Milo
“Don’t do it,” I told myself, staring at the TV and watching as the action sequence involving some actress in a leather outfit against a lot of bad guys went down on the screen.
I hadn’t been keeping up with the plot, but I didn’t think there was a lot to keep up on.
It wasn’t cheesy. It was just mindless enough I didn’t have to think, but it had done pretty well at being flashy enough to keep my attention on it rather than my own thoughts. ..mostly.
I still felt my eyes drifting to the bedside table where my phone sat.
Since leaving Eli and our shared apartment three days ago, I had turned my phone off and refused to deal with it.
I was sure there were messages from people, not just the ones giving me hell for what everyone had learned about Eli and me, of which there were bound to be thousands, but also from people concerned because I had dropped off the face of the planet.
Looking around, I grimaced. I technically had the money to get better accommodations, but how long would that nest egg last?
Sure, it was several thousand, but that kind of money could disappear fast, especially when day-to-day costs added up quickly.
I could pretty much count on having no more income from the social media accounts, and a ‘real’ job wasn’t on the horizon yet.
Until Eli and I found jobs that might be able to keep up with our bills, I wasn’t going to burn through my savings.
I wasn’t sure if having the shelf under the TV littered with cans and bottles looked trashy.
I had been medicating myself for the past three days, or maybe it looked right at home in the room, which was a step above what you’d expect to find with bugs in the carpet or questionable stains on the bedding.
However, it wasn’t a huge step. There was a mildew smell that lingered no matter how long I stayed in the room, and a water stain on the ceiling that made me glad the motel only had one floor; otherwise, I might be worried about what could come crashing through the ceiling.
And the less said about the decor and bedding that would have been ugly in the seventies, the better.
But it was at the edge of town, far from where I would be easily recognized by people who were used to seeing me; it was quiet save for the couple next door who liked to get into loud arguments at four in the morning.
Not that that was a problem, I was either still awake at that time or so dead to the world from all the alcohol in my bloodstream that I wouldn’t notice.
Plus, the place was cheap, the front desk worker hadn’t blinked at my name and face, and everyone seemed more than happy to mind their own business.
In short, it was the perfect place for what had originally been meant for me to get my shit together.
It hadn’t taken long for it to become the place where I lay around in drunken misery, mourning everything in my life that was pretty much dead and gone.
I knew I would have to emerge from my den of misery at some point, but that time was nowhere near.
Not that it helped when I entertained the idea, only to realize what that would entail.
There were scores of people that would have to be dealt with, which didn’t include people online.
I had no idea what my family had to say about the whole thing, and even trying to contact one of them to get a gauge of how the rest of them were feeling filled me with such a sense of overwhelming dread that I couldn’t bring myself to reach for my phone in an attempt to turn it back on.
And I knew Eli was out there, desperate to know I was okay.
I’d sent him a message through my laptop to tell him I was alive, had settled in somewhere to try to breathe, and was turning everything off so I didn’t have to see messages from anyone.
I still fought with myself on that one because he had to be just as lost and adrift as I was, but that was even more reason to keep my dramatic ass as far from him as possible.
Plus, if I had read the room right before I’d left, he still had Eva to help him.
I might have always felt awkward around the woman because of my jealousy for what she could get out of Eli that I couldn’t, but that was dead and buried.
She might have been pissed that Eli had kept the relationship a secret from her, but she didn’t seem like she was pissed enough to leave him alone.
I, however, only had Eli, and I wasn’t going to dump my shit on him.
Was it hypocritical to think that after what we’d argued over before our worlds had been thrown on their heads?
Probably. Was it a different situation in terms of scope and impact?
Absolutely. Did that mean it changed whether I was justified in staying isolated, so I didn’t overwhelm him when he was probably struggling to stay afloat?
No idea, but it certainly felt that way.
“Do not ,” I growled as I found myself staring at my phone again.
I don’t know why I kept the damn thing in sight when all it did was tempt me; it was why I’d tucked my laptop away so I wouldn’t be tempted to read what people were saying, or check in with Eli.
