The Lion Kings (novel): a BBW Werelion Menage Romance by Renee George Page B

dice and sunglasses were gone, but it didn’t seem like anything else had been taken. She pulled the window crank off the inside of the door and jimmied the panel loose, breathing a heavy sigh of relief when a wad of cash dropped to the pavement. At least she’d have enough money to pay the motel bill and get her clothes and her car keys from the room—if they hadn’t thrown her stuff away.
    She went to the small lobby and tapped on the bell. An older man with short, slicked-back hair, and wire-framed glasses entered from a side door and raised a brow at her.
    “I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m in room 103, but I’m afraid I’ve been away for several days, and I’d only paid for one, and all my things...” She could feel the tears wetting her eyes as her breathing grew quick and shallow. “I don’t know if there’s a chance--”
    The man’s expression softened. “Calm down now, Miss, and tell me what you need.”
    The intensity of her emotions were disproportionate to the situation, and the lanky clerk’s kindness made her feel even more exposed. “I... I...” She sniffled. “I want to get my things, if I can. I’ll pay for the days that I missed.”
    “One-oh-three, you said?” He pulled a ledger from under the counter and opened it up. “Madeline Granger?”
    She nodded as a big fat tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and flushed. “That’s me.” Her voice sounded as weak and pathetic as she felt.
    Now that she’d found Adam and Cage, how could she leave them? How could she stay? Both questions held her paralyzed. She loved them. Or at least, she was beginning to love them. Or was it some kind of transference, a phenomenon she’d learned about in a psychology class she took at the college? Did she love them because Clary had loved them? Were her feelings a direct result of her strange connection to their dead girlfriend? Did it matter? It didn’t make her love for them feel any less real.
    “Miss Granger,” the man said, penetrating her overpowering thoughts. “Miss Granger,” he said again. He had placed a small red suitcase—hers—onto the counter. “All the things from your room are in this bag.”
    “How much do I owe you?”
    He shook his head and smiled sympathetically. “No extra charge.”
    Gratitude washed over her, and she couldn’t stop the tears as they flowed more freely. “Thank you,” she managed to finally say.
    She opened her bag and found the keys to her car nestled in her wad of clothes crammed compactly inside. She closed the bag and jingled them in her hands.
    The clerk nodded. “Where you headed to, Miss?”
    Madeline thought about his question for a long hard moment. Where would she go? She’d spent six months chasing an urge, an itch that she couldn’t scratch. What was left for her? She pressed her palm to her chest, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.
    When she didn’t answer, the clerk held out his hand. A key rested in his palm. The plastic tag bore the numbers 110. “Before you decide, why don’t you clean up and rest some?”
    Grateful, Maddie nodded and took the key. “That’s kind of you. I’ll take you up on the room. I won’t be long though.” She gripped the handle of her bag firmly as a weight released in her chest. “I’m going home.”

“YOU heard her,” Adam said. “She’s going home.”
    He and Cage had travelled by foot, using Madeline’s scent to track her to the El Rancho motel. The place was a standard one-level small town inn. The siding was a shade of cerulean blue with lighter areas where the paint had chalked over the years of weathering. They’d spotted her from across the intersection, perhaps thirty yards away, and had watched her enter the motel’s front office.
    They had positioned themselves around the corner of the front office and watched Madeline take the motel key from the clerk. Adam’s heart sunk when he heard her say she was going home.
    He pulled Cage to