Chapter 4:
A/N: Trouble never stops for the boys of Playa Linda.
Disclaimer: Don't own any but the ones I made up.
An blast of muggy, hot air hit Jay's face as he pulled open the door to the motel office. This was his last stop, his last chance. Carpeting from the 1970's and cheap plastic chairs adorned the small room, with a counter set in the back. A greasy, half balding man sat behind the desk, watching ESPN on a small TV. Two fans behind him moved the sweltering air around, but did little to cool it. Jay leaned his elbows against the counter, smiling pleasantly. After a moment the man turned away from his TV. "Yeah?" he asked, seeming annoyed with the inconvenience of a customer. His employee tag said 'Chet.'
"I need to know if someone's staying here."
"Sure, we get lots of people stayin here. We're cheap and we're beach front. Didn't notice the no vacancy sign on the way in?" the man laughed snidely.
"No actually, seeing as it's broken." Jay rolled his eyes. "I meant I need to know if a specific person is staying here."
"Name?" His eyes began to wander back to the TV screen.
"Um, well actually that part I don't really know." The TV screen went blank and the man turned, interest piqued.
"Come again?"
"Look," Jay leaned over the counter, whispering conspiratorially, "my sister got into it with her asshole boyfriend. She called me from a pay phone like an hour ago and told me she was gonna hole up here. My cell service cut out before she could tell me what name she'd be staying under. Said she was pretty beat up though, her face and all."
The counter man's eyes narrowed, like he was processing the inundation of information. "See man, she pisses him off time to time, enough for him to rail on her. And she leaves for a while. But every time he comes back full of apologies and she takes him back. I just need to see her."
"Well what does she look like?"
Jay bit back a grin. She was here, he could feel it. "Uh, five seven and slender. She's got nearly black hair to her shoulders and silver-gray eyes." "
Suppose I had seen someone matchin that description." He flashed Jay a toothy, conniving grin. "What would the room number be worth to you?"
Jay frowned and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He slapped a twenty down on the counter. 'Why not? I'm already out two hundred bucks, what's twenty more?' he thought. The motel man reached out to take the bill, but Jay kept a firm hold of his end. "Room number first."
"I remember her. Came in early on in my shift, all kinds of jumpy. Face like someone took a mallet to it. Boyfriend you said?" Jay nodded. "Paid in cash so I didn't get a name. She's in 134, two from the end."
"Thanks."
"No," Chet grinned, holding up the twenty, " thank you."
The girl sat on the end of her double bed, foot tapping incessantly on the floor. She'd managed to find the one seedy motel in the sea of Playa Linda's rented beach houses and resort hotels. The TV got crappy reception and the air conditioner was broken. The bathroom was dirty and she didn't want to give much consideration to the bed. The only plus side to the place was the small balcony that overlooked the boardwalk and the beach.
All the same, she figured that if she stretched it, the money she'd taken from the surf shop could keep a roof over her head for almost a week. She just hoped that was long enough for her memory to begin to return, to remember anything of importance about her life. She sighed and fell back on the bed, her feet still tapping the ground relentlessly. Someone knocked softly on the door three times. "No thank you!" she called out. The pounding in her head had finally settled to a dull roar and the thought of a few hours of sleep was enticing. She'd already showered, washing knots from her hair and watching the water swirl red down the drain. The knocking came again. She sat up. "Not right now, thanks!" Knock, knock, knock. "Unbelievable," she muttered, standing and striding for the door.
She wrenched open the door as far as the safety chain allowed. She expected to see a maid wheeling a cleaning cart. Instead she saw Jay, jaw clenched, eyes serious. Her eyes shot wide. "Think I could get my money back?" She tried to slam the door shut on the Australian. Jay wedged his shoulder into the door, stopping her from closing it. The girl fled. She grabbed her sweatshirt off the bed as she dashed for the balcony and escape. She could hear Jay outside, straining to break the chain. There was a thud as his shoulder struck the door and the sound of wood splintering. She peered over the edge of the balcony. She gauged the drop down onto the boardwalk at a little over six feet. And though her ribs screamed violent protest she hopped the iron guard and let herself drop.
Jay threw his weight into the door a second time. The cheap rape chain ripped from the door and he burst inside. Curtains billowing from the back of the room and the open sliding door drew his attention. He ran to the balcony, but by the time he got there and started scanning the crowd, the girl had vanished once again.
--
Bradin pushed himself away from the cafeteria. He'd eaten alone and in silence, the gap between himself and another student a good ten feet. Not that he was terribly surprised. He'd only met a few local kids his age before the accident, and he knew none at school aside from Callie. But he was trying to avoid the former Midwesterner, aided by the fact that she apparently had lunch break after him. The only other person that would have gone to Playa Linda high was Sarah, and he didn't even know where she had ended up.
