by Finn, Emilia
“Ah…” Ang’s eyes flick from me to the windows. “Okay… The Cherry Drop Inn… Are you sure? The girls don’t want something a little fancier?”
“Girls are fine,” Kane answers for us. I know what he’s doing. I know what he’s going to do. “Jessie’s beat, so we’re getting takeout and crashing.” I hate him. “You can keep an eye on Laine, right?”
“Umm…”
I hate Kane Bishop. I hate him with my whole black heart, especially when he pushes Jess out of the booth and stands to leave.
“Sure,” Ang hedges. “I got it. Where’s everyone sleeping?”
“I’m taking Jessie to our room at the Cherry Drop, then I’m locking the door until oh-five-hundred. I’d be more worried about Laine, but you’re here and I know you won’t leave her out in the cold.” He allows a long pause to sit heavily on our group. “Right?”
“Right.” Ang clears his throat. “I’ll keep an eye out. But, like…” He peeks at me, then back to Kane. “The girls bunking, or…?”
“Nope. I’m bunking with Jess. With Jess. On Jess. Under Jess. Behind Jess.”
“Dude! Fuck.”
“Inside Jess…”
Snickering, Jess winks when she catches my eye. “Baby, what do you wanna do? I promised I wouldn’t leave until you were ready. I can bunk with you if you want.”
I feel like the ugly step-child. The unwanted addition.
Jess wants to be with Kane. Kane definitely wants to be with Jess. And Angelo wants to run away.
“I’ll stay on my own, it’s cool.”
“Not staying on your own,” Kane huffs. He shoots a dangerous glare at Ang. “You manning up and taking care of the Twink? Or do I get them both?”
Jess elbows him in the ribs. “You’re laying it on thick, Bishop. Throttle it back.”
“What? I’m on vacation. I wanna spend time with my ‘vacation eyes’ girl. How’m I the bad guy here?”
“Forget it.” I push on Ang’s shoulder until he takes a hint and scoots out of the booth. Standing, I take my purse and keys and turn away. “I’m a big girl, and a year ago, none of you would be fighting over who has to babysit. I’m not suicidal anymore, so you can chill out.”
I walk toward the long counter not at all like Dolly’s truck stop. I’m not hungry, but in theory, I should be, so I’m going to order something oily and delicious, and I’m going to put some fat on my bones.
No need to eat healthy and workout; my three dozen cats won’t care what I look like.
“Can I get a piece of the fried chicken?” I glance over my shoulder and sigh when I find Kane and Ang practically wrestling in the booth. “And some fries. Lots of ketchup. Actually, gravy. Just pour the gravy in till I die of a heart attack.”
The lady behind the counter doesn’t care that I’m attempting suicide by fat consumption. She doesn’t think I’m funny, nor does she give a damn about the two large men fighting in her section twenty feet away. She doesn’t even notice my twin sister standing within kicking distance and lining her foot up.
She simply pops her gum and takes my cash, and five minutes later, delivers a styrofoam container filled to the brim with slopping gravy.
I don’t go back to my table, I don’t even wait for my friends. Instead, I walk outside and climb into the Buick, carefully setting my gravy dinner on the floor, lest it spill and I want to go on a rampage for ruining my seats. I start the car and pull onto the semi-busy freeway, before pulling into the parking lot of the shitty Cherry Drop Inn.
They can share, and I’ll hang out on my own.
The bell rings over my head when I walk into the air-conditioned office with my backpack and dinner. The office is straight out of the eighties, as in, nothing has been changed since then. The cat ornaments hold forty-year-old dust, and the box TV plays infomercials that I wonder if the Cherry Drop specifically recorded just to show on loop in here. I don’t understand what they’re going for. I don’t understand why they’re purposely forgetting that it’s the twenty first century, but whatever. I just want a bed. And privacy.
A long shower and lots of soap.
Fuck.
“Hey there, darlin’.” A man my brain automatically applies the name Skeeter to steps out from behind the tall desk and grins. I definitely need a shower. And a new hotel. And new friends. “That’s your Buick? It’s a damn beauty.”
“Yeah. Can I get a room? Just for the night.”
“Sure. You stayin’ all alone?”
