Chapter Forty Three

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At the motel . . .

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It wasn't as romantic as Jane would have liked. Neither woman had engaged in much personal grooming for weeks and both smelled like they had just been in a fight. They were bruised, battered, and Jane was still ginger with her healing arm. But nothing short of an act of God was going to keep them apart that night.

As soon as they had paid the deposit and gotten in the room, Jane had turned and with a bit of her traditional shyness returning, she slowly raised up on her toes, keeping contact with Red's eyes until the last possible second, and then kissed her. She could taste Red's sweat (and a little bit of her blood), but she couldn't remember anything feeling as good as those lips against her own.

"Are you sure you want this now?" Red asked.

"Yes," came the reply. "I really do."

Red picked Jane up, minding her arm, and carried her over to the ful