His face burned, and he felt hot despite the air conditioning. He'd heard a small cluster of upper classman talking in the caf, apparently taking no notice to him, though they had been talking about him. He recognized two as Erika's former students.
The conversation replayed in his head as he traveled, over and over. "Did you see the new resident cripple?" one sneered.
"Yeah," the snickered. "You know he gets to bail from class five minutes before each bell, so he doesn't have to be in the hall when it's crowded." A short, dark boy whined jokingly. "Just cuz he's in that stupid chair."
One of Erika's students, Dillon, had piped up next. "You know what happened to him right?" "
No."
"I knew him, met him once last summer. He was takin lessons from Erika, the girl who used to work for Jay. Dumbass drags Erika into following his loony girlfriend out on the highway. Long story short, big pileup. Kid got her killed."
Even as he recalled the words he felt hollow in his chest. He got her killed. Was it true? He'd never believed it before, counting it off as a horrific, painful stain in his life he'd never forget. But had he caused it? He stopped pushing, chest heaving.
His eyes roved, focusing finally on two figures at the end of the hall. A darkly clad youth stood at the end of the hall. He passed a small baggie to a kid Bradin couldn't really see, shrouded behind a sweatshirt hood and then pocketed a small fold of bills. Jolted back into the present, Bradin started to back pedal, but by that time he'd been seen. "Hey!" He spun himself around and pushed harder. "Hey!" The sound of running feet came rushing up behind him. The kid in dark clothes grabbed the back of his chair, stopping him dead. He came around to face Bradin and his eyes blazed angrily. He pulled out a slender, black object and pushed a button. A gleaming blade slid out of the hilt, aimed just beneath his chin. "What did you see?"
He swallowed reflexively, his gaze never drifting from the knife. "N.........n.........nothing," he stammered. The other kid put the knife away. "Good answer." he turned and began to walk away. "Just don't forget it." Bradin sat there for a long while, mind reeling as he waited for his heart to slow it frantic beat.
--
Jay trod despairingly down the boardwalk back to the Promenade and his store. It was nearly noon and he was sure a handful of shop regulars would be wondering where he'd disappeared. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, the toes of his sandals scraping the boards as he walked. He'd searched the beach and nearby stores for any sign of the girl, but he'd had no luck. he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't likely to see the girl, or his money ever again.
He was just past the halfway mark of his march when he stopped dead in his tracks. There, sitting on a bench, staring vacantly out at the ocean waves crashing down on the shore, sat a now familiar figure. Her hair was pulled away from her face and since he stood on her right, he saw for the first time how she must truly look. And he noticed the sadness in her face. He moved toward her cautiously, hoping not to incite another flight of escape. Soon he stood just next to her, and she hadn't so much as twitched. "You forget me too?" He asked, ready for her to make a break when she realized who it was. gray eyes flicked up at him once, then went back to watching the waves.
"You're not running," he stated simply, confused. She didn't look at him. "I kept moving for a while," she admitted, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Then I realized......... Where am I gonna go?" She nodded to herself. "Guess I don't really see the point now."
"Suppose I could be glad of that." Jay sat next to her. "Frankly I'm rather sick of chasing you."
She held up a crumpled wad of bills. "It's what's left of your money." Jay took it, fingering the paper without putting it away. She turned to him then, tears in her eyes. "Look I'm sorry. The money, you, all of it. I'll make up for what I took, somehow. But if you're gonna call the cops I'm telling you that I won't be here when they come. Because I still can't go to them, or the hospital and I still can't tell you why. I just, woke up one morning in some guy's store, not knowing where I was or how I got there. And I freaked."
Her lip trembled slightly and she averted her gaze once more. "it's like I woke up one morning and everything was gone. My whole life just vanished in an instant. Do you know what that feels like?"
Jay's mouth quirked. "Think I understand I might better than you'd imagine." He sighed heavily, knowing full well he was likely going to regret his next words. "Come on."
He stood and she followed suit, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. "Where are we going?"
"Well, if you're really set on payin me back, then I'll need you somewhere I can keep track of ya. Besides, I kinda got vested interest in you now. So I'm taking you someplace to stay a while. Least till your memory comes back. Don't need the guilt of you smashin some other poor bloke over the head." "
Oh."
"There is one other thing." he shot her a sideways glance.
"Yeah?"
"We need to give you a bloody name."
She laughed then, and the sound was warm. "What? You don't want to keep callin me girl?"
"Not particularly, no."
"All right. Well, I'm here, and that's about all I can tell you. So why stop a trend? You can call me Linda."
Chapter 4
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