Hello, again! This is another continuation from the May to December Contest. There will be eight additional chapters, nine total, and a short epilogue. The chapters will be posted every day for the next nine days. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2
The clock on the nightstand reads 7:00AM. My body is demanding more sleep, but my mind is so cluttered I can't shut it off.
The few hours of sleep I got were restless, with flashes of Edward and then James. The latter is what woke me. I was a sweaty mess wrapped up in twisted sheets when I finally came to and remembered where I was. It took me a moment because the hotel room was pitch black, a lot like my bedroom at the apartment. But when it finally dawned on me, a bit of relief washed over me. I was safe… for the moment.
Yesterday was a blur of landscape changes, smelly people, napping in bus seats, and a feeling of dread that I couldn't keep from creeping up on me. It took nearly an entire day to get from Dallas to Phoenix, and my mind went back and forth the entire time—scared that James was following me, worried that he'd find me, and a glimpse of happiness the farther the bus drove away from Dallas. There was a moment in Albuquerque when I thought about hopping on the next bus back to Dallas because I thought that if I went back quickly enough, I could pretend like I'd been with Edward all night and day. James would've believed that. Maybe. But I didn't. I kept going.
I know I did the right thing by running, by getting out, but right now, I'm scared to death, and I'm confused. I feel completely alone and lost. But alone and lost is somehow better than trapped and used.
I wonder what James is doing right now. Does he realize I'm gone? I'm sure he does, and the thought makes my stomach drop, twisting into a knot on its way down. I know he won't let me go easily. He thinks I'm going to turn him in. But truthfully, if he'd just let me go and promise to never come after me, I'd keep my mouth shut. One time, when I didn't come home when he thought I should, he freaked out on me. He yelled and screamed, pushing me up against the wall, telling me that if I ever thought about leaving, he'd kill me. I know he'll come looking for me, and it scares me to think about the what-ifs.
What if he finds me?
What will he do if he does find me?
What if he goes after Edward?
A shiver runs down my spine, and I roll over in the soft comforter, seeking its warmth and protection.
Early this morning, when the bus made it to Phoenix and I realized where Edward was putting me up, I felt like jumping in a taxi and finding the closest roadside motel. It would've suited just fine, but here I am in a luxury hotel, under Edward's orders. According to him, it's safer here. He's right. I know he is. But I don't want to feel any more indebted to him than I already do.
How will I ever be able to pay him back?
I know he said I should look at this as a favor to him, but it's impossible. This whole situation feels impossible, but I have no choice but to keep breathing, put one foot in front of the other, and hope that everything will work out in the end. Even though I can't see it yet. A random piece of wisdom my dad used to tell me comes flooding back into my mind: This too shall pass. But when it does pass, where will it leave me?
I swallow thickly, thinking about all the different ways this could end.
My hand under the pillow grips the phone that I've held on to like a lifeline since I left Edward at the bus terminal. He texted me once along the way to tell me where to go once I got to Phoenix, but I haven't actually talked to him. I haven't heard his voice. I'd like to, but I'm afraid my resolve would crumble. I'm not sure how I allowed myself to feel so much for him in the few hours I was with him, but I did. His voice. His touch. I've spent the last day and a half craving everything about him. I texted him last night to let him know that I made it here and was able to check in without any troubles.
I pull the phone from under the pillow and press the button to illuminate the screen. There's one unread message, sent a little after five o'clock this morning.
Thank you for letting me know you made it. Call me for anything, and don't hesitate to use the credit card I gave you. If you have any problems, call me immediately. I'll be in touch. Please be safe. -E
The mere idea that he's concerned about me and that he's taking care of me kills me. My eyes sting, and my throat clenches as I try to fight back the tears.
I've got to figure shit out. Edward has been so kind… too kind. The kindest person I've ever met, really. But I refuse to take advantage of his kindness, which is exactly why I'll be finding somewhere cheaper to stay today. The only time I've ever stayed at The Ritz is when I've been with someone I was swindling, seducing, or manipulating, and I'm done with that way of life.
I type a response to his message.
I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I can't stay here. I'll be checking out today and finding a cheaper place to stay. I'm also going to look for some sort of work today, so I'll hopefully be able to pay you back in the near future. Thank you for everything. -Bella
All I have to wear is this fluffy white robe, a shiny gold dress, and Edward's pajamas. So, top of the list is Wal-Mart for a toothbrush and some real pants.
I know I'll have to get out of this bed to make all of that happen, but I'm going to steal away a few more minutes of ignorant bliss before I'm left to face the harsh reality that waits just outside.
After I shower and dry my hair, I feel more human, but when I step out of the bathroom and remember what my options are, I almost decide to not leave the room. Normally, I couldn't give two shits about what I look like, but I'm in this fancy hotel. I know people are going to stare at me, and I really don't want to draw attention to myself. But if I don't leave the room, I'll never be able to figure things out for myself. And if I don't figure things out, I'll never be able to pay Edward back.
Catch-22.
