Shooter (Burnout) (6 page)

Chapter 4

Hayley made her way to Maria's the next morning with a little more pep in her step. She grudgingly thanked Shooter and his cop friend for that, albeit silently. Getting rid of the Giggler had resulted in a a far more decent night's sleep than she'd had since arriving in Rapid City. She wasn't exactly happy about four huge bikers invading her personal space, well, two invading her space and two standing sentry at the door, but they didn't press her for personal details and had left her alone after arresting the Giggler, so all in all it had been worth the trouble.

She stowed her bag in Maria's office and tied her apron around her waist. She'd lost a little bit of weight. Especially since moving to South Dakota. The room at the Rainbow didn't have anything like a kitchenette or even a hot plate and when she was off-shift she was too tired to walk to a nearby place to grab some food. Also, that kind of thing would hit her savings hard after a while.

She smiled at the regulars, warmed their coffee and served their lunches and decided that she'd splurge on a danish tomorrow morning and peruse the paper for a place to stay. Her shift went by pretty quickly, or maybe it just seemed that way because she wasn't hurting for sleep this afternoon. She cashed out, said goodbye to the other girls, and finagled her duffel through the swinging door out into the main bar area when the front door swung open and in stepped Chris Sullivan. Hayley frowned. He was alone and from her limited experience at the bar, he rarely, if ever, came to Maria's in the afternoons. Usually only on Fridays and Saturdays, Miranda had said.

She stopped. Face to face with him now was awkward because one the hand, he'd basically stalked her to her motel room last night. But on the other hand, he'd done it because he was worried about her safety and he'd also gotten rid of the Giggler. She reluctantly decided that the pros outweighed the cons and resumed her approach as his gaze zeroed in on her. He started toward her.

Meeting in the middle, Hayley said, "Um. Tell your cop friend thanks for getting rid of that guy." There. She'd said it. Now she could live her life knowing the scales of karma had been balanced once again. She started to step around him when he moved in front of her. She sighed inwardly, not really wanting to have an actual conversation with the man when he did worse than that. He reached down and grabbed her duffel off her shoulder. She was so surprised that she almost accidentally let go of the damn thing. Coming to her senses she gripped it tightly.

"Hey!" she cried.

"Let me carry this for you," he said. But he didn't say it in a way that sounded helpful and friendly. He sounded pissed.

"No! Why?"

"Because it's obviously heavy," he replied.

"Give me my bag," she demanded, yanking hard. It didn't work. He didn't let go.

"I'm in my truck," he announced.

"What?" she asked, bewildered.

"I drove my truck to work today," he told her.

She stared at him. The man was obviously unbalanced and no amount of apologizing was going to do anything about that. He couldn’t even carry on a conversation that made sense.

He sighed. "Slick." She stiffened at the insult. "I'm tired. It's been a long day. Get your ass in my truck so I can take you home with me."

Glaring at him, she said, "I’m not going anywhere with you."

He sighed again. "I had this all worked out in my head before I got here. But now I see you and I'm tired and I'm still pissed off at the stunt you pulled last night. I'm in no mood to argue with you."

She gaped at him. “What stunt? I didn't pull any stunt," she insisted, getting pissed herself. "I took a cab!"

"No," he said, leaning toward her. The glittering intensity in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. "What you did was sneak out the back door to avoid me."

"I-" she spluttered. "I did not." But she knew she had. She had felt him eyeing her most of the night. At the time she'd had no idea it was because he was some kind of crazed stalker, she'd just wanted to get the hell out of there and get back to the motel.

He smirked at her. "Slick, you gave our table to Miranda and you avoided looking at me so much at one point I thought you were gonna give yourself a neck injury."

Hayley scowled at him. "Well, I just think we should stay away from each other."

He shook his head. "That's not gonna happen, Slick. You're coming home with me. Where I can keep an eye on you. Where meth heads don't knock on your door at two o'clock in the morning."

Her chin jerked up a notch. "Why do you care? Nothing's changed. I mean, you're still even calling me ‘Slick’."

"Yeah, I am."

"Well....stop it."

"I think maybe I'll call you Slick a little while longer."

"Why?"

"To remind myself that I can be a real asshole sometimes." Hayley stopped yanking on her bag. His face softened and along with it, his voice. "Maria says you're a good waitress. She says I was unfair and I should eat crow to make everyone's life easier. So this is me eating crow."

She chewed on her bottom lip. She really did need a place to stay. A place with a real kitchen and a shower that didn't require a hazmat suit. But this man was crazy. Were hot meals and shower worth potentially being murdered in her bed? "I don't-"

"Jesus, Slick. Stop busting my balls. I screwed up. I'm sorry. Get. in. the. truck."

"I won't sleep with you," Hayley suddenly blurted out.

He snorted. Loudly. "I'm not that desperate," he replied.

Hayley let go of the bag entirely, her hands unconsciously pressing against her torso. His words felt like a punch in the stomach. She was thin. Pale, even. But she wasn't ugly. Even though she had no intention of sleeping with Chris Sullivan it still hurt like hell that he'd just announced to every in the bar that she was beneath him. She looked over her shoulder at the regulars, grateful that Saturday afternoons were not that much busier than weekday afternoons. She felt heat creep up her face.

