She entered the hotel lobby, hands shaking as she made way toward the elevator. She felt Iris' eyes on her, but she didn't look back. Inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall, breathing slowly as she attempted to fight the knot growing in her throat. She didn't want to cry, but she felt tears brimming in her eyes. She closed her eyes tightly as a weak sob escaped her.
"Fuck," she muttered, the word strangled by the start of tears.
"Now, that's not proper language for a lady."
Her eyes flew open to take in the man she had seen twice prior. She tried to step away, only to realize she was already against the wall. "I didn't think there was anyone in here," she said weakly.
He chuckled, holding a hand out to her. "I don't believe we've properly introduced ourselves. I'm James. James March."
She hesitated a moment before she took his hand, shaking it. "Ashlynn," she said. "Harding."
His hands were cold and the grip he had on her was firm. He waited a moment too long to let go, nodding. "Ashlynn," he said, drawing out each syllable with a smile. "An interesting name."
"Thanks," she said.
"What's wrong, dear girl?"
"Nothing."
A chuckle escaped him. The elevator dinged, stopping. The doors opened, and Ashlynn stepped out, James following. "Now, dear girl, I know you're lying," he said.
"You don't know me," she replied.
"You're right," he admitted, chuckling once more. "But I can see that something's upsetting you."
"What do you care?"
He shrugged, following her as she walked down the hallway. "Perhaps I'm just curious."
She whirled to face him, tears falling down her cheeks. "Leave me alone," she said, but he was not deterred.
He stepped toward her, taking her shoulder. Her whole body tensed as he stared into her eyes. "It's all right, dear girl."
She blinked a few times before her body relaxed in his grip. "My friend," she said softly.
"What of her?"
"We got into a fight."
James nodded, a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. "Well," he said, and he let go of her, half expecting her to run. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She took a few steps back, looking at the floor. "I have to go," she said, and before James could say another word she was hurrying down the hall toward her room.
He watched her go, smiling to himself. Trying to restrain himself was becoming more difficult with each passing minute.
In her room, Ashlynn closed the door, locking it behind her. She dropped to the floor, back to the door, knees to her chest. She was almost surprised Cierra hadn't shown up yet. There was no doubt in her mind that Cierra was still at the diner, apologizing to the wait staff and eating her breakfast without a care in the world.
She wanted to call her parents, but she knew Cierra would have an excuse for them. That she hadn't taken her pills, or that she was just anxious being in a new place. Cierra always had excuses, ever since they were kids. She had tripped Ashlynn once while they playing tag in the yard. It had been on purpose, Ashlynn knew, since she remembered Cierra's laughing face.
Cierra had blamed the neighbor boy, and Ashlynn had been too scared to say she was lying.
Ashlynn bit hard at the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood. But it didn't matter. Her head was swimming and her stomach was twisted in knots. She should have stayed and eaten, but anger had come over her common sense in the moment, and now her stomach was paying the price.
On shaking legs she stumbled toward the bathroom. Bile burned in the back of her throat as she vomited, sobbing as she did. She braced herself against the toilet, tears landing on the white porcelain.
Her throat stung, but she tried to ignore it as she flushed the toilet, curling up in the corner of the bathroom. Her hair fell into her eyes, making her blink rapidly.
The air seemed to shift, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. Assuming it was Cierra, she closed her eyes, a sob escaping her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
She received no answer as she was pulled to her feet slowly. She looked at the red carpet, closing her eyes again as she laid down on her bed. The blankets were pulled over her, and she turned over onto her side, smiling faintly as fatigue swept over her. "Thank you," she whispered, and she pulled the blankets up to her chin.
James March watched as she fell asleep, a look of, what appeared to be, concern on his face. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of the blankets as they moved with Ashlynn's breathing. He longed to reach out and brush the hair from her face, but she looked so peaceful asleep that he almost feared he would wake her.
He allowed himself to touch the soft skin of her cheek once, so quickly that he barely felt it. "Goodnight, dear girl," he murmured, and, in an instant, he disappeared.