Gabe (The Love Family Series Book 7) by Kate Allenton

 
     
     
    Chapter 1

     
    Lucy Brook Lynn Pate-Abbott ran her chipped fingernail over the plastic that covered her expensive fake ID. “I asked for a new name.” Finally glancing up at the punk perched behind his computer screen, she slammed the IDs down on his desk. “This won’t work.”
    The heavyset college kid’s fingers stilled on the keyboard and he finally looked up at her. “Listen, lady, I don’t know why you want a fake ID, and honestly, I don’t care,” he said, rising, his six-foot frame towering over her. “You asked for an ID and I provided it. Time to pay up.”
    “If I wanted to use my real name, I wouldn’t need an ID in the first place.” The volume of Lucy’s voice grew in intensity, and even that didn’t persuade the college punk to offer up something new. Something she could use.
    “You needed an ID. You have four names. Who has four names?” he asked, and then, without waiting for a response, continued. “I worked with what you gave me. Get over it.”
    Who had four names indeed? Rich people who lived in fancy houses with butlers named James, that’s who. Her mother had kept her maiden name when she’d married. A lot of good that had done her when the tire went out on her limo and the car veered over the cliff, killing both of Lucy’s parents. That should have explained enough. Not that she’d waste her time explaining it to this price-gouging geek. Her heart ached at the memory, and tears stung her eyes. Hold it together.
    “You don’t understand.” Her eyes misted. Disappearing was her only shot to survive. “My life is on the line here.”
    “What? You got an abusive husband or something? Why do you need to disappear?”
    The dorm room door busted open, and a group of college kids walked in. The smell of alcohol hit her in the face from across the room. Her chances to leave town without them finding her were dwindling. “Fine.”
    Lucy dropped the bills on the computer desk, snatched the ID, and left without another word. “Brooklyn Pate,” she murmured in disbelief at the names he’d chosen to combine. Well, Brooklyn would just have to work. She shoved the ID into the back pocket of her baggy jeans and hoisted them higher on her hips, ever careful of the bandage against her ribs. Her jeans fell right back into place. 
    Lucy pulled the hoodie over her head and tucked her long brown hair inside. The sunglasses she’d worn weren’t to shield her eyes from the sun, but her attempt at a disguise. When she’d left the house, she’d looked like a really bad version of a college kid, or a badly dressed bomber. She hadn’t decided which. Brooklyn Abbott, Brooklyn Abbot, crap…Brooklyn Pate. She repeated it over and over in her mind, trying to make the name stick as she made her way back to the sleazy motel.
    Lucy dug the card key out of her pocket, shoved it in the door, and hurried inside with one last look over her shoulder. The lingering smell of cigarettes and mildew drifted to her nose and would cling to her pores long after she’d left. The air in the room was stale, unmoving, and she wouldn’t dream of opening one of the windows in this neighborhood.
    She glanced at the bedside clock. She had twelve more hours in this flea-infested room. One more sleepless night of listening to the headboard bang against the adjoining wall before the hooker’s pimp would show up demanding the money.
    Lucy pulled the curtains until they overlapped and glanced at the locks on the door. They were flimsy at best, but currently her only defense. She shoved a chair beneath the knob as she’d seen on television. Walking into the bathroom, she lifted the shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor. The blood from the wound seeped through the bandage. She let out an exhausted sigh knowing that, like the other wounds, this one would also heal.
    She slowly peeled away the bandage while biting her lip to stifle her scream. Her head spun as she redressed it with a fresh pad. The skin