The Game Has Changed Read Online Free Page B

her, fully distressed now. “I really wasn't!”
    “Did I just give you the idea, then?” She
continued weeping.
    A forlorn laugh escaped him before he sighed
deeply. “I'm not a killer, my love.”
    Her breath caught in the midst of her sobbing.
He’d called her affectionate names ever since they’d met, yet she
knew he probably did it with everyone he met. The woman in the
shop, he’d called that woman Luv , hadn't he? Why did the names he called her
seem to have a certain nuance that she just couldn't quite explain
within herself?
    “I'm not a killer,” he whispered again, almost
defiantly, to himself.
    A short time later, Evan pulled into a motel's
parking lot by the side of a country highway southeast of
Pittsburg. He was much too tired to attempt driving any longer. As
he got out of the car, he could see an abundance of stars in the
sky above him. It was an awe-inspiring sight for him to see and it
wasn't something he normally took notice of.
    His whole charmed life, he had spent it in big
cities. First, in London and ultimately, in Los Angeles. His
current job also afforded him a jet-setting lifestyle. Most of the
United States had just been a blanket of clouds under his wings. So
why was he seeing it for the first time? Why was he noticing
everything now? It was as if he was finally forcing himself to stop
and smell the roses.
    He hurried about to Jaime's door. Jaime wanted
to pretend he was being a gentleman, but she knew better. He took
her hand and helped her out of the car.
    “We'll stay here for the night,” he said, yet
his expression told her so much more. He no longer had to say the
words. She sensed he was asking her to behave.
    “Don't forget my backpack,” she said fretfully
as he closed her door.
    “It's just a backpack, isn't it?” he dismissed.
“I suppose we'll have to do some shopping for clothes come
tomorrow, won't we?”
    “I want my backpack,” she whined, angry that
he’d ignored her request.
    “All right,” he sighed, holding her hand tight
as he opened the back door to retrieve it.
    They entered the motel’s office to find a
sleepy old man sitting in a chair in the back room. He peered over
his gold-rimmed glasses to gaze at them suspiciously as they
approached the desk.
    “What do you want?” he grumbled, not bothering
to move from his chair.
    “I imagine I want what it is you have to
offer,” Evan replied with heavy sarcasm. “I mean, this is a motel,
isn't it?”
    It seemed like a huge effort for the man to get
up, more of a bother really, but he did so, none-the-less, and
hobbled toward the desk, looking down at his watch as he did so.
“You're a real character, aren't ya?”
    “Mostly, yes,” Evan agreed. Jaime was doing her
best to stifle her giggle as she stood behind him.
    “Check in time is usually way before
this.”
    “Well, we've been on the road and . .
.”
    “You got a reservation?”
    “No, I do not.”
    “Oh, listen to your fancy pants accent there.”
The man gave him a peculiar smile. “All right, how long do you need
the room for?”
    “Just for the night, please.”
    “I hope you realize this establishment is not
for that sort of activity?” the man said sternly, his eyes swinging
in Jaime’s direction.
    Jaime gave him a shy little wave.
    Evan smirked when he realized how the man
perceived the situation. “I should hope you realize I didn't bring
that sort of woman with me. Really? Does she look like a hooker to
you?”
    “Now, don't go and lie to me and tell me she's
your wife! She's way too young for that,” he snorted.
    “She's my little sister.” Evan
grinned.
    “Oh. Let's hear you talk fancy, too, little
sister.”
    Evan's eyes widened. So did Jaime's. Evan
turned toward her, their eyes meeting momentarily. She suddenly
didn't want to disappoint him.
    Heaven knows why, she
thought.
    Having never done so before in her entire life,
she put on her best Cockney accent. “Cheerio,” she said with
perfect inflection. It was the