her stash until they got to North Dakota, and she had some idea what to do with the money. Flashing large amounts of cash would get her noticed—and Serrano would have goons on her in no time. It was definitely best that she live and work as she always had. And there was the fun factor as well. Fact was, Kyra liked what she did.

“Sure,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment. It was natural he’d want a break. “Knock yourself out.”

She took in the dingy motel room, which was like a thousand others she’d stayed in: tiny, cramped, a polyester, floral bedspread in garish hues, lackluster prints affixed to the wall, and furniture so cheap that it made pasteboard look luxurious. Rooms like this always seemed to hold a faint musty odor, as well, and she’d learned not to peer behind the headboards or beneath end tables for fear of what she might find. This place didn’t even have a coffeemaker, so no ramen for dinner.

Before she spent those six months with Gerard Serrano, letting him lavish her with expensive things and posh surroundings, she never would’ve thought twice about a place like this. The bastard’s spoiled this for me, too, she thought with a scowl. Though she still enjoyed life on the road, she missed fine jewelry and a Jacuzzi tub to soak away her sorrows. Money might not be able to buy happiness, but it made misery more bearable.

Kyra remembered how Rey had walked more than a mile, carrying heavy groceries, just to feed her. Nobody had ever done anything like that for her. Until he did it, she hadn’t even known she’d like it. And now, damn him, she found herself searching for hidden meanings in his small kindnesses. He didn’t look like the considerate sort; he looked more like he cut women’s throats and left them for dead. But she’d learned people weren’t always what they seemed. Her father had called himself a professional student of human nature—and she’d taken her lessons from him for many years before he died.

“What’s wrong?” If the question caught her off-guard, the gesture certainly did. Rey reached over, ignoring the pile of bills between them, his fingers cupping her chin.

She started to recoil, but there was only a faint, thready echo. It felt oddly as if her ability had short-circuited somehow.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. How humiliating. If he realized she had a minor thing—okay, a major sexual obsession—for him, she’d wither up and die. Kyra made herself smile. “See? Totally cool.”

“You think I want to go out in search of snatch.” Statement, not a question.

She tried to make a joke of it. “Wasn’t that a Larry Flynt show?”

He sighed then. “I obviously phrased the question wrong, if that’s what you extrapolated from it. I asked if we could take the night off. Together. You and me.”

His words hit her like a closed fist in the temple, and she felt dizzy, breathless. “I don’t understand. I have no idea what you want from me.”

“You know exactly what I want.”

“You already had it,” she protested. “Damn, Rey. I’m not Chinese food . . . men don’t come back in two hours, hungry for more.”

His actions made no sense and didn’t follow the rules by which she’d lived. In her experience, one warm body was much like another, interchangeable. Sometimes the skill levels varied, but with enough imagination almost anyone could serve the purpose. Hell, given her lifestyle, she often worked in that capacity alone.

He shook his head, darkly intent. “You’re out of your mind if you think anybody else will do. I could fuck a hundred women, and still go to sleep with this ache in my gut. It has to be you.”

In that moment, she wanted more than anything to crawl across the bed toward him and give him everything. Feelings she’d never dreamed or imagined surged through her, but sex with him wasn’t simple anymore. Though it galled her to admit it, Rey scared her because he possessed the potential to matter.

“So what is it you’re offering?”

And the man surprised her again. “A drive into the mountains. We spend so much time with the dregs that sometimes I start to want something clean and pure.”

Kyra only considered for a moment. “That sounds great.”

She snagged her share of the money, aligned the bills, and then she slid them into her wallet. After shouldering her bag, she glanced at him, oddly uncertain. If there were rules for this kind of thing, she didn’t understand them. She’d never been out on a true date. In some respects she was as inexperienced as an Amish girl.

They locked the door behind them as they left using the analog metal key, and she took a cursory look across the parking lot. No signs of pursuit, but there was always a chance. Kyra found the Marquis right away.

In contrast to the darkening sky, it gleamed pale blue like the sky at the highest altitudes, all delicacy. It cost a mint to fill the thing up these days, but she’d never considered selling it. Everything she loved had somehow become bound up in the metal.

“I grew up here,” he said, gazing out over the shared balcony that ran the length of the motel.

He’d requested a second-floor room because he didn’t trust people. At least here on the corner, they would hear someone coming up the stairs; there would be some warning before disaster struck. Rey had tried to insist that they should share a room—that he didn’t like the feel of this place, but Kyra had stayed in enough fleabags to know this one was much like any other, no better, no worse.

“Here, as in Taos? Or here, as in New Mexico?”

“New Mexico,” he answered. “Not far from here, actually.”

“Did you stay in one place?”

A flicker of something passed across his dark, sharp face. “More or less.”

“That must have been . . .” She trailed off, not knowing what to call an experience that differed so vastly from her own.

Part of her wanted to say boring; another part thought comforting might apply.