She heard herself, hadn't thought about what she would say. She didn't have savings, hadn't been on the job long enough. Frank hadn't asked her to move in, so what in the hell was she doing? Claudia took a deep breath. She knew. She was being honest with a man who deserved it. She could find a cheap apartment or something, but living off Mike wasn't right.
"You're moving to the spare room?” His jaw clenched, shoulders tensed, and his face started turning pink.
"No.” Tears came to her eyes. She hadn't expected that. “I'm sorry, Mike. I'm moving all the way out. It isn't right for me to stay here. I will pay you back for everything."
"You're moving in with him, aren't you!"
"Who?"
"Frank White.” A drop of spit flew from his lips as he spoke the words like some curse.
"How do you know his name?” She put up a hand. “No, no, don't bother. It doesn't matter.” I'm not moving in with him. Nothing has happened between us physically, but ... I know I can't stay here with you."
"Why the hell not?"
"I don't love you, Mike, not in the way you want. I love your strong spirit, your mind, but I'm not in love with you. Please forgive me."
"You might've been if not for that man."
Mike crossed the room in two strides, both hands balled into fists. For a minute, Claudia thought he would strike her, or stab her. His eyes were wide, glistening in emotion. He started trembling with rage.
Memories of another man hitting her surfaced—a man with a knife, a car careening out of control, standing at the foot of a bed, looking at a woman in bandages. Like short blasts they came, one right after the other. Then they stopped, but not before she managed, “Please don't hurt me."
"I wouldn't hurt you.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I've done everything for you and here you go, leaving me."
"I'm sorry. I don't love you."
"You would've in time. You're mine, damn it. You belong to me."
The words cut through her. It didn't come down to him missing her or worrying for her. She'd become a possession, bought and paid for by a roof over her head. She wasn't sure when it had happened, maybe in the hospital. Somehow, Mike thought he owned her.
"I belong to no one. I am a person, not an object."
She went to the bedroom and realized she didn't have anything to pack. Everything she owned had been given to her by Mike. He could keep it too. If she could walk out of here naked, she would leave the clothes on her back as well.
Claudia went to the bathroom and grabbed a few toiletries, throwing them into her purse. She would mail back everything once she had bought replacements. She would not be an owned woman.
"You're not leaving me."
Mike came in behind Claudia. It frightened her, reminded her of another time. He could hurt her, could kill her. Knowing this made her knees weak, but she raised her gaze to meet his. She wouldn't back down. For some reason, she thought she should, maybe before her accident she would've. Not anymore.
"Get out of my way, Mike. You know this isn't right."
He only stood there. She had to pass by him to get to the door and that's exactly what she did, pushing past. For a minute, she thought he would chase after her. Again, images of a man hurting her entered her mind, but she kept going, through the front door, and into the fresh air. She was free.
She plodded down the sidewalk, reaching the park before she knew what to do. She had a hundred fifty bucks in her purse, not much to start a new life. Claudia kept walking and found a street with cabs. She hated wasting money, but she needed to get away from there, and the buses didn't run at night.
A big yellow taxi stopped and the heavily accented driver took her to the road she requested, one not far from the construction site. At least it would be easy getting to work. From there, they drove until she spotted a lit hotel sign.
Claudia couldn't remember checking into a hotel before. This one looked cheap but safe, so it would do. Thirty-five bucks a night and a key, now she wouldn't have to listen to Mike complain. Tomorrow morning she would start looking for an apartment.
The little sign by the phone promised free local calls. The only person she could think to talk to was Frank. He would make her feel better, take away the bitter taste Mike had left in her soul.
"Hello?” Frank answered and she could hear Win barking in the background.
"I moved out.” She didn't know what else to say. “I left him."
"Claudia?"
She had never lied to Frank but hadn't exactly told him everything. She did that now, told him through tears how Mike had taken care of her and how she had betrayed him because she didn't fall in love. Considering everything Frank had shared with her about his past, she thought he would be upset with her. He wasn't.