It seems like I'm always stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I opt for Edward's pajama pants and t-shirt because there's no way in hell I'm wearing that stupid dress. I consider just going barefoot, but then I come up with a better idea. Stepping into the hall, I look down both ways, remembering that there were housekeepers by a little earlier. When I see a cart at the end of the hall, I slide the lock out to hold my door open and hurry down to the open door.
I knock twice on the open door. "Excuse me."
A shorter lady with her dark hair in a bun pops her head out of the bathroom. "Can I help you?"
"Uh," I start, immediately blushing because I feel ridiculous. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but all I have to wear are these," I say, holding up the gold sparkly shoes. "Is there any chance I could trade you for your shoes? I'd even be willing to throw in twenty bucks." I hold up the shoes in one hand and the twenty-dollar bill in the other.
At first, I think she's going to tell me no, but then I see the intrigue. Her eyebrows rise, and a small smirk forms. She walks past me and looks down the hallway before walking back in the room. "You've got a deal." She smiles as she slips her shoes off and tries on one of mine. Perfect fit. She takes the other shoe off, and we make the trade.
I slip into the shoes and tie the white laces, sighing in relief. Damn, these are really comfortable. I probably should give her more money because those shoes she just traded me for feel like steel compared to these. But I don't want to give her a chance to change her mind, so I hightail it down to my room. I glance at myself one last time in the full-length mirror—rolled-down pajama pants, tied-up t-shirt, chunky white therapeutic shoes, and a glittery gold clutch. I'm a hot mess. But at least I'm a hot mess who's not taking James' shit anymore.
I get a taxi to take me to the closest Wal-Mart, and I pay him twenty bucks to wait on me. My shopping trip is quick. I hit the clothes first, grabbing a couple pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, a package of underwear, and a bra. Next, I fly through the hygiene aisle, grabbing some tampons, toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. My last stop is to get a bag to put all this shit in and a cheap pair of tennis shoes. Looking into the basket, it's hard to believe this is the extent of my possessions, and they're not even mine… technically… not until I can pay Edward back.
While I'm standing in line at the check-out, I'm kind of grateful for all the stupid stuff they put up there to try to get you to buy shit at the last minute. I'm able to grab some snacks and some tylenol and some chapstick… and a five dollar pair of sunglasses. There. That should do me for a while.
Running back out of the store, I'm grateful to see the taxi still sitting by the curb. When I climb back in, he asks if I'm headed back to The Ritz, to which I reply no.
I'm not going back there. It's frivolous, and even though I'm using Edward's money, he can't tell me what to do.
"Can you take me to the Comfort Inn off of Interstate 17?"
"So, I pick you up at The Ritz and drop you off at the Comfort Inn?" He eyeballs me from the rearview mirror. "I can only think of one thing that would have you at The Ritz and the Comfort Inn during the same day."
"It's not like that."
He laughs, and it's kind of menacing. It makes my skin crawl. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."
I don't respond. I feel like anything I say could be misconstrued, and I don't want to engage with him. He's creeping me out.
When he pulls up in front of the motel, I don't even let him put the car in park before I'm throwing my cash over the seat and bolting out the door. On the drive over, I put all of my new belongings into my bag, so I toss it over my shoulder and walk into the front office. I can see from the reflection of the window that the taxi is slowly pulling away.
I let out a deep breath when I'm inside. "One room, please."
"How many days will you be staying with us?"
"Uh, I don't really know."
The lady on the other side of the counter looks me up and down. "Do you have a credit card?"
"Uh, I was hoping I could just pay cash."
"Well, we like to have a credit card on file. For incidentals."
"Um, okay. This is my boyfriend's credit card," I say, slipping the card out of my sparkly gold purse. I was hoping I could get by without it, but I guess if it's just on file and I don't actually charge anything to it, then it's okay.
There won't be any incidentals.
"Is your boyfriend with you?"
"Uh, he's…" I'm getting ready to say he's outside, but I swallow thickly as she watches me. I lie all the time. Why can't I lie right now? "No, he's not. But he will be." Still a lie but easier to tell. I mean, he could be.
"I can't take the card without him here. He could fax a copy of his I.D. I've done that before."
"No. That's okay. I don't want to, uh… bother him. But I have cash. And I could give you enough for… incidentals," I say, trying to convince her to just let me have the room. "Please." I take the large wad of cash out of my purse and show it to her. After my shopping spree and taxi fare, I have four hundred and forty-three dollars.
"The room is fifty-nine dollars a night. Without a credit card, I'm going to need you to show me some ID and put down a two-hundred-dollar deposit."
"I can do that," I tell her, nodding my head, feeling relieved. I hand over my driver's license and count out two hundred and sixty dollars. I'm going to have to find a job, or I'll be out of money by the end of the week. I put the remaining money and the credit card into my sparkly purse, silently praying that everything will work out.
I deserve to catch a fucking break.