Checking in with him would mean inevitably getting talked into returning to the apartment, which I couldn’t do to him.
I was still a mess and could do nothing about it.
I grabbed one of the bottles that still had alcohol in it from the bedside table and took a drink.
I had made sure to eat today before starting my rounds of medicine, so that meant I could pace myself better with the drinking.
The last thing I needed was another night drinking on an empty stomach and waking up the next day with a vague memory of having had the bright idea to walk to the nearby bar for a few beers.
I still didn’t remember what had happened, but I’d woken up with an achy, bloody hand, a black eye and split lip, and a bruise on my cheek that was an ugly, mottled blue and purple.
Nope, all that was left for me to do today was watch bad movies, drink away the roar in my head, and see if I could scrounge up something that might resemble peace and quiet.
A knock on the door interrupted that plan, and I ignored it. I had a do not disturb sign on the door that I was sure the housekeeping staff at the motel were more than happy to observe.
The persistence of the knocking was new, though, and I frowned.
It had to be a particularly insistent worker I’d missed in the past few days, but I continued ignoring them, turning up the TV so they’d get the hint.
And if they used their key to get in, I had the chain on the door as extra insurance for my peace and quiet.
“Milo!” a muffled voice from the other side of the door said. “Come on, I can hear you turning the TV up. Let me in.”
“Marshall?” I wondered out loud before remembering I was supposed to be incognito. Even my hazy brain had to admit that was officially over because I’d opened my mouth in surprise and blurted out that, yes, I was in fact in this room. “Go away! I’m fine!”
“It’s been three days,” he called through the door, sounding exasperated. “Everyone is worried, and you can’t hole up in this room forever.”
“Hole up in this hole,” I said and then snickered. “Tell everyone I’m fine!”
I had turned down the TV to listen for sounds of him shuffling off over the shitty hallway carpet, but instead frowned when I heard another voice with him. It was when I heard the beep of the card reader and the door opening that I sat up in bed. “I said stop! How the fuck did you get a key?”
“It’s chained,” I heard Marshall say, and I cocked my head, trying to listen to who else could be talking, but I could only hear annoyance, not the words, nor could my brain make out a face that belonged to the voice, though it was obviously someone who knew me.
“That’s a fucking clue! A big ol’ hint!” I growled, swinging around and looking for shorts to throw on to yell at Marshall and whoever he’d dragged along.
“One we’re ignoring,” Marshall called back in a voice that was far too cheerful in my opinion.
“Who the fuck is we?”
“Us,” Marshall said, and then in a curious voice. “Huh, will that work? I never thought of doing something like that.”
My hunt for clothes froze when I heard the chain rattle, the door jiggle, and then the soft clatter of the chain again. Eyes wide, I watched as the door moved, and Marshall stepped into the room. He took one glance at me and immediately turned away with a grunt of surprise.
“And he’s naked,” Marshall said with a sigh, his back to me as he stared up at the ceiling instead. “That’s all you.”
“Who’s with you, and why are you breaking into my room?
” I demanded without bothering to continue my search for clothes.
Sorry, but if you break into someone’s private room, you don’t have the right to be horrified or indignant when you find them naked.
If he didn’t want to face the moral and legal issues of breaking into my room, then he could deal with the consequences as far as I was concerned.
Only for my outrage to curl up in a ball in my throat, and lodge there along with horror and shame when it was Raf who walked around the corner to look at me.
His expression was that of a man who was singularly unimpressed at what he was witnessing as he looked me over, and then his eyes scanned the room.
They didn’t linger on any one thing, but they certainly took their time evaluating everything, and the shame was like bile in the back of my throat.
“Holy fuck,” I groaned, finding my pants in a hurry and yanking them on. “Why are you here?”
“Hunting you down,” Raf said casually, pushing past me to grab the remote and turn the volume down.
“How did you even find me? I have my phone off; I can’t be tracked. And I used my own card!”