"That must've been hard for you."
There he was, being her confidant, gentle, un-judging ear. She loved him all the more for it. She even confided that she had hoped to fall in love with Mike, if only to ease the guilt. This too Frank understood.
"May I come over?” he asked when she'd finished. “Or would you prefer to be alone?"
"I don't ever want to be alone again."
"Then I'm on my way."
Claudia laid her head on the pillow, breathing in the foreign scents of soap, cleansers, and that unmistakable hotel wet smell. There was a big mirror above the dresser. She kept staring at it. Because of its size, the mirror appeared more like a doorway, and she thought maybe it was. She could almost see light, see a face when she stared at it. The smells brought something else back, this wasn't the first time she'd been in a hotel room.
She relaxed and closed her eyes. All this was nothing more than fatigue. It would take Frank a while to get here. She could rest until then. The world might make sense when she opened her eyes.
"It's my body,” she mumbled as sleep overtook her. “You can't have it."
Mike watched from the parking lot, his car hidden in the shadows. It hadn't been difficult following Claudia. The timing had worked out perfectly. He managed to be in his car, looking for her when he saw her get into a cab. She'd been too upset to look back and see him.
When the cab dropped her off at this hotel, Mike went past, circled the block, and then pulled into the lot. Claudia had already checked into her room. All Mike had to do was inquire at the desk, show his badge, and he'd know what room she had checked into. He couldn't help himself even though it would cost him his job if anyone found out.
This hotel had the rooms opening to the parking lot. That made surveillance easier, although Mike wasn't sure what he would do next. Burst in on her and beg her forgiveness? That didn't sound right. He wasn't sorry. Anger tore through his body—Claudia was supposed to be his, not Frank White's.
Frank grew to be a thorn in his side. He shouldn't have Claudia anywhere near him, not with that crazy ex-wife of his on the rampage. He should be watching Frank, waiting for Catherine to strike. It wouldn't be so bad using him as bait.
Mike couldn't do that though. In his current state of mind, he might let Catherine do her worst, not save Frank at all. Those were dark thoughts, below his moral code, but they entered his mind, clinging there like a secret wish. All men were privy to dark desires, but he couldn't imagine taking the step beyond the fantasy into making it happen. That's what people like Catherine did.
Headlights filled the lot, circled the building, then came back to park near Claudia's hotel room door. Mike knew that truck. Frank had arrived to claim Claudia, came to be with the woman that should belong to him.
"Damn him to hell."
Mike watched Frank open the door to his truck and step out into the parking lot. He looked around, probably checking for Catherine. His observation skills weren't so keen. The guy never noticed Mike. At least Mike didn't believe he had.
Frank went to the door and knocked. A moment later, Claudia appeared. Mike couldn't tell for certain from his car, but he thought Claudia had been crying. Maybe she would break up with Frank, come running home to him.
Claudia threw her arms around Frank. They stayed like that, displayed in the doorway. It didn't appear that lustful or passionate, more like old lovers who missed each other so desperately they couldn't stand another minute apart.
After a full two minutes—Mike was watching the clock—the two went inside the hotel room, closing the door. Not seeing them proved worse than watching them. Mike had no idea what they were doing. His imagination went into overdrive, creating situations with them naked, in intimate positions.
Another set of headlights appeared. They didn't pull in right away. Mike realized the car was sitting in the alley across from the hotel. He had no idea how long it had been there, but he saw the headlights come on, and the car creep through the intersection. Once in the parking lot, the headlights cut off again. The driver parked at the far side of the lot.
He couldn't be certain with the lack of streetlights on that side, but it seemed to be the same model as Catherine's vehicle. He waited, watching for his chance to nab Catherine. The person exited the vehicle but didn't look like Catherine. This person looked more like an adolescent boy with a ball cap and those oversized clothes the teenagers think are cool.
Probably some kid trying to rent a room for a party. He hated those. Underage drinking started, then came the vandalism, and, of course, sex. He wondered how many girls ended up pregnant at a party like that.
