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Authors: Courtney Lane
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side. He opened the door a crack. Hushed words were exchanged with a woman. He released the door, allowing it to close and returned with a leather duffel bag.
Shoving the duffel bag toward my chest, he forced me to take a hold of it. Unzipping it, he rifled through the contents, withdrawing a few things.
He held up a plastic bag, unfurling it and a plastic packet the size of an envelope. “Take off your clothes.”
“Right here?” I looked around the room skeptically and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Now?”
He shook his head in a lazy way. “You were naked in front of me last night. Why is it a problem?”
“It’s…different. I’m not modest. I…”
“Don’t give it away for free?”
Dick. Snarling at him, I set the gun down on the floor, between my feet. I snatched off my clothes and threw them into the empty plastic bag he opened in front of me.
Placing my hands on my hips, I waited for a reaction. He might as well have been a smut peddler who witnessed the most beautiful naked women day in and day out. Or maybe I wasn’t his type. My body did nothing for him and made me question why he would want to kiss me in the first place.
He extended the white package. “Wipe your hands and feet.”
I snatched them from his grip and began to do what he said. The strong chemical smell made me retch and burned my skin.
“Thoroughly,” he barked at me.
Muttering, I did it again.
He opened the bag in front of me, nonverbally directing me to throw them in. He stepped toward the bathroom door and opened it for me. I picked up the gun from the ground and sidled inside the bathroom.
He took the gun from me, with his hands covered in a portion of the plastic bag. “Take a shower. There are clothes for you inside the bag.”
I locked the door behind his exit on the tails of a man—introducing himself as a police officer—banging on the door.
In the mirror, I examined myself, looking for any new cuts or bruises. Besides the bump on the back of my head, nothing new alarmed me.
The unanswered questions were the only things keeping my mind busy.
The clothing in the duffel bag fit a woman who took her fashion and tailoring seriously. The quality and fit of the simple white T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans with nude heels placed it far from the ordinary. In the bottom of the bag, my fingers grazed a small, soft box. Pulling out the blue box, I pushed my thumb at the seam to open it.
Inside was a diamond ring with a blinding amount of carats in a platinum or white gold setting. I fingered it, recalling it had been a long time since I’d touched something so beautiful.
After showering, I put myself together as best as I could. I placed my curly hair up in a twisted bun with the hair supplies provided. I followed what my gut told me to do and slid the diamond ring on my fourth finger, left hand.
The authoritative voice and the footsteps of a cop echoed on the other side of the bathroom door. Giving myself one more glance over and straightening my clothes, I waltzed out of the bathroom, cutting through the bedroom to meet Catch and the police officer in the sitting room.
“I’m so sorry, miss,” apologized the uniformed cop. He shielded his eyes when he caught me shoving the length of the T-shirt down to settle naturally at my hips. “We received phone calls about an incident on this floor, and as I was telling your fiancé, we are questioning everyone to determine if guests of the hotel had heard or seen anything.”
I sauntered over to Catch, keeping my posture pageant-straight, and hooked my arm around his waist. “We were so loud last night, I think the entire floor heard us.”
“You were the one screaming at the top of your lungs, sweetheart,” Catch played along and draped an arm over my shoulders bringing me closer.
“Oh, come on, baby .” I rested my hand on his chest. His pecs tensed under my grip. The expression on his face held mischief.
Shoving the duffel bag toward my chest, he forced me to take a hold of it. Unzipping it, he rifled through the contents, withdrawing a few things.
He held up a plastic bag, unfurling it and a plastic packet the size of an envelope. “Take off your clothes.”
“Right here?” I looked around the room skeptically and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Now?”
He shook his head in a lazy way. “You were naked in front of me last night. Why is it a problem?”
“It’s…different. I’m not modest. I…”
“Don’t give it away for free?”
Dick. Snarling at him, I set the gun down on the floor, between my feet. I snatched off my clothes and threw them into the empty plastic bag he opened in front of me.
Placing my hands on my hips, I waited for a reaction. He might as well have been a smut peddler who witnessed the most beautiful naked women day in and day out. Or maybe I wasn’t his type. My body did nothing for him and made me question why he would want to kiss me in the first place.
He extended the white package. “Wipe your hands and feet.”
I snatched them from his grip and began to do what he said. The strong chemical smell made me retch and burned my skin.
“Thoroughly,” he barked at me.
Muttering, I did it again.
He opened the bag in front of me, nonverbally directing me to throw them in. He stepped toward the bathroom door and opened it for me. I picked up the gun from the ground and sidled inside the bathroom.
He took the gun from me, with his hands covered in a portion of the plastic bag. “Take a shower. There are clothes for you inside the bag.”
I locked the door behind his exit on the tails of a man—introducing himself as a police officer—banging on the door.
In the mirror, I examined myself, looking for any new cuts or bruises. Besides the bump on the back of my head, nothing new alarmed me.
The unanswered questions were the only things keeping my mind busy.
The clothing in the duffel bag fit a woman who took her fashion and tailoring seriously. The quality and fit of the simple white T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans with nude heels placed it far from the ordinary. In the bottom of the bag, my fingers grazed a small, soft box. Pulling out the blue box, I pushed my thumb at the seam to open it.
Inside was a diamond ring with a blinding amount of carats in a platinum or white gold setting. I fingered it, recalling it had been a long time since I’d touched something so beautiful.
After showering, I put myself together as best as I could. I placed my curly hair up in a twisted bun with the hair supplies provided. I followed what my gut told me to do and slid the diamond ring on my fourth finger, left hand.
The authoritative voice and the footsteps of a cop echoed on the other side of the bathroom door. Giving myself one more glance over and straightening my clothes, I waltzed out of the bathroom, cutting through the bedroom to meet Catch and the police officer in the sitting room.
“I’m so sorry, miss,” apologized the uniformed cop. He shielded his eyes when he caught me shoving the length of the T-shirt down to settle naturally at my hips. “We received phone calls about an incident on this floor, and as I was telling your fiancé, we are questioning everyone to determine if guests of the hotel had heard or seen anything.”
I sauntered over to Catch, keeping my posture pageant-straight, and hooked my arm around his waist. “We were so loud last night, I think the entire floor heard us.”
“You were the one screaming at the top of your lungs, sweetheart,” Catch played along and draped an arm over my shoulders bringing me closer.
“Oh, come on, baby .” I rested my hand on his chest. His pecs tensed under my grip. The expression on his face held mischief.
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