“No.” My senses are thrown into full alert. Skeeter skeeves me the fuck out, and now I remember why I hate men. Why I shouldn’t have left the diner.
Why I shouldn’t have left Jess’ house.
“My friends are just across the way grabbing something to eat. They’ll be here in a sec.”
“Your friends?” He grins salaciously and flicks through a rolodex of business cards. “Your friends gonna be long? Because we got Rosie’s just three doors up, and it’s almost time to close the office. We could head on up to the bar; they got good honky-tonk. It’s a lot of fun.”
“No. My friends will be here in a second, so I just need a room.” I take a shaky step forward. Be cool. Everything’s okay. “Can you be fast? I need to go to bed. I’m exhausted.”
“Been driving long? Where you from?”
“Yup, all day.”
“Can I see your ID?” His thin lips quiver with excitement. No way in a million years am I showing this dude my ID. No way am I giving him my address. “We need it on file. It’s a security thing.”
“No.” I hug my dinner closer to my chest and breathe through the germs skittering over my skin. “I’d like a room. I’d like to pay cash. I don’t wanna go to a bar.” I want my friends.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. No ID, no room.”
“Forget it. I’ll sleep in my damn car.” I turn on my heels and almost jump out of my skin when my eyes meet Ang’s on the other side of the glass.
As soon as he notices my white face, he bites off a curse and storms through the door. “Laine?” He takes my hand the way he did at Spence’s firing range, pulling me into his side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Can you get me a room? I don’t… I don’t wanna show my…” I can’t stop shaking. This Skeeter asshole has officially reduced me back to the scared woman I thought I’d left at home. “I wanna go home.”
At my tear filled admission, his eyes come back to me.
He watches me for a long beat, and his hand caresses mine, stroking my wrist along my now closed scar. His broad chest brings me comfort, until Skeeter coughs up something akin to a hairball and creeps me the fuck out again.
“Alright.” Ang leans in close enough that his lips almost brush the shell of my ear. Half an hour ago, this would’ve reduced me to a puddle of anxiety. I’d triple guess and wonder if he’s flirting. But he’s not. He’s doing what he does best; he’s protecting me. “Go outside to Jessie. Wait for me.”
The bell rings a third time as Kane steps in. The joking guy from the diner is gone, the laughter we shared on our drive, everything, it’s all gone and ruined as he steps in all broad chested and ticking jaw. “Move, Twink. Go wait with Jessie for a sec.”
I turn back to Ang. “What are you do–”
Ang pushes me into Kane’s arms, Kane pushes me out the door into Jess’ arms, and as soon as the heavy glass door is closed, I turn back to find Skeeter stepping back in alarm.
“Come on, Baby.” Jess leads me around the corner of the building until the office is out of view.
“What are they doing?”
“What did he say that made you scared?” We stop and lean against the brick wall. Bugs fly above us, drawn to the light, but led to their death as they get caught up in the extensive spider webs that stretch from the roof. “You walked in there all badass, then you went white and made the guys run through traffic.”
“They ran through traffic?” Gravy spills out of my dinner and oozes along my wrist. Don’t go there. Don’t d
o this. It’s just gravy. Not blood. Not the same. “He was just creepy, and I didn’t like it. He asked me to go to the bar with him. I said no. Then he asked for my ID for room deposit, but I said no to that, too.”
“Good choice. He’s a fuckin’ creep.”
“What are the guys doing?”
“Nothing. They’re just offering up their ID. Creepy ass dude wants room deposit, he can deal with them.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes when something crashes in the office. All I see in my mind is the shitty hula lamp slamming against someone’s head.
But worse, and more accurately, I see a dark club. And gross men who can’t land a girl on their own, so they’d rather pay and force.
Men like Skeeter don’t hook up with girls like me. And I don’t mean I’m vain and think I’m beautiful, but I said no because he creeps me out. He would have creeped me out before Graham ever entered my life, too. So when every last woman says no, men like him turn to clubs like Infernos and take a fist full of cash to buy what they can’t get on their own.
“Hey.” Jess reaches up and swipes a tear from my cheek. “Brush it off, Baby. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re brave and capable. This trip is about freedom. Shake it off, then we’ll go sit in a shitty hotel room and eat your dinner.”