**************************

Fuck. Chris had fucked up. Again. She'd been standing there, arguing with him, making him look like a damn fool, and worse, when she said she wouldn't sleep with him. Loudly. Like he was some kind of sexual predator. He figured she'd be so grateful after last night, after seeing first hand what kind of lowlifes stayed at the Rainbow, that she'd jump at a second chance at a decent place to stay. Instead she'd looked a cross between mad as hell and in fear for her life. And now she looked like he'd gutted her.

"I'm sorry, Slick. I didn't mean it like that. Will you just come home with me?"

“No!” she snapped. “Give me my bag!”

Chris suppressed the urge to curse loudly and handed her the bag. “Hayley, listen. I’m sorry. I wasn’t saying-”

“I don’t care what you were saying!” she told him and stormed past him, throwing open the front door.

He turned and followed her, past his own truck, and through the parking lot. "What I meant was, Maria told me that you had .... problems.... with your old man. And I'm not the kind of guy to take advantage of a woman who's recently had problems. All I’m offering you is a safe place to live. I need a renter, you need decent place. That’s it."

“Well…whatever,” she told him. “It’s just not a good idea.”

Chris fell into step beside her. “No. It’s a great idea. Staying at the Rainbow,
that’s
not a good idea. That place is not for you, Hayley.”

She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. “I won’t be there much longer. I’ve been looking at other places.”

“Within walking distance of the bar?” Chris countered, immediately. He knew there was no such place.

He watched her chin jut up, defiantly. “I can take the bus during the day,” she told him.

“And eat up half your tips with cab fare clear across town at night?” he asked. “At least my place is only a few blocks from here. It wouldn’t burn so much of your money.”

“I- No. Just no,” she insisted, attempting to outdistance him. But he was taller and in much better shape and it wasn’t even much of a race.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re crazy!” she snapped, crossing the street. “You followed me home! And…and what are you doing now? Are you going to follow me all the way to the motel?”

“Yes. If that’s how long it’ll take to convince you that you can’t stay there anymore.”

She stopped short. “You can’t follow me!”

He grinned at her. “Obviously, I can and I am. You need to stop busting my balls. I already apologized. You are one stubborn woman,” he mused.

They finally reached the parking lot of the Rainbow. “I-” she told him. “If I say I’ll think about it will you leave me alone?”

He pretended to consider. “Not really. How ‘bout you think about it for 30 more seconds and then we get the hell away from this rat trap?”

Hayley looked exasperated. “You know you-”

“Hey!” came a voice from behind them. Chris heard Hayley mutter a curse. “Hey, you owe me twenty bucks!”

Hayley and Chris turned and Chris spotted a woman well past her prime with teased blond hair, black at the roots, haphazardly applied lipstick, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She was marching toward them. Hayley sighed. “No, I do not.”

“Bullshit,” the woman snapped, eyeing Chris like a slab of beef. She held out her liver spotted hand. Then she smiled sweetly. “I ain’t ripping you off, honey,” she told Hayley. “It’s the same deal for all the other girls.”

“He’s just walking me to the door,” Hayley insisted, and began to turn away.

The woman’s extended hand grabbed Hayley’s arm and yanked her back. “Don’t care what you call it, girlie. I get my twenty bucks.”

Hayley struggled to jerk her arm out of the crone’s grip. “Hey,” Chris said, “get your hand off her.”

The crone gave him a dismissive look. “Stay out of this, John. Ain’t interested in your opinion.” She pulled Hayley in closer. “Got your tits,” she observed. “Got your pretty face. Bet your snatch is still tighter than a drum.” She jerked her head toward Chris. “Charge him extra if you want. He looks like he can afford it and he for damn sure won’t find better around here. But I get my cut, missy, or you’re out on your skinny little ass.”

Hayley finally jerked free and Chris saw her face turn red, either from anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure, probably both, he figured. “I’m not a hooker!” Hayley hissed. “And you know it! You know damn good and well I’ve never had a man in my room!”

The crone’s eyes narrowed. “Had two of ‘em in your room last night, or so I heard,” she countered. “One was a cop, messing up my business. Folks don’t like badges too much around here. I’d kick your ass out for that, but your rent’s regular. Bit more of it coming in, too, if you take him upstairs. Could be good for both of us. You’re way too old to make any serious cash, but you could still earn a pretty penny.”

“Enough,” Chris growled in a tone that finally got the old lady’s attention. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he told her.

The lady sneered. “Or what, John?”

He leaned in as close as he dared trying to flinch at the stench wafting off her. “Or I call my cop friend back and he starts knocking on doors.”

The old lady did actually pale slightly, but then recovered her resolve. “I want my twenty bucks,” she told Hayley. “Twenty or you’re out.”

“Fine,” Chris replied for Hayley. “She’s out.” To Hayley he said, “Come on, Slick. We’re leaving. Now.”

Hayley hesitated. “But-”

“Now,” he repeated, putting an arm around her shoulders and steering her away from the crone and apparently her brothel. When they were well enough away, she stopped on the corner of the sidewalk and looked back at the motel. “Forget it,” he told her. He took hold of her chin and directed her gaze back to him. “I don’t pay for it, Slick. And you don’t sell it. And neither one of us is giving that beast another dime.”