Page 3 of Hiding for the Holidays
My funds were getting extremely low, and only working once every four days wasn't even going to be enough to cover rent next month.
When I first ran, my first stop was to the local ATM, where I withdrew my maximum daily limit of three hundred dollars. Ithen jumped on a bus, and as soon as the clock ticked past midnight, I withdrew another three hundred. I did this for three days, moving from city to city, until he caught up with me.
After that terrifying day, I ditched my phone and didn’t touch my bank account again, unsure of how he tracked me down. Now I’m hiding in Silent Pines, with only a few dollars left to my name until my next payday.
I take a bite of my dry sandwich and resume my coffee-drinker watching. The snow from early this morning didn’t settle, leaving the town snow-free now that the sun has risen and melted any last remains. But it’s still early in December, and there is definitely a chill in the air that my denim jacket does not protect me from. Luckily, the hoodie I wear underneath gives me a little more protection.
I really need some more money so I can buy some more clothes and better bedding. Hopefully, I can find somewhere that’s hiring today. Maybe the café is looking for help? I take a deep breath as I finish my sandwich and pack my leftovers in the backpack I picked up at the secondhand store.
Crossing the street, I decide to take a peek in the café window for any help wanted sign before I head towards Iron Oaks; the gym mentioned in the flyer. When I woke up this morning, scared someone was going to break into my room, I decided I needed to take some sort of action for my protection. I don’t know how to use a gun, nor could I afford one, so the first thing I sought out at the secondhand store was a pocket knife.
The only one I found had a worn wooden handle fitted with brass bolsters that had long since lost their shine. A tiny hairline crack ran through one side, but the blade flicked open with a satisfying snick, revealing steel that had seen better days. But it was better than nothing.
I shove my hand in my coat pocket, feeling its reassuring presence against my palm as I glance at the café windows with disappointment. No hiring sign.
The door opens behind me, and someone walks past. I hear something hit the ground lightly, and glance down. There’s a wallet on the ground, and I bend and pick it up and call to the man who just passed me.
“Hey! Excuse me!”
The large man spins around to face me. His sun-kissed blond hair bounces with the movement as he looks at me. He pushes his dark sunglasses on top of his head as he shifts the tray of drinks he’s carrying to his other hand.
My eyes widen at the sheer size of him. He’s broad through the chest, with a clean-cut jaw and forearms straining the sleeves of his navy Henley.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” His deep voice ripples through me, sinking further with every word. I can almost feel him inside my chest, pressing against the parts of me I try to keep hidden. I look into his warm green eyes, so steady and sure. They instinctively make me want to trust him. But then they dip down to my neck and widen ever so slightly.
He can see my bruises.
I hold out his wallet towards him. “You dropped this.”
He looks down at his wallet and frowns, then feels around his back pocket in surprise. “Oh, damn, thank you.”
He steps forward and takes it gently from me. I nod my head and pull my hood up. Already feeling too exposed, I turn around and start walking away.
“Hey—wait a second! I didn’t catch your name!” he calls after me, but I just move faster. Luckily, he doesn’t follow. The last thing I want is to be noticed. I came to Silent Pines to stay hidden, to be out of sight and out of mind until my ex loses interest in me.
It takes me almost thirty minutes to reach Iron Oaks, and when I’m finally standing out front, looking at the rundown exterior, I start to second-guess my decision to come here.
The gym is located in its own building, surrounded by a decent-sized parking lot that has only two cars and a motorcycle in it. This part of town is a little more sparse, with a Chinese food restaurant across the street, a small plaza on the left and a smoothie place on the right.
A chill goes up my spine, and I slowly turn and scan the street behind me. There are a few people getting into their cars or walking into the stores, but nobody seems to notice me.
Good.
I try to shake the feeling, but it just reminds me what made me come here today. I need to learn to protect myself.
Taking a deep breath, I grab the handle, and step inside before I can talk myself out of it. The clanging of weights and grunts of men exerting themselves mixes with music playing from overhead speakers.
I glance around for the reception but quickly realize there isn’t one. I might not be a regular gym-goer, but I’ve had a few friends drag me out to free trials or classes, and all of them have had a reception desk to check in.
I start to feel out of place as I look around. It looks clean, and doesn’t smell as bad as the outside made me think it would. But it looks like whoever set this place up just threw the equipment wherever they wanted. The treadmills are scattered throughout the space, and there seems to be no specific location for the free weights. Basically, everything was everywhere.
“Hey, are you lost?” A large man in long shorts and a sweaty tank top approaches me with a raised eyebrow. He looks to be in his early twenties.
I take a small step back when he gets a little too close for comfort. “Yes. I mean, no. Not lost, but…” I glance around as if the reception desk might suddenly appear. “Do you work here?” I ask.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, but Grant’s just over there.” He points behind me, to where I can see two men talking. “Grant!” he yells, making me jerk in surprise. “You've got a customer!”
The owner, Grant, turns to face us. He’s toned and holds himself with an air of confidence I wish I had. The man he was talking to steps up beside him, and I recognize him as the man from the café. He whispers a couple of words to Grant as they both stare at me.
