by B. A. Wolfe
I took a deep breath and tried to give him a smile even though I was scared shitless of what I was about to get myself into. “I’ll be fine,” I assured him as I stepped out of his truck. It was old, rusty, and surprisingly, a comfortable ride.
I watched Jason as he got out and walked to the back. He pulled something over the side of his truck bed, and I immediately recognized the black luggage. I let out a relieved sigh, and shook my head in disbelief as I approached him.
“They pulled it out before they towed your car. I didn’t want you to be without your stuff,” he said, keeping a grip on the handle.
“Jason, thank you, really,” I said, all too eager to have my belongings, and yet ready to cry just seeing something of mine back with me.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “All right, if you’re ready for this, then let’s go,” he said, motioning with his head toward the front desk office.
I wasn’t sure, but I also wasn’t an idiot. Staying with him wasn’t in the cards for me.
“Hey Jeff,” Jason said to the guy at the counter.
Jeff stood to shake Jason’s hand, and gave him a strange look. “Hey man, what are you doing here?”
“I need a room for the night for this one right here,” he said, pointing in my direction. “I need you to do me a favor though. Can you keep an eye on her, please?” He gave Jeff a steady look. I wasn’t sure how to take his protectiveness if that’s what that was.
“Yeah, of course man,” Jeff grabbed one of the silver-plated keys from behind him and laid it on the desk. “That’s one night.”
I walked up to the counter. “It could be more than one night. I’m waiting for my car.”
“It’s only on a one-night basis, so just come back tomorrow, and we can book it for you again,” he said.
After paying for my one night and taking my key for room number eight, Jason grabbed my luggage, and we headed for what could possibly be the most frightening room I’ve ever stayed in.
“Is this one of those small towns where everyone knows everyone?” I asked as we walked side-by-side.
“You could say that. I grew up with Jeff. We graduated high school together. His parents own this motel and make him work it for the most part. He’s a good guy.” He unlocked the door with my tagged key. “Here we go,” he said as he opened the door for me.
When I flipped the light switch so I could see, moths flew around over our heads and then out the open door. “Gross.” I shivered as I walked in further. The old motel smell made me want to pass out, but I figured I could keep the window open to let fresh air circulate. The bed to my left appeared okay, at least on the outside anyway. A beat-up dresser with a small television on top that had rabbit ears poking out of it sat beside the door. I continued to the bathroom crammed in the back corner, peeked in it, and all but ran back to where Jason stood. “Holy crap,” I said cringing.
“You are braver than I gave you credit for, Cassandra.” Jason walked in the room, setting my luggage on the floor. “I feel terrible for leaving you here.”
“I’ll be okay,” I said, peering around the room, but not believing a word of what I’d just said. This was my only option, aside from staying with a complete stranger. The latter was certainly not happening, even though he was amiable and I felt safe with him. I knew what happened when I let my guard down. I didn’t need to backtrack.
“Alright.” He raised his brow as he walked over to the nightstand, writing something on the notepad. “Here’s my cell number, call me if you need anything. I only live about ten minutes away. Seriously, if you need anything, just use the motel phone.”
I took the ripped piece of paper he handed me. “Thanks.” I knew I needed it so I could talk to him about my car, but that’s as far as it would go.
“I mean it, anything,” he said as he walked to the door, resting his hand against the frame. “Can I get you something before I leave? Dinner?”
“No, I’m not hungry at all, but thanks for offering. I think I’m ready to get some sleep,” I admitted.
“I’ll keep you posted about your car,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, thankful that I would get to see him again, but feeling like a mixed up basket case for not trusting him. I was a freaking mess.
“Goodnight Cassandra,” he said quietly before closing the door and walking away.
