All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 49

Arriana

Fuck. Fuck !

I stare down at the dead men, trying to figure out what to do.

I don’t regret what I did, not for a second. These animals were touching my girl. The sound of her desperate pleas will haunt me.

I shouldn’t have let her leave the room. I should have…

Maldita sea . What am I going to do?

Running a hand through my hair, I curse. I look around and am grateful to find there are no security cameras on this side of the hotel, no doubt why they opted to attack her here.

My teeth grind at the realization, wishing they were still alive so I could kill them all over again, only this time much slower and much more painful .

I spot a dumpster off the back of the building and let out a small breath of relief. Bending down, I grip the arm of one of the men, the one I had recognized as the hotel clerk. He had his hands on her, in her. His death was much too quick, but all I could think of was getting him away from her.

Grunting, I drag him toward the dumpster before returning and doing the same to the other man. I’ve definitely lost a lot of my strength and it’s becoming apparent as I try to pick up one of the bodies, finding I can’t. “Fuck.” I cry, kicking the dumpster and cursing again at the sharp pain from the impact.

I do my best to hide the bodies behind the metal box and just hope that trash day isn’t for a while. Either way, we need to leave. Now.

Darting across the dark parking lot, I slip back into the room as Fallon switches off the shower. She emerges with a cloud of steam behind her, her thin frame wrapped in one of the hotel provided towels. Her eyes trail down my body, her expression shuddered. I try to take a step towards her, but she shakes her head and backs away. Ducking my head, I let her pass. “Don’t go anywhere.” I murmur, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me.

I make quick work of cleaning off the blood, moving as fast as I can. The fear that I’m going to walk out to an empty room fueling my hurried movements.

Drying off with one of the towels, I gather everything in my hands that we touched and chuck them into the waste bin, taking one of the clean towels to wipe down our fingerprints. Backing out with the bin in hand, I pull the door closed with the towel, wiping the handle clean.

I turn to find Fallon perched on one of the chairs, fully dressed and mindlessly stroking Sir Ichabod’s fur. Releasing a breath of relief, I work quickly to strip the room, cleaning surfaces and gathering anything we’ve touched.

“What are you doing?” Fallon asks, startling me with her question. When I glance over my shoulder at her, I find her as surprised she’s asked the question as I am.

Turning back to my work, I reply, “Cleaning up any evidence we were here. We can’t risk this connecting back to us.” I pause, my shoulders slumping. “To you.” Pushing up to my feet, I pile everything up in the corner by the door before pulling on a clean pair of pants and a hoodie.

When I look at Fallon, her expression is thoughtful, her fingers still trailing through Sir Ichabod’s fur. “Baby.” I say softly, holding my hands up as I kneel before her. “We have to go.”

Fallon stares at me for several heartbeats before rising without a word.

I watch her exit the room and am on my feet running outside in the blink of an eye. My heart rate slows when I find her waiting just outside the room, her arms crossed as she stares at the place of her assault. I want to reach out, to offer some comfort, but she’s made it clear that it’s not welcome. So, instead, I trudge across the parking lot and start the car, moving it closer to begin loading everything inside.

Fallon watches me silently as I put the waste bin and used bedding inside the vehicle. I load up all of our personal effects, grabbing Sir Ichabod’s cage and getting him set up securely in the back seat. Once everything is all secure, I do another pass of the room, wiping anything and everything that could trace back to us before closing the door and wiping the handle down.

“Come on, we gotta get going.” I usher Fallon toward the vehicle, half expecting her to put up a fight. She surprises me by climbing inside without a word, clicking her seatbelt in and returning to staring blankly out the window. “Better than nothing, I guess.” I mumble to myself, climbing behind the wheel and backing out.

This was certainly not how I wanted the night to go. Not by a long shot.

With one last glance in the rearview mirror, I put as much distance as I can between us and the motel.

Mexico can’t get here soon enough.

We’ve finally reached the border and I’m growing anxious. Fallon still hasn’t said anything in the several hours we’ve been on the road.

I don’t think she’d give me up, but I’m starting to worry where her head is at.

“You have your passport?” Without a word, Fallon bends to pull it out from her bag, holding the small booklet out to me. “Thanks. And you remember your name?” She jerks her head in agreement.

Sighing heavily, I grab my own fake passport and plaster on a smile just as fake. “Howdy.” I greet as I roll down my window.

“Miss.” The border agent replies, shifting his gaze between Fallon and me. “Identification?” I hand over our passports, careful to keep the smile on my face as natural as I can. He glances up at me and back down, holding the booklet up to compare before doing the same with Fallon’s.

Grunting, he hands them back, asking, “Business or pleasure?” His eyes narrow at Fallon, sending a warning thrill up my spine.

I chuckle, placing my hand on her knee. “Pleasure. We’re here for a nice little getaway, right, baby?” My jaw clenches as I wait for her response.

After a moment of anxious silence that seems to last far too long, she finally mumbles, “Right.”

“See?” I beam, squeezing my fingers. Turning back toward the agent, I gesture forward toward the land of our freedom. “So, we good to get this vacay started?”

He stares at us both for a few more moments before nodding. “Yes, have a good time ladies.” Stepping back, he waves us through.

I tip an invisible hat to him, rolling up the window and accelerating. After I’ve put a little distance between us, I let out the breath I’d been holding, exclaiming, “We did it! We’re free now, mi vida .” Fallon flinches at the nickname, shaking her head.

“Do we really deserve freedom?” She whispers, her voice barely loud enough to make out.

A flash of anger hits me and I jerk the wheel to pull off onto the side of the road. Fallon gulps, but keeps her gaze fixed forward as I turn my glare on her. “You want to talk about what people deserve?” I snap, unable to control the furious emotions bubbling up. “ They deserved to die. They deserved a lot worse than what they got.”

Fallon shrinks into her seat, still refusing to look at me.

“Those men touched you, Fallon. They-” I cut off, tightening my grip on the wheel. “I wanted to skin them alive for what they did to you. I wanted to hear their cries and pleas. Even then, it wouldn’t be enough to drown out the sound of yours.” My voice trails off, barely a whisper as I hear her cries echoing in my mind once more.

A stilted silence follows my rant, neither of us willing to break through it and voice our thoughts. The minutes tick by and finally Fallon sighs heavily. “I need a drink.”