Free Infinity + One by Amy Harmon Page A

time to fall asleep, I eased out of bed, inch by inch, and crept toward the door on my side of the adjoining rooms.
    What if it squealed or moaned and gave me away? I held my breath and carefully swung the door closed. It was silent on its hinges, and I almost whimpered in gratitude. Then I turned the lock. It cracked loudly as the bolt shot home and my heart echoed the thunderous report. If Finn was still awake he would have heard it. And he wouldn’t have misinterpreted what it meant, especially after I’d made such a big deal about leaving the doors between us open.
    In the morning, I would get up early and check out. Then I would check into a different room, safe from the stranger on the other side of the door, and I would call Bear and wait in the motel until he could come and get me. Adventure over.

 

     
     
    REPORTS OF A Bonnie Rae Shelby sighting at a Quik Clips hair salon have been confirmed. Brittney Gunnerson, an employee at the business, said Bonnie Rae Shelby got a cut and color and left in a hurry out the back entrance with a tall, white male, approximately 6’1 or 6’2, in his mid-twenties, wearing a black, knit cap and a worn, jean jacket. The employee said Miss Shelby addressed the stranger as Clyde, although there are no further clues as to his identity. Gunnerson is considering pressing assault charges against the unknown man, claiming he pushed her and struck her across the face when she asked him and the singer to leave through the front entrance. Bonnie and Clyde? Folks, you can’t make this stuff up.
     
     

     
     
    SHE WAS GONE. Fine by him. He’d known as soon as he’d heard the lock being engaged last night that he’d scared her off. Good. It was better that way. He’d knocked on her door this morning just to make sure. He’d called her name and even waited around until the maid had entered her room to clean it, just to make sure she wasn’t still in there, fast asleep, or worse. With Bonnie, he didn’t know. She hadn’t seemed suicidal. But she had been less than forty-eight hours before. But the maid bustled in and out, and obviously there was no sleeping guest or dead body in room 241.
    He had lost over an hour waiting for the confirmation. He grabbed up his bags, angry at himself and at her, and left his own room, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, and headed for the parking lot. Snow had fallen overnight, and a sloppy, wet mess met him as he shot through the exit and out into the parking lot, hoisting his bags over his shoulder. His eyes shot to the gunmetal grey sky, trying to gauge what was coming. Winter weather wasn’t fun to drive in, but winter weather was February’s best girl, and unless he wanted to wait until April to head to Vegas, he was stuck with her.
    Finn’s eyes swung back down and settled on his rusted Blazer. Speaking of getting stuck with a girl, the parking lot had cleared out while he’d waited upstairs. The clientele of the Motel 6 were travelers, and no one hung around for the in-room movies or the accommodations. Only two cars remained in the entire lot, and sitting next to the Blazer, perched on a plastic bag spread over the curb, ostensibly to keep her butt from getting wet, was his own little pain in the ass. She wore the puffy, pink coat and the stocking cap she’d purchased from Walmart the day before. The hood was pulled up over her cap, and her hands were pressed between her knees. Her nose was as red as her boots, and she looked miserable. She’d seen him before he’d seen her, and her eyes were locked on his face. She didn’t smile, didn’t greet him, didn’t try to explain herself. She just watched him walk toward her.
    He bit back a curse and strode to the driver’s side. Unlocking the door, he tossed his bags in the back, climbed in, and slammed the door. He turned the key and backed out resolutely, trying to ignore that she had risen, her hands on her bags, and that her hood had slipped from her head. She didn’t move