Page 56 of Little Sunshine

As badly as I wanted to flop down on the bed or an armchair or even the lush rug, I needed a shower.

Badly.

I was covered in dirt and grime and hands.

A shudder rocked through me as I hurried into the bathroom. Rather than the cool, peaceful blues of the bedroom, that echoingly cavernous space was all moody dark blues and grays.

This is way too fancy for a room with a toilet.

Even the shower was needlessly complicated. I turned and twisted various knobs like I was trying to crack a safe. I was close to settling for a gross scrub down from the sink when the water kicked on.

From the showerhead, plus multiple sprayers and a freaking waterfall.

A jet of icy water shot all over me and the floor, and I yelped as I instinctively slammed the etched glass door closed.

Well.

Shit.

Climbing into a cold shower was less than ideal. But so was the idea of letting water spray all over the pristine bathroom while I fiddled with the controls.

Ash probably wouldn’t care about the water spots, but I would.

At the thought, an idea formed.

When I’d agreed to go home with Ash at the hospital, it wasn’t because I needed someone to take care of me.

I could—and had always—done that myself.

It definitely wasn’t because I was desperate to spend time with the bossy behemoth.

It wasn’t even the promise of cake—though that’d been a perk.

I’d agreed because those douchebags from the alley had stolen my license. They had my name. They had my address.

The new lock I’d installed was better than the old one, but trying to operate Ash’s shower would slow someone down more than the flimsy door would.

I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t going to be the stubborn, headstrong woman in the action movie. The one who was determined to prove themselves by going alone.

And then promptly being the first to die.

That didn’t mean I would hide forever, but a few days would be smart. Long enough to let things cool off. For them to…

Well, I wasn’t going to say move on since weak assholes like them moved on by targeting a new woman.

Instead, I hoped that while I took a break in a luxurious house, they moved on by getting hit by a car.

Or maybe eating at a cheap buffet, getting food poisoning, and dying from shitting themselves.

Or having a thousand bees swarm and sting their tiny peckers until they died burning, painful deaths.

Whatever way, I was open so long as the result was them leaving me and other women alone.

Although I’d done the smart thing—hopefully—by going with Ash, I wouldn’t be charity. As I grabbed a towel and crawled around to wipe the water spray, my idea turned into a plan.

While I was there, I would clean. It wouldn’t be charity if I was working off my stay.

After I got every drop from the floor, I quickly stripped and dashed into the frozen tundra of a shower. I fiddled with the knobs again, going from icebergs to hell before finally finding a middle ground.

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