That left him back with his original predicament. Should he go confront the two of them or wait it out? Logically, he should just go home and lick his wounds. Something wouldn't let him turn the ignition. Before the night was out, he would have to talk to Frank, see what his intentions were. More than anything, he didn't want Claudia getting hurt. He might be mad with jealousy but in the end he could accept her decision if it made her happy.
"I still hate you, Frank."
"I can't believe you came."
Claudia and Frank sat on the bed, his arms around her while her head rested on his chest. She'd wanted this, wanted him. Everything about tomorrow was uncertain, but this one moment made everything good again. If Frank were in that tomorrow, it would be a good one. The best ever.
"I would do anything for you."
His hand slid under her chin and lifted her face toward his. She knew what was going to happen and closed her eyes. His lips brushed against hers in a touch so gentle, so soft, she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it or not. Then his lips pressed harder, his tongue following, urging her mouth opened. Their breath mingled in the space between them, starting a new kiss each time the old one ended.
Frank reached the hem of her shirt, sliding his hand beneath. She loved the sensation of his flesh touching hers, those slightly rough hands gliding across her abdomen. He went higher, touching the edge of her bra. Electricity shot through her, arousal, and something more, remembrance.
She had loved this man before. She knew him.
Before his hand could touch her breast, the hotel room door flung open, knocking hard against the back wall. At first, Claudia thought a teenager had gotten the wrong room. Then she saw the eyes, those cold blue eyes.
"I know you."
Claudia stood as Catherine raised the pistol at Claudia's head. Frank grabbed Claudia as the gun went off, and Frank shouted in pain. He had put himself between her and Catherine. Blood spread through his shirt, bright, life draining from him.
Mike jerked from his bout of pity. He could've sworn he heard a gunshot. He'd been sitting there with his head lowered on the steering wheel. His every thought nothing but self-absorbed foolishness, but thoughts he couldn't deny.
Now he looked up and saw a perfect rectangle of light. The door to the hotel room was wide open. He could see movement inside but no detail. Surely those two hadn't started making love with the door open. They might know he was there, wanted him to see them.
He reached for the key, ready to start the car and go home when he heard a second shot. That was definitely a gun, not backfire, not a tire. Someone was shooting inside that hotel room. His Claudia was in danger.
Mike picked up his cell and frantically dialed 911. “This is Detective Mike Malone, I'm at the Biltmore Hotel, 5th and Parkings Street, shots fired, repeat shots fired."
He listened a moment while the dispatcher entered the call and her partner put it out to the beat units.
"I'm in a red Ford truck. You'd better roll an ambulance as well, have them stage at...” he looked around before telling them an address three doors down. “Suggest beat units come in rolling silent. Affirm, shots fired, two so far. Sounds like a pistol. Be advised there is a swimming pool to the left of the room, two cars in front. And I have no doubt Catherine White is the suspect. Never mind how I know."
As the first unit approached, he signaled them to the left of the room as he approached the room itself. On the bed lay Frank. The guy wasn't in good shape, but he tried to stand, tried to get to the two women wrestling in the middle of the hotel room floor. They were too close for Mike to get a single shot off. On the floor lay another pistol, probably the one used to shoot Frank. A bullet hole, probably the second shot, marred the sheetrock. Concern for his safety retreated to the background, not caring if there was a second gun, as he watched Claudia try to gain control.
"Freeze, this is the police."
No one looked up. Both women, consumed in their personal battle, paid him no attention. He started forward, ready to pry the two women apart when the shouts caught his attention, stopped him in his tracks.
"I remember who I am,” shouted Claudia. “I told you I'd be back for him."
"Pam!” Catherine shrieked as she tried to punch her in the face.
Frank dropped to his knees, also seemingly shocked at Claudia's statement. His face grew pale, too pale. If help didn't arrive soon, he wouldn't make it. Damn it all. He would have to save the bastard.