Page 32 of Lucky Shot
He gives me another disappointed grumble before lifting his noise-cancelling headphones back in place and heading into the house.
“She’ll be fine,” I repeat to myself as I watch Ruby get into her car and back out of the driveway.
10
RUBY
“How did this happen?” Olivia asks, voice filled with indignation on my behalf. We’re on a video call and it’s so good to see her face. “I thought Molly set everything up with the hot hockey player.”
I’m checked into my hotel room, which is as bad as Nick warned me. There are fourteen rooms, hence the name and not the number of murders (at least I don’t think that part is true). However, it looks like the kind of place that it might be true.
“She did. It wasn’t her fault. Somehow the communication got crossed and Nick’s dad agreed for him without running it by his son. Molly had no idea either,” I say, readjusting in a feeble attempt to get comfortable.
There’s no chair in the room and the multi-colored comforter on the bed is polyester and looks like it came from the nineteen seventies. Not to mention it smells awful, like cigarette smoke and a hundred years of dust.
I pulled back the top covers, hoping the sheets would be less horrifying, but it only got worse. I’m not sure if it’s blood or marker or some other red-tinged stain, but there’s no way I’m sitting on the bed, let alone sleeping in it.
I’ve made myself at home on top of a small table. It’s maybe three feet long and two feet wide, but if I curl up tight then I think I can sleep on it. It’s only one night. Tomorrow I’m getting the hell out of here.
“Wow,” Olivia says.
“I know. I can’t believe Nick’s dad thought he would be okay with me showing up randomly on his doorstep.” I’ve known the guy for a day and could predict how well that’d go over.
There must be some reason Nick’s dad rented out the cabin and signed him up to be interviewed, but I can’t guess why. Does it have something to do with him not talking to the media?
“Is Molly going to find someone else?” she asks. “Or did you get what you needed already from the hot hockey player?”
“Will you stop calling him that,” I say with a small chuckle.
“He’s hot. I looked him up.”
I make a noise of disagreement. “He answered some of my questions, but I was hoping to have more time while I was editing for anything that came up during the process.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I will figure it out. And in the meantime, I’ll be back in Lake City. Dinner tomorrow night?”
I can’t stay in this place another night, so despite my reservations about heading home, it’s a far better option than this.
In the corner of the room, movement catches my eye. A very large bug skitters across the floor and disappears behind the bed.Oh god.My skin itches and my stomach churns. Maybe sleeping in my car is a better option.
“Ruby?” My sister calls my name.
“Sorry. I…thought I heard room service outside.” I don’t think my amazing, sweet sister can handle the horrors of this place. I’m very carefully angling the phone away from anything that would set her alarm bells off.
“I said the Mustangs are playing at home again tomorrow night. Flynn isn’t pitching, but it’s hat night. Free pink hats to the first thousand people in the park and all you can drink lemonade. You should come with us. Gigi is going. She misses you. So does Greer. So do I.” She steps out onto the back patio of her house. The sun has set but the last bit of light still streaks through the dark sky.
“I’ve been gone for forty-eight hours.”
“Still true.”
“I miss you too.” And I do, but I’m also disappointed. I wanted this summer to be a clean start for me. And instead, it feels like a continuation of my year from hell.
“Did the Mustangs win tonight? The game was on at the restaurant earlier.”
“They did.” Her voice is filled with pride. “And now he’s out here building a playset for Greer.”
She talks louder now as she slides the door closed behind her. “Ugh. It’s still so hot outside. Enjoy Montana while you’re there. I’d kill for a few days anywhere that I wouldn’t sweat through my clothes. I’m disgusting.”
