Page 4 of Raze

“I’m fine.” I manage to pull together another brave smile.

“You ain’t staying here, are ya?” She balances her hand on her hip and narrows her eyes.

“No. I wish I was. Lack of funds.” I shrug, continuing to look at the choice of pre-packed sandwiches behind the glass.

“Listen, sweetheart, I know a girl in trouble when I see one. Did he beat on you?” She sighs.

“No, nothing like that.” I shake my head. I may be down on my luck right now but I’m not a liar. I’m in the mess I’m in because of my own stupid fault and I won’t make excuses for it.

“You running from someone?” she asks, daring me to lie to her.

“Kinda,” I admit, she seems friendly and is the first person I’ve spoken to since what happened, other than the guy whose bike I ran into at the diner, though that wasn’t much of a conversation.

“Do you need to call someone?” She lifts her phone up from the desk and I nod my head back at her trying hard not to cry. I do need to call someone. I can’t handle this by myself. The problem is I don’t know who to call. I can’t call any of my friends back home, I won’t drag them into this, and I can’t call Kane, he made it very clear how dangerous that would be.

There’s a cell phone in the car but Kane told me only to use it in emergencies. I figure using the phone here would be smart since I don’t plan on sticking around.

“Yes. Yes, please,” I answer her, hardly able to believe that I’m even considering what I’m about to do. I reach into my back pocket and take out the scrap piece of paper with our father’s number written on it. Three years ago when he got released from prison he sent me and my brother a letter, one that told us he could never come back to Sacramento. But he did give us a number to contact him on if we ever needed him.

Kane was so mad at him for what he’d done to the club that he screwed it up in his fist and tossed it in the trash. I waited for him to storm out the house before I retrieved it. I don’t know why I felt like I wanted to keep hold of it. I’ve only ever heard bad stories about the man, but now staring at the faded numbers in my hand I figure they could be my only way out of this mess.

Hearing his voice was strange, I only ever met him once, and seeing as I was only five years old at the time I can barely remember it. He never called or wrote to us while he was in prison. And Kane always told me we were better off without him.

Naturally, he was surprised to hear from me, but he sounded happy, despite the fact I was only calling him out of desperation. He couldn’t tell me where he was and he assured me I’d be in more danger if I came looking to him for protection. What he suggested I do seems just as dangerous to me as it is stupid. But I guess if I could pull it off, it would be kinda genius. Right now, I need protection from the Reapers, and what better place to hide than behind their enemies?

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The receptionist takes the phone from my hand when I step back out of the office she let me use, for some privacy.

“Much better, thanks.” I try to convince her with a smile.

I’d kept the conversation I just had with my dad as brief as possible, and made arrangements to contact him again in a few days. I didn’t have time to argue or doubt the instructions he gave me, and although they come with their risks, right now I see no other option.

“I’m just tired and I could really use a shower.” I look down at myself and feel so scummy. I left Sacramento in such a hurry I only packed three sets of clothes.

“Here, honey.” She reaches behind her and grabs a key from the hook. “The guy from Room 5 checked out an hour ago, the housekeeper doesn’t start till 11. He was a single man and that room has two doubles. Get your head down for an hour and use the shower while you're there.” She winks at me, and I could grab her face and kiss her for all her kindness.

“Thank you.” I take the key from her hand and cling to it tightly as I head for room 5. Inside is nothing special, but seeing the neatly made-up sheets makes me sigh with relief. I slip off my shoes and climb into the bed that hasn’t been slept in, enjoying the luxury of a mattress for a few minutes before I set the plastic alarm clock that’s on the nightstand to wake me in just under an hour.

After my power nap, I take a long hot shower, get dressed, and head back to the reception so I can return the key.

“Feel better, sweetie?” My fairy godmother looks up from typing on her phone when I step inside.

“So much better, I don’t know how to thank you.” I place the key on her desk and smile.

“You're very welcome. I’ve been where you are. Everyone needs a little help from time to time.”

“Do you happen to know where the Dirty Souls’ clubhouse is?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

“I do, but you should know, however bad the trouble you're in is, no good will come from going to that place.” I can tell from the look on her face that she’s worried.

“I can handle myself,” I assure her and when she pins me with a long unsure look I wonder if she’s gonna hold out on me.

“Take a left at the end of this street, follow the coastal road till you see a three-story yellow motel on your left. That’s where you’ll find them.” Her hand darts out and slams over mine. “Just be careful.” She warns, making me wonder if I should reconsider my father's advice.

I nod back at her gratefully, then just as I’m about to head out the door an idea suddenly comes to me. “Are you gonna eat those?” I look at the basket of muffins that are still on the end of her desk and can’t help think that they’d be the perfect apology gift.

“Hell, no, I’ve got six pounds to lose and a very unforgiving dress to squeeze these hips into.” She laughs.

“So, would you mind if I…”

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