Hunted (Riley Cray) Read Online Free Page B

boots crunching on the frost covered snow. Hunching my shoulders up around my ears, I buried my nose in the folds of my scarf as the icy wind blew across the pot-hole riddled parking lot, buffeting me where I stood. Inside the SUV Loki yowled as the cold air blew into the car, carrying the first few flakes of snow inside.
    I delved my chilled hands into the pockets of my jacket and glanced up at the dark sky overhead. The bright morning sun had quickly given way to steely grey clouds that promised even more snow as evening fell. Squinting against the wind and swirling snow I drew in a deep breath, scenting the air through my fluffy scarf.
    The mouthwatering scent of grilled onions and charred beef drifted to me on the wind, emanating from a dilapidated diner across the stretch of pock-marked asphalt. The diner’s large windows glowed with warmth in the dreary mid-afternoon light, fresh flakes of snow beginning to dance on the air. Through the windows I saw red and white vinyl seating, turquoise laminate tables and a long metal counter. A few grizzled looking truck drivers sat at the counter drinking coffee and eating.
    “We’re in rooms three and four,” Holbrook said, gesturing to one of the chalets with a tilt of his chin as he offered me a brass key hanging from a plastic key chain shaped like a pine tree.
    “Great,” I said, forcing a weak smile though it was lost behind my scarf.
    Collecting Loki’s carrier from the backseat of the SUV I trudged along behind Holbrook to our rooms, my duffel bag and backpack slung over one of his strong shoulders, his own backpack hanging over the other. Stepping aside, he looked out over the parking lot as I fit the key into the lock, his stance relaxed while the sharpness of his gaze let me know that he was definitely on the clock. The door stuck for a moment before swinging open with an ominous creak straight out of a horror movie, revealing a small room cast in shadow. Flipping the light switch beside the door I peered inside, my eyes roving over fake wood paneling and dingy green carpet.
    I felt the loss of my home even more acutely as I stepped into the room, setting Loki’s carrier on the bed closest to the door, the bedspread an eye-searing pattern of red, pink and yellow abstract flowers.
    “I’ll let you out in a minute, buddy,” I said in response to his plaintive meow and the frantic rocking of the crate.
    “Where do you want your bags?” Holbrook asked from the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the stained and fragrant carpet.
    “On the bed is fine I guess,” I replied, gesturing to the second bed as I scoped out the rest of the room.
    A mismatched pair of nightstands sat on either side of the bed I had claimed as mine, their lamps casting dim circles of light that didn’t even begin to chase away the gloom. A squat dresser with an ancient TV sat across from the beds, the screen coated in a thick layer of dust.
    I guess the maid is on vacation.
    A small niche was cut into the wall opposite the door, housing a single sink set into a peeling laminate countertop, a door in the wall on the left open just enough to show the edge of a toilet bowl.
    “Cozy,” I said, relieved that my voice didn’t reveal the bitterness that hung in the back of my throat.
    “It won’t be for long.”
    Nodding, I turned my back on him, unwinding my scarf and stuffing it into my duffel bag before pulling out my battered sketchbook.
    “I’ve got some work to do. Deadlines to meet and all that,” I said, wishing this man I barely knew would leave me alone to puzzle over the cluster of emotions duking it out in my gut. The knowledge of Samson on the loose had unearthed a tangle of anger and fear that I had kept buried beneath a carefully crafted layer of denial. In the blink of an eye the scab had been torn off the old wound, and now I was slowly bleeding out.
    “No problem. I’m just next door if you need me.”
    He lingered for a moment as if he wanted to say