Page 10 of Styx’s Storm

“Can we do this again?” I didn’t like how weak my voice sounded—like the mewl of a newborn kitten.

“I don’t do repeats. Check-out’s at ten.” He turned the door handle. Then stilled.

The tension was so thick, I could’ve cut it with a knife. I mentally urged him to stay, even while knowing he wasn’t going to.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Steven.” With that, he slipped out around the door.

Light flooded in from the hallway, but damn bastard was too fast for more than an impression of tall guy with a bulky jacket and a knit cap, silhouetted against the brightness. Then the door swung shut, leaving me there in the dark.

A torrent of emotions crashed on me. Rocking me to my very core. As much as I wanted to tell myself this was just like every other hookup, my mind rebelled. This was the first time since Frank died I’d felt something while having sex. Hell, the first time I’d wanted to feel something. All because of some random stranger.

Baxter and I had driven for a week with just one bed in the camper—the second being covered by his keyboard—but we hadn’t fucked. We hadn’t made out. Hell, we hadn’t even kissed. He’d had sex since Frank’s accident. I, however, had not managed that.

Apparently I just needed to be abandoned in the middle of goddamn nowhere with a mysterious hookup to break through my stasis.

I tried to figure out how I felt about all this…

Nope.

Too hard. Too painful. Too raw.

Instead, I turned, nuzzled Charles’s pillow that carried his elusive woodsy scent, and fell asleep.

Morning came too soon as my bladder demanded attention. My stomach wasn’t happy either—I realized I’d consumed nothing since the hot chocolate at The Owl’s Nest the day before.

The clock radio read nearly eight o’clock.

I could head to the diner. I could try to hitch a ride to Vancouver. Hell, I could even try to track Baxter down. Mission City wasn’t that big. As long as he was still here, chances were I could find him. Or I could try to figure out where he took the van and stake the place out till he went back for her. I’d just been so pissed yesterday that I hadn’t wanted to find him.

I flipped on a light, got out of bed, and made my way over to the curtains. I’m on the third floor. Chances are I’m not going to flash anyone. So I pulled back the drapes.

My breath caught.

The sky was a burst of pink, purple, blue, and red. Puffy clouds were interspersed and colored with a riot of hues as well as white. I was never awake before dawn, so this was a sight I never saw. Sunsets occasionally caught my notice—but nothing like this.

I moved to the closet to retrieve my phone. Within a heartbeat, I was back at the window, taking so many pictures. As if I could somehow capture the magic on digital. I never wanted to forget this moment. This was like…a sign or something. Right? That I’d survived the past eighteen months, and that things were going to get better?

As I scrolled through the pictures, something caught my eye, and I zoomed in.

A mountain. A snow-capped mountain. Weird. I’d totally missed that. I stepped forward and spotted the triangular peak with my naked eye.

Finally, as the pink vanished—and the world returned to normal—I headed toward the bathroom.

A knock sounded at the door.

Charles came back.

I damn near opened the door before remembering I was buck naked. Stopping at the door, I glanced through the peephole.

Aaron.

“Hey, I thought I had until, what, ten?”

“You do.” He grinned. “I have your breakfast on a tray. May I bring it in?”

“Breakfast?”

“Part of the deal.”