The lady, Brenda, gives me my room key and tells me there's a continental breakfast every morning from six to nine. I already know that. It's why I picked this place instead of the dump down the road. At least with the continental breakfast, I won't have to worry about buying food.
When I finally get to the room, I close the door behind me and walk over to the bed, sitting down and immediately taking in the differences between this place and where I stayed the night before—cheap blanket, hard mattress, small room, tiny table with a chair, old television on a fake wood chest of drawers—but at least it's clean, and it's not James' apartment… and I don't feel like I'm using Edward.
I'm lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, just allowing my mind to wander, when a ring comes from my bag.
Shit.
I dig in the bag, coming up with the phone, and nervously answer it. "Hello?" My voice is shaky, but I can't help it. It shouldn't be anyone but Edward, but something inside me is worried that James has already tracked me down.
"Isabella?"
Edward.
He doesn't sound happy.
"Yes?" I ask, the nervousness reappearing.
"You checked out of the hotel. Why?"
"I, uh. I told you that I was going to find somewhere more reasonable to stay."
"Did you not get my reply?"
Oh, shit.
"N—no, I didn't get it."
"Well, if you had checked your phone, then you would've known that I wanted you to stay put." The irritation in his voice is palpable. He's mad at me.
"I'm sorry. I just figured…"
"Where are you?" he interrupts.
"I'm at, uh, the Comfort Inn."
He growls into the phone. "That is not a good idea, Isabella."
"Wh—why? Did James call you? Is… Is he looking for me?"
"You need to relax. You're a ways away from Texas."
"But he's looking for me, isn't he?" I know he is. I can feel it. I can feel it in Edward's voice. I can feel it in my soul. I knew he would.
"Isabella, please. Just go back to the hotel. I told them you would be checking back in."
"I can't."
"Yes, you can. Do you want me to call a car for you?"
"What?" I ask incredulously, my voice rising. "No!"
"Then I need you to go back there. I can't protect you at the Comfort Inn." He says the name of the hotel like it's a dirty word. "Do you understand? I need you somewhere safe. The Ritz is safe. There is hotel security, and I know people there. The Comfort Inn is not safe."
"What did he say?"
"I don't want you to worry about that."
"But I am! It's me… It's my life! I'm worried every second."
He exhales deeply into the phone but doesn't respond.
"I'm sorry I got you involved in this," I whisper. Suddenly, I'm even more worried about Edward. I know how crazy James is, and I know how detached from reality he can be when he thinks his livelihood is in danger. If he thinks there's potential that his world could come crashing down around him, he'll be out of control. No telling what he's capable of.
"Don't apologize."
"I'm going to mail you back your phone and your credit card. You can tell him the last time you saw me was the night I was with you. Tell him I took off with some cash and a watch or something. Then, tell him you have no idea where I am. I'll even change motels tomorrow so that you aren't lying."
"No." His tone is definitive, like there won't be an argument. "Please don't do that, Bella. I can't not know where you are. Please let me help you."
"Tell me what James said."
"He's trying to manipulate me, but he's bitten off more than he can chew when it comes to me. He won't manipulate me or scare me." He pauses. "I'm not scared of him, Bella. But I am scared for you. So, please let me keep you safe."
I silently cry, holding the phone away from my cheek. I don't want him to hear me. I don't want him to know how scared I am… how worried I am for him. I want him to think I'm strong and that he doesn't have to worry about me. "I'll keep your phone and your credit card, but I'm staying here."
"He asked me if you went to Phoenix."
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, and my mouth goes dry. He remembered. He knows. Rationally, I know there are hundreds of hotels and motels in this area, and it could take him a long time to find this one. Irrationally, I look out the curtains of my window and expect to see James standing there. I draw a shaky breath when he's not there. "I'll go back tomorrow, but not tonight. I—I already paid for the night… and they made me put down a two-hundred-dollar deposit. I'm not leaving without it," I tell him, but it's a lie.
The truth is, the thought of leaving this room at night scares the shit out of me.
Getting back into a taxi with the creepy guy from earlier scares the shit out of me.
The wind blowing outside scares the shit out of me.
"Promise me that you'll call for anything," Edward pleads. "I may not be able to be there, but I have resources, and I know people, Bella."
"I promise," I whisper, checking the deadbolt on the door and then scooting the chair that's sitting at the tiny table over and propping it under the door handle. I saw my mom do that when I was little once. Then, while Edward is still on the other end of the line, I check the window, making sure it's locked. Finally, I pull my bag onto the bed with me and lean back against the headboard. "Good night, Edward."
"Good night, Isabella."
I'm safe.
The door is locked.
The window is locked.
He's not here.
He doesn't know where I am.
Edward would never tell him.
Edward won't let him hurt me.
He won't hurt Edward.
I continue to repeat those things to myself over and over, with a death grip on Edward's phone, and eventually, I drift off to sleep.
A/N:
As always, a big THANK YOU to our beta, GeekChic12! And to Rachel (J Ray Fanfiction) and Pamela (DrivingEdward) for their awesome pre-reading skills!
See ya tomorrow!