Yeah, right. Goodnight in this place was going to be hard to come by. I locked the door after he left and walked over to the bed. I drew the covers back and found exactly what I’d pictured… Stains. Gross. I pulled the covers back over the bed and decided to sleep with a towel over me instead. I walked into the filthy bathroom, quickly grabbed a towel, and ran back to the room like a scared child. I put on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt and was ready to get some rest. It had been an unusually long day between the long drive, the accident, and the hospital. Too exhausted for continued thinking, I let my brain off the hook and laid down on the hard mattress. As I pulled the towel over my body, I noticed my feet were going to be hanging out all night. Great.
I gently laid my sore head back onto the pillow and blinked my eyes a few times. I was right. Sweet dreams were extremely hard to come by in this place, but I tried. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
Based on the way I felt the next morning, I’d gotten only a few hours of sleep at the most. Between the noises, the creaks, and the foul smell, I didn’t know which was worse. That was, by far, the worst night’s sleep I’ve ever had. The morning sun shone brightly through the yellowed curtains, and I decided to give up on trying to get any more sleep.
I ripped the towel off of me and was about to put my feet on the floor and there it was. Staring back at me as if I were invading his turf was an oversized, nasty, grey rat. “OH MY GOD!” I screamed as I jumped up and stood on the bed, unsure of what to do if he were to start climbing up. I let out another loud scream as it raised itself up with its beady little eyes staring, making it scurry off under the bed. This was even worse; now I couldn’t see the damn thing.
I jumped off the bed and collected my belongings faster than I even realized I could. I threw on a jacket before making a mad dash for the door, slamming it behind me.
“Holy shit, that was gross,” I said breathlessly. I took a moment to compose myself, and to think about what to do next. I was not going back into that room. That was for certain.
“Are you looking for a place to stay yet?” I heard his familiar voice from afar. I peeked over the railing, and there he was standing with his arms crossed, wearing a sexy grin, faded jeans, and a tight white tee.
“I don’t know whether to think you’re a creeper for being here or thank you for being my savior and hug you majorly,” I shouted over the railing.
“I’ll take being a savior and a hug,” he said, giving me an approving smile. “I was driving by, heading back from checking on your car and I thought I’d see if you were finally ready to give in and stay with me,” he yelled back. I could hug this man.
“Yes and yes. I’m so ready to get out of here. I have my luggage already behind me,” I said, ready to make a dash down to him.
He unfolded his arms and headed my way. “Stay there. I’ll come grab it for you,” he shouted.
“No need, I walk fast. Let’s just get the hell out of here, please,” I said, practically running to him.
He grabbed a hold of my luggage and grazed his hand on top of mine before I let go. “I tried to tell you,” he said.
“Yeah. Next time I’ll listen. I’d rather take my chances on being killed than ever have to experience that again,” I said, relieved to be out of that hellhole.
Four
THE RIDE TO HIS HOUSE was short. When I commented that I was used to seeing stoplights on every corner, he told me that there was only one in town, and we wouldn’t go through it. We pulled up to a cream-colored ranch style house. The lovely wraparound porch had a swing to the left of the door and two rockers to the right. Jason drove his truck onto the gravel drivewa
y that was in front of a two-car detached garage.
“We’re here. Already looking better, huh?”
“You have no idea,” I said, relieved to see this beautiful house and not a neon vacant sign.
Jason parked the truck and quickly stepped out. I didn’t even have an opportunity to let myself out. He opened my door and put his hand out for me to hold as I slid off the seat.
“A little higher than my car, sorry,” I apologized.
A small smile played on his lips as he continued helping me out of the truck. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute,” he said quietly.
Yeah, real cute, I’m sure.
Once I was out, he closed the door behind me, guiding me to the front of the house.
Just as I’d expected, the inside was quaint and country. The living room was to my right and a small dining room decorated with red apples was to the left.
“Your house is really nice,” I said in awe of its homey feel.
“Yeah, it’s a good house. Small, but it works for us. We’ve lived here since I was a baby.”
I had never been in a house that long; my family moved all the time. They were extremely ‘keep up with Jones’ type people. This house was cozy, and I liked it.
“This way Sweetheart,” he said, grabbing my luggage and leading us down a small hallway.
