Chapter 6 Damon #3
It’s one of the ones that can be programmed with a new code whenever you want, and I quickly punch in the six numbers I chose when I set the safe up. It pops open, and I pull out my phone, wallet, and the key card.
Leaving my phone and wallet on the table, I close the safe and walk the card back over to where Xave is standing. “Here.”
He takes it, and a strange pulse of electricity dances over my skin as our fingers brush.
“Thanks for this, and for everything,” I say, trying to ignore whatever that was.
“I’d say ‘any time,’ but hopefully that’s the one and only time we get kidnapped together,” he says with a grin.
I huff out a laugh. “Here’s hoping. I’m not sure what your life is like, but that’s about as much excitement as I can handle for a while.”
“I mean, same.” He tucks the card in his pocket. “But knowing me, there’s a high probability I’ll find myself in another bind soon enough. Probably not a ‘getting drugged and kidnapped from a rave’ type of bind, but who knows.”
We stand there for a few beats, just staring at each other. It’s weird, but I don’t want him to go. The idea of being alone right now is freaking me out a bit, and that’s strange as fuck for me.
“Have a good night,” I say before I can do something stupid like ask him to come back after he’s done dealing with everything so I don’t have to be alone.
He tosses me a little smirk. “You too.”
I watch as he pushes the cart out of my room and sink onto the bed as soon as the doors close behind him. I take a few seconds to draw in some deep breaths to center myself.
When I feel a bit more stable, I head over to the minibar so I can get something to drink.
I quickly survey my choices, then grab three of the six bottles of water on the bottom shelf.
I have nothing against tap water, but I don’t feel like spending the next ten minutes at the sink refilling the tiny glasses they provide for drinking, so bottles it is.
Even though I’m starving, I don’t bother with any of the snacks or food in the minibar and bring the bottles to the desk. Then I sink down on the chair as I crack one of them open and ponder my next move.
I need to eat something, but room service isn’t going to cut it right now. I already took a look at the menu when I checked in, and I’m not in the mood for fancy French cuisine that would require me to order a dozen entrées just to feel full.
Having made up my mind, I grab my phone and check my notifications as I guzzle down most of the water in one go. The cool liquid feels good as it slides down my throat, soothing the bone-deep thirst that’s been plaguing me since I woke up in that cellar until it’s just normal thirst.
I might have been away from my phone for twenty-four hours, but I’m not surprised that I only have a text from one of my sisters and another from my only friend at school waiting for me.
I pause drinking and open my texts.
Sophia: how was your show?
My sisters, my lawyer, my business manager, and now Xave, are the only people who know about my alter ego, and Sophia always sends me a text after a gig to see how it went. Thankfully, she only sent the text an hour ago, so she hasn’t had time to worry about me not answering.
Damon: it was good
Damon: did Madalyn apologize yet?
I heard all about the drama between Sophia and her best friend while I was home for Christmas, and while I love my sister dearly, both she and Madalyn love drama the way I love solitude, so they always seem to have some sort of fight or drama going on between them.
When the text has been sent, I open my thread with my friend.
West: remind me again why I thought spending a whole week here was a good idea
He sent the text last night, but the lack of follow-up texts tells me he’s either too busy to notice I didn’t answer, or he’s not surprised I didn’t because I’m not the best when it comes to answering, or even reading, my texts when I’m in a mood.
Damon: because you’re a glutton for punishment and figured it was a good way to prep for the future
Finishing the last of the water, I exit out of my texts and open one of the food delivery apps on my phone and scroll through my options.
I’m in the mood for lots of greasy comfort food that will make me regret all my life’s choices when I’m done stuffing my face, and I scan the menu for a nearby diner that fits the bill.
Once I’ve picked what I want, I put in an order for way too much food, but whatever.
At least I’ll have leftovers for tomorrow and won’t have to worry about venturing out of my room to track down food.
Thankfully I already booked an extra late checkout time, so at least I don’t have to call down to the desk and deal with that because there’s no way in hell I’m getting up early tomorrow.
Once my order goes through, I give the site a chance to refresh, then check the progress to see if I have enough time to take a shower while I wait.
The app says it’ll take about forty minutes, so I take my phone and the mostly finished water, along with a full one, into the massive bathroom so I can shower off the last twenty-four hours, and like Xave said, forget they ever happened.