“I’ll take you to the Battle House,” he said.
“I can’t afford that, Dex.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“But—”
“Nique, can you not fight me on this?” He rubbed a hand over his face, his movements sluggish. “I took some sleeping pills before you called. I’m tired as fuck and the Battle House is the only place I feel comfortable leaving you tonight.”
I opened my mouth to respond and that’s when I saw it. The light ahead had been red for a solid three seconds and Dex wasn’t even tapping the brake.
“Dex! The light! Stop!”
He snapped to and his foot hit the brake hard. The tires screamed against the asphalt and the car lurched violently, throwing me into the seatbelt before skidding to a halt in the middle of the intersection. By the grace of God, the street was empty.
The engine idled. My heart was hammering.
“I just got out of jail and now you trying to kill me?” I yelled.
He didn’t say anything right away. He steered slowly through the rest of the intersection and pulled over to the curb, droppinghis forehead against the steering wheel. His shoulders rose and fell heavy as he tried to shake off the haze.
“My fault,” he muttered. “I’m trippin. I thought I had more time before they kicked in.”
“Move,” I said, already unbuckling. “Let me drive.”
He didn’t argue. We swapped sides in the humid night air, the traffic light washing us both in red. By the time I climbed into the driver’s seat and adjusted the mirrors he had already gone slack against the headrest, eyes closed before he was even buckled.
I pulled off and made the short drive to the Battle House. The hotel was all old money elegance; the kind of place that made you feel underdressed just walking past it. Tonight I felt like a stain on the marble.
“Dex. We’re here. Wake up.”
He groaned, fumbled through his wallet, and pressed a heavy metal card into my hand. “Go get the room. As long as you need.”
He was already gone again before his hand hit the armrest.
I headed inside alone. The lobby was all gold and high ceilings, every footstep echoing off the marble. I caught my reflection in one of the massive mirrors and winced. Wrinkled clothes, wrecked hair, dried blood crusted on my neck. I looked exactly like what I had been doing for the last several hours.
The clerk at the front desk was a middle aged woman with a tight bun and a blazer that probably cost more than my car note. She glanced up and her eyes did a quick sweep of my face, one eyebrow twitching just enough to tell me everything I needed to know about what she was thinking.
“Checking in?”
“Three nights,” I said, keeping my voice even.
I figured seventy-two hours was enough time to figure out my next move. Long enough to sleep, think straight, and decide what I was going to do about Kel, about the wedding, about allof it. Three nights sounded logical when I said it to myself. Truth was I just needed something that felt like a plan even when I didn’t have one.
She tapped through her screen and quoted me the rate. Two hundred and eighty-nine a night. The price wounded my pride. There was something humbling about standing in a place you couldn’t afford on your own and handing over somebody else’s card to do it. The total came to just under a thousand once she added the fees and deposits.
I slid Dex’s card across the counter. She picked it up and looked at the name. Then she looked at me.
“Is Mr. Nash with you ma’am?”
“He’s in the car. He’s not feeling well.”
She slid the card back with two fingers, a polite but firm smile fixed on her face. “I’m sorry ma’am, I can’t process this without the cardholder present with a matching ID. Policy.”
“He gave it to me. He’s right outside. Can’t you just run it? He’s too tired to come in right now.”
“Policy is policy ma’am,” she said, her tone getting just a little crisper. “I cannot check you in without the cardholder standing right here.”