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Managing to gain some composure, I look between the two women confused, the entire situation from Jen wreaks of nasty unprofessionalism and outright bitchy behaviour.
Pamela smiles and slides a key card over the desk to me.
“Here’s your card. The elevators are down the hall slightly and to the right. You’ll be on the top floor. Will any guests be joining you?”
As I hear those words, I turn to her. My eyes widen as an overwhelming wave of fear passes through me, and I feel the sweat gathering at my hairline. She hesitates slightly as I begin to fumble my words. Shaking my head frantically in response, her demeanor changes instantly. She quietly nods, jots something down on a piece of paper, and slides it over to me along with my key card.
Politely nodding, she proceeds to busy herself at her desk, turning to Jen, I assume to reprimand her for her bad attitude. Stepping toward the bank of elevators, I admire the warm marble and subtle gold details while patiently waiting for the elevator to open. As it does, I enter. Pressing the button for the top floor. The lift rises, allowing me to lean back onto the wall. Looking down at my hands, I begin to read the note passed to me by the receptionist. I feel tears well in my eyes as I read the words scrawled.
Your reservation is under Amy Jones. If you need anything, call reception and ask for Pamela.
Shaking my head, I kick myself for acting like a bitch during the whole situation. The elevator doors eventually open, moving into the hall and placing the keycard against the handle, I step inside and observe the large suite. Dropping my case down and shutting the door behind me, I kick off my shoes and sigh when my feet sink into the soft plush carpet.
Two/Face ??
Taking a drag of my third cigarette, I stand on the sidewalk. Content Summer has checked into her hotel for the evening and won’t likely leave tonight.
It’s good to have someone on the inside.
I feel my phone buzz with an incoming message. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I read a message demanding a meeting as soon as possible. Rolling my eyes, I take another drag of my cigarette. I tap a reply as I exhale over the screen. Shaking my head, I look towards the hotel. The events over the last twenty-four hours weighing heavily on all of us.
The team feels twitchy. I’ve told them we have nothing to worry about. We can’t be exposed if no one knows us or what we do and there is no record of it anywhere. We haven’t gotten away with it for all these years by being lax and sloppy. Do I enjoy killing? I do. Watching the fear in someone’s eyes, it’s like fireworks going off on the fourth of July. It gives you a sense of wonder and excitement, and then once it’s all over, you will have that feeling of accomplishment.
Stepping back into the shadows, observing as the busy New Yorkers go about their evening. With the sun beginning to set and the cold autumnal wind blowing through the tall buildings, I take one last look at the hotel before heading down the street.
I can become acquainted with summer tomorrow. I’ll let her rest for now. She’ll need it.
Chapter Four
Summer?
Slowly rolling over in the large plush bed, my body feels weak and heavy. Each time I stretch, I feel my muscles ache and tense up. Gently pushing myself up in the unfamiliar bed, I glance around. Rubbing my eyes, I quickly remember where I am. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I allow my gaze to fall on the bright New York skyline.
I have no idea where to start with all of this. As soon as I entered the room, I stripped my clothes off and crawled into bed, hoping some rest would clear my head and offer a clearer perspective. If I’m being honest, it hasn’t. I’ve come to New York, but for what purpose? I have no idea what my dad’s affairs are if he even has any. That’s just what you hear people say in some soap opera. Even though we spent time together in my adult years, I don’t feel like I really knew him. I know he owned some successful businesses throughout the city, but that’s it, really. My mother made spending time together difficult during my childhood, but I never blamed him. He knew what she was like and never made me suffer because of it.
Laying my head back onto the pillow, I stare at the ceiling, trying to devise a plan. I don’t even know who to speak with? I mean, are the police needing to speak with me? I hadn’t seen my father for around six months. I was due to see him for Christmas, where I was going to tell him about my engagement to Harry. I was preparing myself for the disappointed look on his face. Part of me hoped he would ask me to come and stay with him so I could escape Harry’s relentless abuse, but now I’ll never know. The alarm clock beside the bed catches my eye, my shoulders sagging as I realise it’s only 01:00am.
I shouldn’t have crashed when I walked in here.
Feeling my stomach grumble slightly, I throw my duvet off my body. Gently placing my feet onto the floor, I throw on my clothes from earlier and make my way through the hotel in search of food and some fresh air.
When the hotel doors open, I feel the chilly New York wind pinch my cheeks. I smile as I can see my breath for the first time in years. Glancing up to the sky, I smile. I love the cold; I don’t know why? Something about it is so comforting. The heat in L.A. was initially fun when I first arrived, but eventually, I grew tired of it. Partly because I was trapped with my materialistic, intolerable mother.
With my mother on my mind, I pull my phone from my purse. I raise my eyebrows as I realize it’s still off. Holding the buttons down, I watch as the Apple screen lights up. Casually looking ahead, I spot an open McDonald’s, feeling my stomach grumble once again. I head with purpose for the entrance, allowing my phone to update.
Once inside, the warmth engulfs me as I join the queue. I stare up at the boards, deciding what to order, but right now, everything looks amazing. As the queue at the counter dwindles, I order my food and pay, settling for a Big Mac meal with coke and large fries.
Stepping away, allowing the next customer to order, I patiently wait for my food. However, feeling a slight shudder run up my spine, I instantly turn around, spotting a man staring at me from the corner of the restaurant, dressed in heavy dark clothing. Quickly looking him up and down, his beady eyes meet mine for a moment before he abruptly turns and walks out of the main entrance making sure to obscure his face, but I manage to catch a glimpse of some intricate facial tattoo’s.
Squinting, I watch intently as he walks away out of sight, luckily in the opposite direction of my hotel. I stare for a moment longer, contemplating whether I should leave and head back to safety, that brief five second meeting leaves me feeling nervous and on-edge.
Feeling a gentle nudge on my shoulder. I jump and turn back to see the member of staff holding out my order to me. Offering a polite smile, I waste no time in heading back to my hotel, constantly checking over my shoulder every few steps and picking up the pace as it nears.
The long ride up to the suite feels agonizing, nervously chewing on my lip, I slam the door shut behind me as soon as I hear it unlock via the keycard. Throwing the bag down onto the coffee table, I dig into my food, taking large slurps of my drink between bites. After twenty-four hours without food, this honestly tastes amazing. I feel myself beginning to feel a little better, too, I suppose a good meal does help. Once finished, I throw the trash into the bin and sink into the sofa. I smile slightly, spotting the familiar Netflix logo on the TV apps. Settling for a crime documentary, I lay my head onto a large fluffy cushion and pull the warm blanket over my shoulders. Curling myself into a ball, my heavy eyes becoming heavier.
Bhodi?
Rubbing my eyes, I stare at the multiple statements from last night’s homicide investigation. My stomach turns as I take a sip of my fourth coffee. Whoever made this needs to be fucking shot. It’s burnt and tastes like shit. Launching the cup into the bin, I glimpse the clock on the wall.
