Jane awoke with a start. It was the front desk giving her a wake-up call. She had forgotten that she had ordered that yesterday morning. Shit. Her head was ringing and she felt like she had a hangover, but Jane didn't remember drinking anything heavy.
She sat up in bed slowly and then placed her feet on the floor. The moment she did that, she felt queasy and rushed off to the bathroom. She hugged the toilet; nothing came up. Damn it all to hell! Jane was trying remembering snippets of her thoughts last night. And then after struggling for a couple of minutes, all of the horrors came back and Jane gasped.
Why had she been so stupid? How could she have missed something that must have been obvious? She needed answers. She needed a shower. Jane needed revenge.
Tears filled her eyes.
Carefully getting up from the cold, tile floor, Jane slipped off her bathrobe and turned on the shower to extra hot. She needed to cleanse herself from all of the thoughts that led her into the insanity of vulnerability—obviously extremely hot water and a loofa would do this for her. After a moment of letting the shower run, Jane stepped into the steam and gasped as the hot water scolded her soft skin. Ah! It hurts! However, Jane stayed in the shower, she needed to forget to think.
After twenty whole minutes of just letting the water flow over her soft curves, Jane finally soaped up. She scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was bright red. After rinsing off, Jane stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself up in a soft, fluffy towel. The whole bathroom was filled with steam, and the hot air was intoxicating. Jane needed to get out of there. She needed to get the hell out of Russia.
She basically jumped into her clothes and threw everything into her bag, not stopping to organize, which shocked her. But nonetheless, Jane was ready to go in less then five minutes. And as if they were telepathic, Jane's room phone rang as she was heading out the door. She rushed back to get it.
"Hello?" She answered.
"Mrs. Smith? There are two men down here who wish to escort you to the airport. Shall I send them up?"
"No, thank you. Please tell them that I will be down in a minute." Jane hung up the phone and picked up her bags. She took her time walking from her room to the elevator. But that didn't make a difference, because the elevator didn't even stop, not even once. It was a smooth and quick ride down. However, when the doors opened to reveal the beautiful lobby, Jane took her time sashaying towards the same two Russians who had escorted her home last night. They looked better at night, Jane thought and grimaced a little.
John got up five minutes before his alarm sounded. He had checked into a cheap, shitty hotel last night, since he wanted to see Jane before he left for New York. John got dressed quickly, not bothering to shower. He had a plane to catch in less then two hours, and he had to get over to the hospital to see Jane.
He packed up his bag and headed out to the front desk. His hotel was a crappy one, but it had sufficed to his nocturnal needs. John approached the front desk; a young woman was sitting there reading a fashion magazine. She had her legs propped up on the desk, and John could see her underwear under her small skirt. She was very good looking in a country-slut kinda way.
John cleared his throat, and the girl looked up impatiently. When she saw John though she smiled and asked, "Yes? Are you ready to check out Mr.…?"
"Smith. John Smith." After he said it, John realized how he had said it. Now he sounded like a skmuck.
The girl subtly looked John over and then smiled when his face grew hot. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for a little bit?" The girl asked while standing and coming out from behind the desk. John tightened. He couldn't be tempted; even though it had been a long time since he had gotten any. John needed to be strong; Jane would come around sooner or later. Hopefully sooner than later, or John would break down.
"I'm sure." John said after a moment of trying to gain his composure. "I would like to check out now…" He read her nametag strategically placed on her left breast. "Shelby."
"Fine," Shelby said in a sharp tone and then gave him his receipt. John paid with cash and got the hell out of there.
The town was so small that John could just walk down the block to the hospital, and he did just that. As he expected there was a black Hummer in front of the door. He approached the driver's side. The window rolled down. It was Wingate.
"Hello Smith."
"Good Morning Wingate," John said.
"Looking for a ride to the airport?"
"Actually I was going to go up and see how Jane was doing. But yes, when I come back down I'll need to go to the airport."
"Well, we'll be here. Remember you're plane leaves at ten fifteen."
"But of course," John said and then placed his bags in the backseat and walked into the hospital.