Concealed Force

Chapter 16

"Okay. That's done." Laura said, locking the restocked vending machine and handing back the key. "What else?"

"How d'you feel about laundry?"

Laura shrugged. "How does anyone feel about it?"

Alyssa laughed. "Right. Well, that's next."

She'd come for Laura after lunch, or what would have been lunch in normal circumstances. Everyone in the compound seemed to be hung-over, she'd heard bikes rumble in just as the sky was getting light that morning. Reid had gone out to guard duty after his confession, and he'd stayed out till mid-morning, collapsing into bed and falling asleep.

The compound was quiet, almost peaceful and Laura had been pleased to get out and be useful. They'd restocked the ice machines swept the walkways and vacuumed the bar, and now Alyssa had pulled a proper chambermaid's trolley out of a storage room.

It all helped her forget the momentous information Reid had given her last night. A cop. He was a cop. Even thinking it made her tremble. She'd hardly processed the words before he'd had to leave to join the other prospects at the gates, and she still hadn't wrapped her head around the consequences.

It did, however, mean everything made sense. The way he'd stopped Danny from killing her, the way he'd soothed her in the car, and kept her safe from the rest of the club, the way he'd held himself back even when he'd been noticeably turned on.

What she didn't know was why he was here, and how it fitted with the other things she knew about him—the prison sentence and escape. She wasn't sure now what was real and what wasn't. Had he been in the military? Or was that a cover story? She wanted to talk to him, to find out, maybe now she knew he'd let her get closer, let her get as close as she wanted.

Meanwhile, Alyssa led the way to the top of the motel and started banging on doors. "Got any washing? Hey, in there. Want anything washed?" She turned to Laura. "We don't have a master key, because the guys get antsy about us just walking in places. They might ask us to change bedding, but we don't do that unless they say so."

"Makes sense."

"Makes it easier for us too." She turned back to the doors, shouting again. "Hey, any laundry?"

The first door wasn't answered, but the second door she tried flew open and a load of fabric was chucked out, hitting Alyssa in the face.

"Thanks," she said, sarcastic. Then waving a hand at Laura. "Don't just stand there. You start at the other end." She chucked her a washing basket, a bunch of material bags and some labels, telling her to make a note of the door numbers, and Laura went to the opposite side of the walkway. And she'd thought when she got here that this place wouldn't have a laundry service.

She knocked, but her heart was in her throat and when she tried to shout her voice came out as a squeak. She almost laughed at herself. As if this was the most frightening thing that had happened to her recently. She coughed. Gave herself a talking to. Tried again.

"Laundry? Want anything washed?" She was doing a fake cockney accent, she realized with a blush, as if she thought she was in a production of Oliver! She tried again in her own voice, working her way back to Alyssa.

Someone opened a door and threw a bunch of towels on to the path in front of her and she gathered them up, next was a pile of socks, jeans, and t-shirts. Her basket was nearly full when a man with heavy sideburns came out and leaned on the doorframe. She recognized him from last night's club meet.

"Want anything washed?"

His eyes traveled up her legs in a sweeping leer. "Need to get dirty first," he said, and then he saw her face and his grin disappeared. "Not with you though. Obviously."