Page 113 of Till The Sun Dies (Checkmate 2)

“Not happening. Not a chance in hell, so stop being the martyr. It’ll be fine.”

I follow him along the line of rooms between the wall and already parked cars. Kane carries Jess into the room on the end, slamming the door closed, he makes a point and declares ‘do not disturb’ the way a plastic sign or a sock on the handle normally would.

“This one.” Ang pulls me back when I don’t stop in time for room eighteen. Inserting the key into a shitty lock, he pushes the door open, not noticing the way my heart slams in my chest.

Shitty lock.

Paper thin walls.

Creepy hotel owner.

Tonight’s going to be fucking awesome.

“What are the chances of everyone sleeping in the car?” I follow him in and set my cooling dinner on the rickety table. “I could drive through the night. You guys sleep.”

“No.” He closes the door and pushes the chain into the latch. “You need to sleep, Laine. It’s been a big day, and that guy won’t bother you again, I promise.” He sets his wallet and phone onto the table beside my dinner and turns to look at the sparse room.

One queen bed. One box TV. One mini fridge. Three shitty prints on the walls that weren’t even new in the eighties.

Taking my hand again in a comforting – and so unbelievably confusing – show of support, he leads me toward the only other door in this room; the bathroom.

I peek my head around his broad back and study the tacky tiles – at least it’s clean. The toilet boasts the paper strip that says it’s been cleaned. Toilet roll with the end folded over. One shower stall. One bath.

Ang’s hair falls over his jaw when he looks down into my eyes. “You need a minute to clean up?”

“No.” I step back and run a hand along my opposite arm. “I already went to the bathroom across the road. Do you need a minute?”

I step away to give him privacy, but with a shake of his head, he follows me back into the room.

“No. I’m good.”

It’s dark outside. The honky-tonk bar isn’t noisy yet, which means it’s too quiet, too dark, and my heart refuses to slow.

I sit on the corner of the ugly bed and come to the realization that I’m all alone in a hotel room with Angelo Alesi.

Jess and Kane’s obnoxious giggles begin to filter through the wall, but it’s not enough. In fact, they’d be doing me a favor if they started banging against the wall. Something to smile about. Something to take my mind off the clusterfuck this day has turned into.

This morning, I stood in the in-between where there were no monsters. There was nothing but opportunity and freedom, but every sunrise demands a sunset.

Now I sit in that moment that promises scary shadows and long nights filled with nightmares and grabbing hands.

“Hey.” Ang stops in front of me with my styrofoam dinner. Bending forward so his nose is just half a foot from mine, he lifts one of my hands and transfers the food. “Eat, Laine. Enjoy.” His eyes flicker to my other hand as it spins the crystal. “Does it help?”

“I’m not sure yet.” My voice cracks. “It felt like it was this morning, but now I don’t know. Maybe it’s on the fritz because of the creep.”

With a tic to his jaw, Ang turns away and pulls the knob on the TV. “That dude won’t bother you again. No man will. I’ve got your back.”

I need to stop freaking out, and to do that, I need to get into my pyjamas and relax. I drove for thirteen hours today, and though my body knows I’m tired, my mind won’t stop replaying my Skeeter encounter.

His almost bald head. His thick glasses. His extra hundred and twenty pounds of weight… Ang’s wild eyes.

I crack the styrofoam container open and set it on the bed beside me. “What did you guys do to Skeeter?”

With one shoe off, and the other halfway, Ang stops and glances in my direction. “Who?”

“The creepy dude in the front office.”

“Skeeter.” He snorts. “We did nothing to him, we simply explained that he was a fuckin’ creep and that he has no business talking to either of you girls. We explained in no uncertain terms that if he needs to talk, he can come to me or Bish.”

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