Page 25 of Snow Storm

Harley

The spa felta little like a ghost town when Harley made it down there. There was no music playing, and while the lights were on, the silence was eerie and strange.This is how horror movies start, he thought to himself as he approached the desk.This is how naïve, jackass white boys like me get murdered by resentful ghosts of dead massage therapists.

He half considered just leaving, but he looked down and realized there was a note propped up beside the business card tray that had his name on it. His fingers felt a little stiff as he picked it up and unfolded it to reveal neat cursive.

Harley,

I’m running a few minutes behind. Please get yourself comfortable in room two. There’s a robe, and the bed is set for you. I’ll be in as soon as possible.

Daniel

Everything about the note was perfectly written except the name. That looked strangely…shaky? Almost like a person was writing it for the first time, which was odd because wouldn’t Daniel know how to write his own name?

There was something going on. His stomach did flips, but in spite of his internal red flag warning going off, he walked into the second room and saw it prepared the way it had been before. The table was laid out with fresh sheets, there was a robe on the back of the door, and the temperature was perfect.

There was a small tabletop fountain in the corner that had water trickling over stones, and the faintest spa music was playing from somewhere. He wanted to stay alert, but damn it, he was exhausted, and the guy—Daniel or whoever—haddone a good job on his back.

Nothing about it had seemed strange.

So maybe he was just reading into things. Maybe he was looking for conspiracies or lies where there weren’t any.

Or maybe the guy was a ghost, and Harley would have to suck it up because he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get treatment like this anywhere else. He supposed, at the very least—assuming he survived—he could turn this into a book.

Closing the door, he ignored the feeling of being very exposed and stripped down. The warm air felt good on his skin, and the sheets were extra soft as he lay on his belly and put his face in the little padded hole. His entire body felt boneless after adjusting the sheet to cover his ass, and his breathing evened out.

If he wasn’t careful, or if Daniel took too long, he was most definitely going to end up dozing off.

Harley had no idea how long he’d been lying there in a daze, but he jolted when the door opened, and he sat halfway up, his eyes a little blurry. Daniel was holding the doorframe, leaning heavily against it, wearing a tense smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

Harley shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I was plenty comfortable.”

Daniel’s face softened, and he took a few steps in. He looked a little unsteady on his feet, but his expression didn’t change. “I’m happy to see you. I hope you got some good sleep.”

Harley wanted to stay suspicious—maybe even demand an explanation about Fred—but all the protests died on his tongue at the sound of Daniel’s genuine care and concern. “I mean, what even is good sleep these days? But it was better than I would have gotten at home. The massage helped.”

Daniel laughed softly. “That’s good. I don’t think that was my best work.”

“Then I can’t wait to see what your hundred percent is like.”

“You and me both,” he muttered.

Harley frowned. What a weird thing to say. It felt wrong to accuse him of something without proof or reasonable suspicion, but something wasn’t right here. He tracked Daniel as he made his way to the cupboard, and he noticed the man was heavily favoring his right side.

“Are you okay?”

Daniel looked over his shoulder. “Mm?”

“You look like you’re in pain.”

“Ah.” He glanced down at his feet. “Ignore that. It’s an old injury. Please get comfortable. I’m going to get the oils and start on your back. Do you have any problem areas you’d like me to address today?”

Harley bit his lip. Did he give an answer? Or did he demand one? “My shoulders,” he finally said. He was too much of a jellyfish and hated confrontation with a passion. Especially after the whole thing with Ethan. “I feel like there’s a nasty trapped nerve behind my left shoulder blade. Probably from all the tension I’ve been holding.”

“I can imagine. I—ah!” There was a huge crash, and Harley found himself sitting up, the sheet pooled around his naked waist, staring down at Daniel, who was lying on his side. A bottle of oil was lying beside his head, drizzling a small puddle into his hair.

Paying no attention to his nudity, Harley jumped down, kicking the sheet away as he knelt beside the man. He picked up the oil bottle, then offered a hand to Daniel, whose face had gone bright red.

---