Corrupt Me

Chapter 24

Sam was going to be pissed. We wouldn't be having that talk, not just because I didn't have a phone, but I was also no longer on campus. Tristan drove us to the seediest hotel I'd ever seen. If his goal was to blend in with the thugs hunting us, he succeeded. I hadn't expected the Four Seasons, but I also thought I'd be sleeping on a bed that wouldn't give me an STD just by looking at it.

"It's not that bad," Tristan said, reading my expression.

I eyed the motel sign. Neon letters flickered, most of the bulbs burnt out, leaving just "EL" glowing in pink. A few old, rusted cars were scattered in the parking lot, and the building itself was grimy, with peeling paint and dim lights flickering in the windows. Underneath the name sat a letter board with a greeting, except the message was impossible to decipher; half the letters had fallen off or were crooked. "Tell me this is part of your plan," I muttered, the sign flickering as if it were minutes away from burning out.

"What plan?" he responded.

The dry look I gave him spoke volumes of his sanity. "Tristan, this isn't funny. I'm half expecting you to tell me this is a sick twisted prank or you're blackmailing me again."

He turned the key into the off position, the Mustang's purring engine going silent. "Sorry to disappoint you, Shortcake."

"Look, I can spring for the hotel if you need money," I extended, knowing his father often used Tristan's inheritance as leverage to get his son in line. It rarely worked, but it didn't stop Blaine from trying.

Leaving the key in the ignition, Tristan slanted slightly toward me, his arm draping on the back of my seat. He toyed with his lip ring, jaw tightening at my offer. "I don't need your money," he retorted gruffly.

The kiss in the elevator seemed like weeks ago, not mere hours. "You might not need it, but I do. Can't we at least stay at the Holiday Inn? Anywhere but here?" My gaze snuck another unpleasant glance at the two-story motel, and I shuddered.

"I'll check us in, and then you can order takeout." A speck of humor glimmered in his eyes as if my misery amused him.

Sadistic prick.

I put out my bottom lip in a pout, not caring how immature I was acting. "I need to get a new phone." I grasped any excuse to get me the hell out of here.

His hand moved to the door. "Not tonight. The stores are closed. We'll get you one in the morning."

A swirl of anxiety whirled in me. "I have a class at ten," I blurted before he could get out.

"Then we'll go after class," he reasoned, agitation edging into his features.

"Fine." My arms crossed, sinking dramatically against my chest. "Your call, but if I get kidnapped in the middle of the night, it's on you."

"Not going to happen with me sleeping next to you."

I swallowed. Why did he have to put that image into my head? I had to say it was better than the one of me getting hacked up with an axe by a serial killer. "We're sharing a room?"

He flashed me a smile, the hoop winking at the corner of his mouth. "I told you I wasn't leaving your side."

Wasn't he taking this protection detail a little too far? But as I stared at his face, seriousness consumed any specks of lighter emotions. He was all grim and doom now.

Resigned to spending at least a single night with Tristan, I just had to convince myself I had enough self-control to keep to my side of the bed. What I did when I was sleeping, wasn't on me. "Can I use your phone? I need to let Sam know I won't be home."