Page 50 of Your Sharpest Edge
“Yeah.” I agreed, and that’s when I decided to tell the hotel staff I wanted to stay in a room next to them. I needed to somehow find a way to keep her safe tonight if she chose to tell him because he was so worked up.
I needed to get to the hotel immediately.
The dingy hotel hallway was dimly lit, the flickering overhead lights casting uneven shadows on the threadbare carpet that was frayed and stained in multiple places. The wallpaper peeled at the edges, and a faint, musty smell lingered in the air. It was completely neglected and disgusting, and so loud that hearing myself think was nearly impossible. This was not a hotel you’d stop at if you wanted to relax. The door numbers were crookedand some barely hanging on, adding to the overall sense of disrepair.
I saw her as we walked into our rooms, our gazes locking briefly. She knew I was next door. That thought brought relief, and I was grateful that the run-down hotel we were stuck in tonight didn’t ask questions when I told them I needed to be next to Dimitri.
“You gotta wear earplugs tonight, Popov,” Dimitri said with a smirk from the next door.
I didn’t smile, didn’t budge, just threw my bag over my shoulder and walked through my door.
Fuck off.That’s what I wished I had said, but I didn’t.
I turned on the shower and tried so desperately to hear nothing and everything next door. But as night fell, the hallways were quiet and I was walking on eggshells for something to happen, but nothing ever did.
I decided it was best if I tried to shut my eyes since lying in bed and staring at the ceiling wasn’t helping nor was the stench of the hotel. Shouting echoed from down the hallway and even from the parking lot. This hotel wasn’t quiet and restful, but it was one night and we were getting on a plane tomorrow.
As my eyes fell heavy with sleep, moaning came from... the hallway? No. It felt too close to my room. It must be coming from outside. I got up from the bed, annoyed at the thin walls, and walked around to try and locate the source of the noises.
It took me a moment to register that the groans increasing in volume were coming from the wall we shared. I pressed my ear to the paper-thin barrier, straining to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. But there it was—loud, unmistakable moaning noises from their room.
No fucking way. My heart dropped, a sickening twist of betrayal and sadness churning in my stomach. This wasn’t it. This couldn’t be it. The image of them together, intimate andentwined, was a brutal slap in the face, shattering any hope I had clung to. The overwhelming sense of loss and hopelessness consumed me, leaving me standing there, paralyzed with grief and disbelief.
The despair hit me like a freight train, a crushing weight settling in my chest. She was supposed to be breaking up with him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The realization that the sounds were coming from her room sent a cold chill down my spine.
She was just a friend.I had to remind myself. The feeling in my stomach wasn’t because she was having sex with her husband. At least, that’s what I told myself. The feeling arose not because of jealousy over their intimacy but because she wasn’t doing what she said she would.
He wasn’t good to her . . . She needed . . .
Fuck. Nothing was coming out as a complete sentence. I needed to close my eyes and shut this out. If I fell asleep, I would wake up, and she’d tell me she was alone in the room. He went out and was with girls, and maybe she was touching herself...Ugh.
I groaned and grabbed a pillow, shoving it over my ears, but as the clock in the corner ticked, the noises got more frantic. It wasn’t until I heard the soft echoes of her voice that I gave up on trying to sleep.
“Please,” she begged.
This wasn’t a sex thing. I shot out of bed and pressed my ear to the wall again.
There was that same voice again. It was quiet, but it kept repeating the same phrase.
“Please. Please. Someone. Please save me.”
I didn’t even bother throwing on sweats before I ran out of my hotel room in my underwear.
I knocked on the door a few times, and when no one answered, I pounded the wood in a desperate attempt to figure out what was happening.
He was in there with her. Did she tell him?
“Please. Help.” The cries were suddenly louder, followed by a huge crash.
I needed to save my friend. I needed to....fuck.
“I’m right here,” I shouted as I continued to pound on the door, grabbing the phone I remembered to bring and dialing 9-1-1.
Dirks opened the door on the other side of me and looked me dead in the eye. We both knew something was happening, but the piece of shit doors were too hard for me to break down.
“I-I’m calling the police,” I said frantically, unable to feel the air in my lungs.
Dirks nodded as he came over to the door, pounding on it and screaming for Dimitri to open up.
