Chapter 5 #2
He seems like a nice guy, but I’ve been fooled by worse. Like hell will I be telling him I’m all alone. It’s better this way, anyway.
He pulls out a card and hands it to me. It’s his business card with his cell phone number and relevant information, including his name. Don Rickett.
“You need a ride anywhere, call me. If I’m free, I’ll pick you up and take you where you need to go, free of charge. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be free, though I can get another driver to collect you if you need one.”
“You really don’t have to do that.”
“You’re in Raven Falls now, lady. We look after our own.”
I swallow around a lump in my throat. “I’m not sure I’m—”
“Nope. Consider this your adoption. No arguing. Now get your ass inside and get some rest because right now, you look like the grenade won.”
A burst of laughter slips free, startling me and making him grin.
I look down at the card in my hand and study his name before nodding. “Thanks, Don. I appreciate it.”
He salutes me with two fingers and watches as I climb out, tugging my bag with me.
I close the door and give him a little wave with my good arm, expecting him to leave, but he doesn’t.
With a frown, I head to the reception area and pull the door open.
As I step through, I look back, and that’s when he finally pulls away.
Bemused, I head to the counter to check in.
The guy behind it runs his eyes over me, clearly not put off by my appearance if the lick of his lips is anything to go by.
Poor kid probably thinks his limp dick energy is going to make me drop these panties.
But after all the bullshit with Lee, I metaphorically welded on a chastity belt.
It would take more than his tickle pickle to unlock it.
“You’re a day late.”
I stare at him because it annoys the shit out of me when people state the obvious.
“I could have rented your room out.”
Lord, spare me from idiots. It almost makes me want to try my luck with grenades again.
“But you didn’t. I paid in advance so the room is mine regardless of when I check in.”
“That’s not how it works, little lady.”
I blink, pretty sure my brain just glitched. There is no way he just called me that. Seriously, grenades are looking better and better by the second. Hell, I might try juggling with a couple. Give a twist to the game of Russian roulette.
“Listen, boy, all I want is my room key and for you to point me in the right direction.”
He holds up his hands in a “don’t shoot” manner, his lips twitching as if this is all foreplay to him.
“Maybe I could show you personally. We could come to an arrangement. Perhaps I could give you a discount.”
“The only discount you’ve ever given in your life is a five-fingered one.
The same five fingers that can probably wrap around your dick twice.
I don’t need a discount, I’ve already paid.
And unless you’re going to convince me you’re the owner of this place, I’d quit while you’re ahead.
This qualifies as sexual harassment and I’m not above beating down perverts, even if I have to use a purple cast to do it. ”
He leans over the counter in a clearly hostile manner. The last shreds of my sanity snap. I grab him by the collar and have the knife out of my pocket and pressed against his throat before he can get a word out.
“I bet my prick’s bigger than yours,” I tease, amusement riding me hard at the ridiculousness of this whole damn thing.
“Word of advice: know your prey. I’ve been bent, broken, and left bleeding by bigger badasses than you.
I’ve had not one, but two houses burn to the ground, taking everything I own with it.
I married a killer, and walked away from a pissed-off MC when they wanted nothing more than to choke the life right out of me.
” I press in close, my lips a scant inch from his ear.
“I held my best friend at gunpoint, stole a live grenade, and blew myself the fuck up. I dare you to try me, motherfucker.” I press the knife in just enough to nick his skin. He whimpers as the smell of urine fills the air. I let him go and shove him back.
He looks at me like he wants to hide under the counter.
I should feel bad. I might be a bitch, but it’s mostly a self-preservation mechanism.
If I don’t get close to people, they can’t fuck me over.
My point is, I don’t go out of my way to terrorize people.
That being said, not every woman this guy messes with will find him lacking.
I could easily see him pressing his advantage on a young girl down on her luck, or running from something that already makes her vulnerable.
I doubt he’d lose any sleep over what he would do to them, and it doesn’t take much for an interest into a hobby.
Pretty sure that’s what turns a murderer into a serial killer.
“Key?” I hold out my hand. He fumbles around for it, dropping it into my hand before he mutters something about having a good day and disappearing out back.
I snort. “Well, that wasn’t on my bingo card.” Though, to be fair, my bingo card has been looking like a disaster game of survival lately.
“And I don’t even win a prize at the end for not dying. How fucking rude,” I mutter as I head toward the rooms, following the signs for the number on the key.
