Chapter 3 #2
“What if it doesn’t pass before tomorrow? What if we miss the party? What if the storm makes the power go out and we freeze to death?”
He smiled indulgently at me, touching my hand for a second time and letting his thumb linger.
“This is Alaska. They’re expecting this weather. No one is going to lose power because of a little snow.”
A little snow? It must’ve dumped a whole foot of fluffy white stuff since we left the airport.
I was trembling in my seat by the time we pulled into the motel parking lot. A dozen other cars were idling in the lot, their lights piercing through the dark and highlighting the whirls of flakes as they danced in the wind.
It was beautiful, even if I was terrified. I’d never seen more than a few inches of snow, and it never stuck around long enough to enjoy it.
Rhett parked as cleanly as he could with no visible lines, shutting off the car and motioning for me to get out.
“Now we just have to hope there are still rooms.”
A line of grumpy people stood at the front desk, waiting impatiently for the ancient woman running the place to fill out her paper guest book. There was no computer in sight, and the coffeemaker sitting in the corner of the lobby looked like it was from the 80s.
Actually, everything looked like it was from the 80s, right down to the worn carpet. At least it was clean, and it didn’t smell like cat piss. That was the gold standard for motels, as far as I was concerned.
I got a few odd looks as I shuffled around in my oversized coat, busying my hands by making two cups of steaming coffee. It was dinnertime, and this was definitely not decaf, but I needed a warm drink to settle my nerves.
Rhett glanced over his shoulder repeatedly, standing a decent distance from the rest of the people in line as he waited to ask about two rooms. I waved to him, my sleeve flopping back and forth, and he gave me a half-smile.
Damn, that man had such a disarming smile.
There was an edge to his haircut that was almost military, but the loose, dark strands on top softened it.
His eyes were hard as he stared down the curious people standing in front of him, who were probably as taken aback by his unusual stature as much as I was, but I knew when he wanted to, he had this good mannered small town charm that could probably get him a free room.
As long as no one noticed he was a shifter.
I was starting to feel more offended about that. What did a guy like Rhett do to deserve that kind of discrimination, other than make scary werewolf eyes when he was feeling horny?
I snorted to myself, getting another weird look from a put-out woman who was sitting in a lime green chair and tapping furiously on her phone.
That reminds me…
I tugged my own phone out of my pocket to see several missed calls and a slew of text messages from my sister. The first was a general check of my well-being. By the sixth, she was becoming unhinged.
Victoria: Did you catch your flight?
Victoria: I’m going to take your lack of response as a “yes.”
Victoria: I saw your flight landed twenty minutes ago. Did you find a decent hotel yet?
Victoria: Satellite weather prediction says there’s a storm headed your way. Are you at your hotel?
Victoria: Please tell me you’re not driving in those conditions.
Victoria: Alaska has a higher rate of missing persons than the national average. Don’t be one of them, Angie.
Victoria: Answer your phone or I’m getting on the next flight to Fairbanks.
Shit! Vicky didn’t make empty threats, and unlike me, she had the means to buy another plane ticket.
I swiped to return her call. A picture of Vicky wearing a tiara that said “birthday girl” and scowling harshly filled my screen.
“What the hell, Angie? I’ve been calling you for an hour!”
I held the phone away from my ear with a wince. She could be so loud sometimes.
“Sorry, my phone was on vibrate. It’s been a stressful day.”
“For both of us, thanks to you. Human trafficking is still a concern in Alaska, y’know.”
I would laugh, except I knew my sister was serious. If there was a statistical risk of danger, she was an expert on it.
“I didn’t mean to worry you.”
Vicky sighed heavily on the other line. “I still don’t understand why you have to do this.”
“I need closure.” I need to know why.
What did I do wrong—or what was wrong with me?
“Where are you right now? Please tell me you aren’t in some creepy motel.”
I considered lying to her, but there wasn’t any point. If she caught a whiff of my dishonesty, she would probably triangulate our call and find my latitude and longitude within the hour.
I couldn’t blame her for worrying. We grew up in the same household, and where I became unattached and escaped, Vicky became overly cautious and reserved. I just wished she would lighten up sometimes.
“Actually, it’s not creepy. The decor is…retro.”
“When are you going to see Evan? Did you tell him you’re in Alaska?”
“No way, that would defeat the purpose of surprising him on his doorstep and making him look like an ass.”
“Someone is going to look like a fool, Angie. I’m worried it’s you.”
“Well, you’re wrong,” I snapped. Cooling my temper, I added, “Anyway, it won’t be me because I’ve got a hot new boyfriend and he’s going with me to confront Evan. After I meet his mother, of course.”
My sister spluttered on the other line. Any normal person would have said, “What the fuck?” But when she finally found her words, Vicky only murmured, “That is such a great way to become one of Alaska’s above-average missing persons!”
Man, she was really hung up on that one.
“He’s way too polite to be a creeper. Oh look, here he comes, gotta go!”
Her voice echoed from the speaker on my phone. I ignored her, pressing the red button to hang up and pouring copious amounts of French vanilla creamer into both paper cups of coffee.
My sister’s face appeared on my screen again. I denied the call. Seconds later, a message notification trilled.
Victoria: Send me the address!!!!
There was an angry emoji follow-up. This wasn’t going to be the last I heard from her.
At least I had someone watching my back.
I sipped my coffee, letting out a groan, as Rhett approached me with an uncertain expression.
“Everything alright?” He jerked his chin toward my phone.
I stuffed it back into my pocket. “Just checking in with my sister. She wants to know your mom’s address so she can cyber-stalk you and make sure you’re not a serial killer.”
Rhett nodded seriously. “That’s smart of her.”
“Thanks for not denying that you’re a serial killer.”
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Good news, please.” I handed him his paper cup. He sipped it, his frown deepening. “I’m going to have to see a dentist after this.”
“The coffee tasted like motor oil. I improved it. You’re welcome.”
He swallowed another mouthful, grimacing. “The good news is that every room comes with free dinner.” He lifted a plastic bag to show me a crumbled package of generic vanilla crème cookies and a bag of Fritos. “The bad news is that they only had one room left.”
“And…?”
“And it only has one bed.”