“You’re gonna eat my dinner?” I let out a watery laugh and clutch at my new necklace. I need the healing. I need the boost. “Get your own. I paid seventeen ninety-nine for this gravy fair and square.”
She snorts and pulls me in until we touch from toes to chest. “I won’t make you share your gravy, but I’ll send one of the guys over to bring back more.”
“Can you send Ang?” I’m so ashamed of myself. That poor man has been nothing but kind to me, and because I’m too cowardly to face him, I send him away. “This trip might have been a mistake.”
“No, that creep inside was a mistake. But don’t sweat it; he won’t creep on anyone else ever again. You’re a hero, Baby, because the second you stepped into this place and brought down the wrath of those guys, you made sure that fat shit won’t ever be a weirdo with another chick again. You’ve saved countless other women the trouble of him and his skeezy pick-up lines.”
“I’m a shitty person. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He didn’t back up when you were uncomfortable. We could see from across the damn highway you didn’t like him.”
“If he was a hot guy, everyone would think he was just flirting, but because he’s ugly and weird, it’s not okay?”
“I don’t care if he’s the next Sexiest Man Alive. He creeped you out. A real man would see that and he’d back the fuck up. Don’t be sorry for how you feel.”
The bell rings, announcing the guys’ return.
Ang rounds the corner of the building and says nothing about his red knuckles. There’s no talk of the crash we heard, or the wild look in his eyes.
“All fixed. We got two rooms.”
Kane stares into my eyes and doesn’t make mention of the death grip I have on his girlfriend. “Two rooms, side by side. I was being a jerk in the diner, I’m sorry. You girls can shack up if you’d prefer.” He presses a key into my hand and nods in submission. “Hell, all four of us can stay in one room if you wanna. I’ve never had a slumber party before. This is your choice, Twink. You choose which room you want, and the rest of us will make do.”
“Were there no spare rooms?” My eyes dart from Ang’s, to Kane’s, to Jess’. “We can’t get three? I’d feel bad about splitting you and Jessie.”
“No spare rooms. They got some line dance shit going on, so this place is all full now that we got the last two. Girls can bunk, boys can fight over the bed. The other one can sleep in the fuckin’ shower.” He turns to a silently brooding Ang. “I’m faster than you, motherfucker. I’ll shoot out your kneecap, then you can sleep in the ER.”
“It’s fine.” I step away from Jess before Ang can respond. Or before they can argue over who has to babysit me. “I’m sorry you guys have to negotiate rooms. I don’t wanna split Kane and Jessie up, that’d be shitty of me, so I can sleep in the car. I’ll pull the roof up… It’ll be fine.”
Ang scoffs. “No. Let’s go.” He points at Kane. “Don’t make it weird. If I hear anything through those paper walls, I’m gonna shoot your dick off. Keep it in your pants, Bishop.”
“Nah.” Kane lifts a still wary Jess into his arms and swings her around. “I love keeping it in hers.”
Normally, she’d squeal when he tosses her around like this. She’d laugh and kick her legs out, then she’d make moaning noises when his lips drop to hers and remind her why being a Neanderthal is sexy.
But that’s not how it goes tonight.
Standing in the dark under a shitty light that attracts all the flying bugs, her eyes remain on mine. “Baby?”
“It’s fine. Go. Be quiet when you do it.”
Ang’s nose scrunches with distaste. “Or just don’t do it.”
“We’ll be out in the morning–”
“Oh-five-hundred,” Kane interjects. “Not a minute later. Tomorrow night, we sit on the beach. I’ll buy you ladies a margarita and we’ll toast to being fuckin’ awesome.”
As soon as they walk away, I drop my chin to my chest and sigh. “I’m sorry, Ang. This is turning out to be a shitty trip.”
“Not shitty for me.” Careful not to knock my gravy to the ground, he pulls my backpack off my shoulder and leads me forward. “Come on, let’s just go.”
“I can sleep in the car.”
“Not happening. Not a chance in hell, so stop being the martyr. It’ll be fine.”