I get turned around twice because I have the directional skills of an opossum on meth, but eventually I find my room. I unlock the door and walk in. It looks clean and tidy, and the furniture is modern. Right now, that’s good enough for me.
I lock the door behind me and walk over to the desk after dumping my bag on the floor. I take the chair from the desk, drag it over to the door, and wedge it under the handle. I’d be surprised if limp dick energy tried anything, but it costs me nothing to be cautious.
With that done, I strip out of the hoodie, slipping the knife under the pillow, just in case, and kick off my sneakers and sweatpants.
I leave the T-shirt on, pull back the covers, and climb in.
My grand escape took more out of me than I thought.
The doctors said I would tire easily, but this is getting ridiculous.
I feel like I’m two steps away from a blue rinse and Murder She Wrote reruns.
Though if I can’t be Betty White when I grow up, I’d happily be Angela Lansbury.
I drift off to sleep with an amused smile on my face, only to wake up what feels like minutes later when I hear the sound of a bike engine outside.
“There is no way…” I climb out of bed and walk over to the window, peeking through the drapes. The sun is just cresting on the horizon. It’s later, well, earlier than I thought it was.
The parking lot is bathed in a warm pink hue, making it easy to see the vehicles parked outside. A quick scan shows nothing but trucks and SUVs. I take a second look, out toward the road and beyond. I don’t see anything, which has me questioning if I’m just hearing things now.
Feeling irritated and overly warm, I open the window a crack so the cool breeze can waft in.
I take a deep, cleansing breath. With a sigh, I head back to bed and crawl under the sheets, trying to slip back to sleep.
But now that I’m awake, the pain has kicked in with a vengeance, making sleep impossible.
“Fuck my life.”
I get up and move to my bag, reaching for it with a groan.
I search it for the painkillers and anti-nausea pills, popping a couple in my hand before throwing them back.
I hobble to the bathroom where I drink a few mouthfuls of water directly from the faucet.
I splash some on my face and stare at my reflection in the dim early morning light.
Not sure why I keep looking. Maybe I’m hoping for a miracle where I wake up and magically my injuries have all healed overnight.
I pee while I’m up and contemplate taking a shower. But the thought of how much energy it will take almost makes me whimper. Plus, I didn’t bring anything to cover my cast.
I wash my hands and make my way back to bed. I might not be able to sleep until the painkillers kick in, but that doesn’t stop me from resting. As much as it galls me to not be busy doing something, I’ll only make my recovery that much harder if I don’t respect my body’s limits now.
I lie there, listening to the faint hum of the AC, trying to get my thoughts in some kind of order so I can make a plan.
It might help me stop feeling so out of control.
First things first. I’m going to need more clothes and toiletries.
I can get room service, so I don’t have to worry about food, and the motel also offers a laundry service, which I plan on utilizing.
Once I have the clothing issue taken care of, I need to look at all the paperwork Midas emailed me about Au.
I’m not really sure of the legalities of handing someone a building free and clear.
And I sure as heck don’t know how I feel about it.
There is a vindictive part of me that thinks Midas deserves it for me to take it.
If it wasn’t for him and his poking around, the club girl that was obsessed with him wouldn’t have tracked me down, attacked me, and burned my business and home to the ground.
If Kruger hadn’t found me…I shake off those thoughts, still not knowing why he was there in the first place.
My anger snaps into gear whenever he’s around, so I forgot to ask.
All I know is that Raven Souls has become a curse to me.
Whenever I get involved with them, bad shit happens, and I just don’t think I can handle anything more.
If I keep Au, they’ll know exactly where to find me. Once upon a time, that would have been a comfort. Now it feels like an albatross around my neck.
What would happen if I tried to sell it?
Would Midas want it back or demand the profits?
I just don’t know. All the uncertainty is not helping my head, so I switch to something else, like my living arrangements.
If I’ve learned any kind of lesson, it’s that I need to keep my home and workplace separate, so if I lose one, I still have the other.
I think that’s why it hit me so hard this time.
It wasn’t just a setback that I could come back from.
It was yet again the annihilation of my life.
Thankfully, I was insured for both, and I paid for the premium insurance.
Maybe in the back of my head I always knew this was going to happen.
Either way, I’m thankful I’ll eventually have enough money to start over, with or without Au.
But insurance companies are not known for hurrying themselves.
As the painkillers kick in, I let my mind drift to what I want in a home.
Something safe, something quiet. Something that’s just mine that nobody can take from me.
I wonder if a place like that even exists.