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paper. Making headlines again, Dad. Fact was, he’d died five days ago. They’d managed to keep it under cover for longer than she’d thought they would.
    Movement through the front doors caught her attention but she couldn’t seem to peel her eyes away. Seeing it in print out here in the middle of nowhere was like being doused in ice water. Nowhere I run will be far enough. Will this follow me forever?
    Gunner followed her gaze to the dispenser. “You said something about Glenn Moore before?” he asked, reading the headline.
    She nodded. “He was my father.” That led to a series of revelations that would have been comical if she was witnessing it in anyone else, regarding anyone else. He cursed with each one, his tone changing depending on what he’d just realized. “Oh, shit.” Her father had just died and it was sad. “Oh. Shit.” He’d died in prison. “Oh, shit!” He was the big Wall Street trader who’d been starring in headlines starting half a year ago and straight through his high-profile trial. The media circus ended with his conviction - guilty of stealing large sums of money from his clients. It looked like the frenzy was revived with his death - they’d be talking about it on all the networks and in the papers for weeks.
    “So this is why someone is after you?” he asked.
    She nodded. “Not entirely sure. I think it’s someone who wants their money back and they think I’ve got some of it.”
    “And do you?”
    She didn’t know how to answer that one. “Yes” meant “I have money and therefore perhaps some bargaining power here with you.” “No” meant “Help me I’m poor I have nothing.” Truth was, she didn’t know. She was sure her father left her an inheritance but it would be so wrapped up with his crimes she might never see it. Especially if it was from stolen funds. Would I still want it if it was? She shook her head and settled for a sort-of lie. “I do have some… funds. I just don’t have access to them right now.”
    He just nodded. “Well. Sorry about your dad.”
    “Thanks.”
    He leaned back against the dispenser and blocked the headline from the view. “So you’re a city girl,” he said with a smirk.
    That was the last thing she expected him to zone in on. “Yeah. Wall Street, all that.” She shook her head. “I was in college up north, though. Just a little place in New Hampshire, nothing fancy. I had a year left…”
    “College fund ran out?”
    “Seized.” Why was she telling him any of this? She fished inside her purse. “How much was the room?” she asked, praying the number would be reasonably low.
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    She paused, wrist deep in tissues and receipts. “I can pay my way, Gunner. I don’t want to be in debt to you.” She supposed she already was, considering he’d spared her life. “Not further in debt, at least.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it so personally. This was a club problem so it’s coming out of club funds.”
    She bit her tongue against continuing to argue. She really needed to save what little money she had however she could. He didn’t need to look so satisfied when she finally nodded, though.
    He helped her down from the bike; they hadn’t ridden for very long but her legs were shaky. When she was steady on her feet, though, he didn’t release her - he gripped her shoulders tighter and leaned in close. “Do not let anyone but me inside the room, got it?” Her breath caught as he spoke. “My club will kill you if they find out that I let you live. Understand? I’m in enough trouble with them right now, I’m really sticking my neck out, here.”
    “I appreciate it,” she breathed. Understatement of the year. In that moment when she’d realized how badly she wanted to live, she would have been willing to do absolutely anything.
    “Stay put. I’ll be back in twenty.” He finally released her and pressed the keycard into her hands. “Room 109.” He still hovered too close and