I follow him along the line of rooms between the wall and already parked cars. Kane carries Jess into the room on the end, slamming the door closed, he makes a point and declares ‘do not disturb’ the way a plastic sign or a sock on the handle normally would.
“This one.” Ang pulls me back when I don’t stop in time for room eighteen. Inserting the key into a shitty lock, he pushes the door open, not noticing the way my heart slams in my chest.
Shitty lock.
Paper thin walls.
Creepy hotel owner.
Tonight’s going to be fucking awesome.
“What are the chances of everyone sleeping in the car?” I follow him in and set my cooling dinner on the rickety table. “I could drive through the night. You guys sleep.”
“No.” He closes the door and pushes the chain into the latch. “You need to sleep, Laine. It’s been a big day, and that guy won’t bother you again, I promise.” He sets his wallet and phone onto the table beside my dinner and turns to look at the sparse room.
One queen bed. One box TV. One mini fridge. Three shitty prints on the walls that weren’t even new in the eighties.
Taking my hand again in a comforting – and so unbelievably confusing – show of support, he leads me toward the only other door in this room; the bathroom.
I peek my head around his broad back and study the tacky tiles – at least it’s clean. The toilet boasts the paper strip that says it’s been cleaned. Toilet roll with the end folded over. One shower stall. One bath.
Ang’s hair falls over his jaw when he looks down into my eyes. “You need a minute to clean up?”
“No.” I step back and run a hand along my opposite arm. “I already went to the bathroom across the road. Do you need a minute?”
I step away to give him privacy, but with a shake of his head, he follows me back into the room.
“No. I’m good.”
It’s dark outside. The honky-tonk bar isn’t noisy yet, which means it’s too quiet, too dark, and my heart refuses to slow.
I sit on the corner of the ugly bed and come to the realization that I’m all alone in a hotel room with Angelo Alesi.
Jess and Kane’s obnoxious giggles begin to filter through the wall, but it’s not enough. In fact, they’d be doing me a favor if they started banging against the wall. Something to smile about. Something to take
my mind off the clusterfuck this day has turned into.
This morning, I stood in the in-between where there were no monsters. There was nothing but opportunity and freedom, but every sunrise demands a sunset.
Now I sit in that moment that promises scary shadows and long nights filled with nightmares and grabbing hands.
“Hey.” Ang stops in front of me with my styrofoam dinner. Bending forward so his nose is just half a foot from mine, he lifts one of my hands and transfers the food. “Eat, Laine. Enjoy.” His eyes flicker to my other hand as it spins the crystal. “Does it help?”
“I’m not sure yet.” My voice cracks. “It felt like it was this morning, but now I don’t know. Maybe it’s on the fritz because of the creep.”
With a tic to his jaw, Ang turns away and pulls the knob on the TV. “That dude won’t bother you again. No man will. I’ve got your back.”
I need to stop freaking out, and to do that, I need to get into my pyjamas and relax. I drove for thirteen hours today, and though my body knows I’m tired, my mind won’t stop replaying my Skeeter encounter.
His almost bald head. His thick glasses. His extra hundred and twenty pounds of weight… Ang’s wild eyes.
I crack the styrofoam container open and set it on the bed beside me. “What did you guys do to Skeeter?”
With one shoe off, and the other halfway, Ang stops and glances in my direction. “Who?”
“The creepy dude in the front office.”
“Skeeter.” He snorts. “We did nothing to him, we simply explained that he was a fuckin’ creep and that he has no business talking to either of you girls. We explained in no uncertain terms that if he needs to talk, he can come to me or Bish.”
“Did you hit him?”
“Nope. I absolutely did not hit him.”
My eyes narrow. Angelo isn’t lying… He’s grossly omitting, though. “Did anyone hit him? Does Skeeter bear any markings from your visit with him?”
He grins. “Mm?”
I roll my eyes and begin picking at my food. I’m all alone in a hotel room with the guy I’m somewhat crushing on.
It feels weird now. Weird, because what Graham did to me should have been enough that I never look at a man again. Weird, because looking at Skeeter gave me the heebie-jeebies, even before he spoke to me, and if we’d gone to that honky-tonk bar, I get the feeling most men in there would creep me out.