There were four doors, all closed. He let go of my hand and opened the first door on the right, showing me a bathroom.
“Obviously, it’s a bathroom,” he stated with a soft laugh. I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. This was quite the tour I was being given.
He walked away, leaving the door open, and led me to the second door on the right. We walked into a small bedroom with a queen size bed, a short dresser and a nightstand to complete it.
“This will be your bedroom,” he said, placing my suitcase next to the dresser. He walked over to the closet doors on the left of the bed and pointed at them. “You can put your clothes in the closet or the dresser, whichever you prefer.”
The closet? How long was I going to be here? I took another glance over the room. It was small, but it had a warm feeling. I particularly liked the peach colored quilt that covered the bed.
“Will this work for you?”
I turned my eyes to him. “Yes. It’s perfect,” I assured him.
A satisfied look took over his face as he walked to the door. “Good, then I’ll let you settle in, and then meet you in the kitchen. It’s just through the hall and to your right,” he said. He dropped his head a little and arched his brows. “Make sure to use my directions and not a GPS though.”
“Get out,” I said, pointing to the door, trying to hold back my smirk.
He laughed and shut the door behind him. I looked around the room, but not a single mirror was in here. That could be a good thing. I didn’t even want to see the mess staring back at me.
I opened my suitcase and pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I slipped my clean clothes on and immediately felt ten times better. I dug a hair tie out of my make-up bag and pulled my hair into a messy bun. I wasn’t one for messy anything, but with the state that my hair was in, messy was my only option. I just hoped my hair was still blonde and not dyed red from any blood that was on my forehead.
I zipped up my suitcase, contemplating if I should actually hang up my clothes. With no idea exactly how long it would take to get my car back, feelings of anxiety swept through me. I had no clue what was going to happen, when I would be leaving, or how long I would be staying here. I took a few deep breaths to ease my nerves and decided to leave my clothes in their luggage for now.
Closing the door behind me, I walked out of the room and made my way to the kitchen, following the exact directions Jason gave me. I wouldn’t have needed them because the house was small and I would have found the kitchen sooner or later. But seriously, who needs to get lost two days in a row? Not me.
“And she made it without any injuries,” he said, looking up at me from the kitchen table, his hands clasped around a tall blue cup.
“Eh, someone gave me some good directions.” I teased back.
“Good? They were spot-on Sweetheart.” All I could do was shake my head at him.
He stood up from the table and walked over to pull my chair out for me. He missed nothing. I sat down, and he pushed me up to the table. I was relieved to be sitting again; my body was exhausted.
“Something to drink?” he asked.
“Water would be great, thanks,” I replied and within seconds, I had a tall glass of ice water sitting in front of me. Jason sat back down in his chair and took a few sips out of his blue glass.
“So, yesterday at the hospital, you mentioned my being here was okay with your mom. I take it she doesn’t mind a complete stranger staying in her house?” I knew damn well my own mother would never do something like this. His mother was a saint. His eyes found mine, and he looked as though I was missing something.
“You already met my mom, Cassandra,” he reminded me. Unfortunately, I had no clue who he was talking about because I couldn’t recall meeting any mother of Jason’s. I gave him a questioning glance.
“Yes, your nurse, Trish,” he said. “That’s my mom.”
“She is?” I was stunned. No one mentioned anything about those two being related while I was at the hospital. How was I to know this?
“She is. And she’s pretty wonderful, I might add.” You could tell, just from the look on his face, he loved his mother deeply. I wonder if it was him or a sibling who gave her that ‘mom’ necklace that she wore around her neck.
I thought back to how much she helped me and soothed my frazzled nerves at the hospital. “I had no clue she was your mom,” I admitted, now slightly apprehensive to be staying in their house. Trish knew my secret. I didn’t know whether she would approve of a girl like me staying in their house. I dropped my gaze to my hands that held my glass of water.
“Are you sure,” I started to ask him until he interrupted me.
