Page 18 of The Devil's Weakness

That’s when the reality of my situation sinks in, and it pulls me to my knees along with it. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t think straight. I simply sit there with my hand still tangled in my wet hair. Dumbfounded, I’m stuck there for a few minutes, trying to form any conscious thought possible, with no luck. Finally, I get myself together enough to stand and return to my room. I take a quick look around the parking lot to make sure no one is watching me, but I don’t see anyone—just a few cars parked at the other end.

Pacing my room, I try to compose myself and think of my options. There aren’t many.

I’m completely and totally fucked now. God, my fucking car? Really?

Panic turns to anger, and I don’t know if I’m more upset with myself for running or at the fact that my car has been stolen.

What more can go wrong?

Ugh, don’t even ask. I don’t need the universe throwing me another fucking curveball. How am I going to get out of here? It’s not like I can call the police and report a stolen vehicle. You know, thesamevehicle that was involved in ahit-and-runyesterday. I’d be even more of an idiot than I already am if I did that.

Trying to cease my pacing, which makes my anxiety worse, I sit on the edge of the bed. I bounce my leg up and down like a jackhammer, realizing that it’s not helping me to calm down. I need to get outside, get some air, and try to clear my head so I can think like a rational human being.

Deciding to walk to the gas station down the road for some coffee, I throw all of my things back into my backpack and leave the motel room. I don’t want to chance someone breaking in while I’m gone and stealing anything else of mine.

When I’m about halfway down the road, I hear a car approaching from behind me. I look back and see a large black Ford F-350.

Hmm.

There was a truck just like it in the motel parking lot. My imagination runs wild as an ominous feeling sinks into my skin.

Did they just slow down?

Are they following me?

The amount of relief I feel as the truck rolls past me is small. The mammoth of a vehicle towers high in the air, blocking the sun and casting an eerie shadow over me. I stop walking as it goes by and try to sneak a glimpse of who is inside, but I can’t see because of the blacked-out windows. However, I swear I could feel eyes on me as it passed.

Or am I just being paranoid again?

My paranoia is completely reasonable. Who took my car? Was it the Skull? Did they take it so I couldn’t run any further? Is there something even more sinister than them at play here? My imagination takes me to a dark place where a band of mutated humans roam, killing anyone who intrudes on their land, like in The Hills Have Eyes. Chills run up and down my spine at the thought, no matter how ridiculous it is. I can’t wait until I can get back to the motel and lock myself in. I don’t enjoy being out in the open like this. I’m too…exposed.

Five minutes later, I finally make it to the gas station. When I turn the corner and walk to the front of the store, I spot the truck again, parked at one of the pumps across the lot. I stop in my tracks. Trying not to be too obvious, I struggle to see if someone is sitting inside of it. Again, the windows are too dark.

Let it go, Sasha.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I enter the store. I want to look for some shampoo and conditioner and any other toiletries that I didn’t think to bring as I was stupidly fleeing town yesterday. Kicking myself for being the world’s greatest idiot, I peruse the shelves until I find what I’m looking for.

The feeling of being watched comes flooding back while I search the shelf for body wash. As discreetly as I can, I scan the store for anyone who may have followed me in here. Carefully, I turn around to look behind me, but the only thing there is the bathroom, its door slightly ajar.

Forcing a calming breath into my lungs, I turn back around and finish my shopping. Then I grab the largest cup I can find and fill it to the brim with steaming hot coffee. This may be the only thing I’m able to consume for the next day or so since apparently, I won’t be going to a different motel today, and I’ll have to shovel out forty more bucks for a musty concrete cell.

I pay the cashier and throw the bottles of toiletries into my backpack before leaving. Just before I turn the corner to walk the mile back to the motel, I glance behind me once again. The truck is gone. I look around and don’t see it driving away in either direction.

I breathe a little easier on the walk back to the motel.

Stopping by the office on the way back to my room, I don’t see the creepy man and hope today is his day off.

“Hello?” I call out after standing there for several minutes.

“What?” Creepy man pops his head out from the room beyond the desk, nearly scaring the piss out of me. “Oh,hello.”

The salacious tone in his voice upon seeing me is beyond disturbing and terrifying. But next to the men of the Devil’s Skull MC, this man is practically a kitten.

“Um,” I swallow nervously. “I need to stay here another night, but I’m curious if you offer any discounts?”

He blinks a few times before breaking out into a burst of maniacal laughter. As if my question was absurd. It’s a fair question. You don’t know until you try. I mean, IwishI had another option. I don’twantto stay here for another night. What am I going to do,walkto the next closest motel? If I could afford a ride, I’d already be gone.

Do they even have Uber way out here?

---