Broken Beginnings (The Moretti Crime Family 3)

I turn the water off and step out of the shower, drying with one of the cheap towels. This hotel isn’t the worst I’ve stayed in. I wish I could’ve taken Claire somewhere better, but I couldn’t risk Julian finding us, and I’m not stupid. He’s got men looking for me, overturning every rock and trailing every tip given.

He won’t stop until I’m dead, and I will not risk putting Claire in that kind of situation, so the shitty hotel is what she gets.

Once I’m dressed, I open the door and step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I’m not surprised to find Claire sitting at the edge of the bed. Sleep still clings to her delicate features, and I have to force myself not to drag my gaze down her body.

Who cares if she’s wearing my shirt and boxers? Me, obviously. I tell myself it’s the proximity and the fact that I haven’t been with a woman for a while that has my most basic primal instincts rushing to the surface, but I wonder… if maybe it’s something else as well. No.

With my jaw clenched, I walk over to the duffel bag and shove my clothes inside of it.

“We should probably get going. We need to stay on the move.” I don’t mention that I just betrayed one of the most powerful mob bosses of the east coast. The last thing I need is for her to be more worried, looking over her shoulder at every turn.

Claire nods and tucks a few strands of her bright hair behind her ear. “Do you think I could call Tracy and Steven? I know they’re probably worried sick about me, and I haven’t gotten to contact them. I want to make sure they’re okay.”

As much as I hate to do it, I have to tell her no. “I’m sorry, but no. It’s too dangerous to contact anyone right now. We’ll head out in about five minutes, swing through a drive-thru for some breakfast, and then hit the road again.”

She doesn’t bother trying to hide her disappointment from me. “Okay.”

Frustration slithers in my gut. I’m pissed that I put Claire in this situation. If it wasn’t for her association with me, she would be tucked in her bed back home, but she’s not. She’s on the run, barely escaping the clutches of Julian Moretti. Thinking of if he were to get his hands on her keeps me focused. I can handle her disappointment if it means she’s safe.

Shelter from the storm that is my life.

I grab the duffel bag and look at Claire once more. She’s still in the T-shirt and boxers, but that’s just how it has to be. “Let’s go,” I order with a hint of impatience.

Claire stands, her face still frowning with disappointment. She looks down at her clothing. “I have nothing to wear. I can’t be seen like this. It’ll draw attention.”

I smirk because, for once, she sounds like a typical sixteen-year-old girl. “That’s good since no one else is going to see you. Once it’s dark and we get close to the next hotel, I’ll stop somewhere and get you some pants and a couple T-shirts.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she stares into my eyes, her gaze so concentrated, I wonder if she can see inside my mind. If she knows what I did earlier and was awake and heard me calling another woman’s name.

If she did, she hasn’t mentioned it, and I’m not about to confess what I did. I need to push the filthy, immoral thoughts I had away. Claire is a kid, and it doesn’t matter that she is growing up or that there was something so sweet and pure about her that made me want to dissolve her like a sugar cube on my tongue.

She is off-limits. Completely off-limits.

15

Claire

Another night, another motel. This one seems less of a dump than the last one, but still a dirty place I’d rather not sleep in. Too bad I don’t really have a choice.

“You want to wait here or come in?” Lucca asks, putting the car in park.

“I’ll come in,” I say, already opening the door. I’d rather not be alone, no matter how short of a timeframe.

He nods his head, and we walk into the motel office where a bell chimes above us in greeting. A moment later, a woman walks out of a door behind the small counter. There is a permanent frown on her face that makes it seem like she’s annoyed by the prospect of customers.

That look evaporates into thin air when she sees Lucca approaching. She straightens up, puts a smile on her face, and I’m pretty sure she pushes her chest out a little. I stare at her chest, wondering if she has nicer boobs than me.

“Hey ya’ll,” she greets with a southern drawl, and I wonder how far we have actually driven. I don’t even know what state we’re in right now.