“She insisted,” he answered me without letting me even finish my thought.
“She did?”
“Yes, at the hospital when I was waiting for you. She came out to talk to me, telling me that she didn’t want you to be alone, to see if you would stay with us in our spare room,” he answered.
I sighed in relief and took a sip of the cold water. It felt good running down my throat. It was hot here today. We both sat in awkward silence until I finished my sip of water.
“And your dad? What’s his name? What does he do?” I asked, then immediately regretted it. I just assumed he had a father, and I would feel like the world’s biggest jerk if he didn’t.
“His name is Bart, and he works on the farm,” he said with a distant look in his eyes.
“Oh you guys own a farm?”
“No. We used to own it, but we sold it awhile back and now my dad just helps run it,” he answered.
“Why did you sell your farm?” I asked, intrigued about his life here, I wanted to know more. The small town country life was nothing I was used to. I watched him as he looked at the wall behind me, keeping his eyes steady as he sat there for a moment before answering.
“We just couldn’t keep up with all the work. It had been in our family for a few generations. It was hard, but sometimes there are just things in life that you have to do,” he said quietly. He focused his eyes back on mine, and they looked distressed, like he was bearing something but didn’t want to share.
Trying to divert his attention elsewhere, I changed the subject. “Any siblings?” I asked in a more chipper voice.
“Do you always play 20 questions when you meet someone?” he asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I like to know everything about a person, about a family, especially one that I’m staying with,” I stated.
“Cassandra, that’s just called being nosy.”
I shot him a crusted look and crossed my arms over my chest. “I just wanted to know more about you.”
He held up a hand in front of me. “You’re real inquisitive. I get it.”
I sat there in silence; his tone was getting a little snippy, and felt as though I was crossing a line that I shouldn’t be. The need to know everything gets me in more trouble than it’s worth. He got up from his chair and started leaving the table. Maybe staying here was a bad idea and an even worse decision on my part to accept.
“Have you eaten anything since yesterday?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t eaten anything since before I left for Alamosa, and I could tell it was starting to wear on me.
“You need to eat then. What can I fix you?”
I raised my head up to see him standing in the kitchen. I was more than stunned to hear him ask that. I thought for sure he was ready to help me pack and take me back to the bug-infested motel again.
Unfortunately, the idea of food was starting to make my stomach turn. So much, in fact, that I thought I was going to heave on this very table. I looked over at Jason who had his eyes already on me. They had a look of panic in them, and I contemplated what to do next, shifting my head from him to the hallway. He was getting ready to speak when I decided now was a good time to run again. I dashed from the table and went straight to the bathroom, kneeling before the toilet, and purging up nothing but bile. Nothing was left in my stomach to come up. It was yellow and acidic and burned my throat to the point of tears. I laid my arm across the seat and rested my forehead against it. I reached over for some toilet paper to wipe the streaming tears from my eyes when I saw his silhouette standing in the doorway. He bent down, handed me a towel, and rested his hand on my back.
“I’m taking you back in,” he said quietly. I wiped my eyes first, then took the towel down to my mouth, wiping away any last remnants of bile I could.
“No, Jason, I’m fine,” I tried to convince him.
“Clearly,” he said quietly, in a sarcastic tone. I knew this looked bad to him. I did. There was nothing I was going to be able to say to him though.
He grabbed the towel from my hand and ran it under the faucet. I lowered my eyes back to the toilet I was hugging. Nasty. I immediately flushed the contents down, seeing it was just making me more nauseated. He knelt down in front of me and delicately put his hand underneath my chin, raising my head up as he wiped my face. I closed my eyes, and enjoyed the feel of a cool towel over my face and having someone take care of me. I opened my eyes only to meet his directly in front of mine. I could tell I was going to have to fight this battle of going to the hospital again. I moved his hand down from my chin and began to ease myself up from their toilet that I was certain I’d need to clean up. His hand grabbed a hold of my arm, helping me up.
