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Someone was banging.Sarah woke with a start, the noise triggering a physical reaction in her belly, until she realized it was only a voice telling them they had arrived and needed to disembark. Sarah threw back the blankets from the bunk where she’d fallen asleep several hours ago. Alex swung his legs onto the floor. He’d obviously passed out on the bench seat, despite it looking really uncomfortable.
There was a question in his eyes as they came to rest on hers. Not yet. She couldn’t deal with him just yet. Instead, she went into the tiny bathroom and splashed water on her face. Sarah stared at herself in the mirror. The reflection was a mere ghost of the person she had been two days ago. Pale, gaunt, limp hair, hollow eyes full of regret. She gripped the basin in an attempt to ground herself. One foot in front of the other, one moment at a time. That’s all she could do right now.
She was still trying to wrap her head around Alex’s confession. How could he be the man she fell in love withanda cold-blooded killer? In what context would it be okay to love him? Alex was convinced she would never be returning to her old life. But what was her future? She still wasn’t sure if Alex could be part of it. She understood that he was trying to leave that life of violence behind. But would that life let him leave?
Her head was still too fuzzy to think about this. She tidied herself up as best she could and went back into the cabin. Alex was waiting for her, jacket in hand. He gently helped her into it, like a patient just released from the hospital. She felt numb. Numb was good.
They made their way through customs, then Alex led them onto a train platform and bought tickets from a machine. They stood on the platform for only a moment before a train arrived.
As she settled into her seat and they pulled away, she realized it was again night time.
‘Where are we?’
‘Holland. We’re heading into Rotterdam.’
Sarah’s lips twitched at a memory. Throughout the year she’d taken advantage of her proximity to other countries and would often go on short tours. She’d once taken a week-long bus tour through France, Belgium, the Netherlands and back to France. Enroute to Amsterdam, the bus had broken down. Apparently, this was a fairly common occurrence because the tour guide had a ready stash of cheese and wine that she plied on the travelers as they waited for a new bus just outside of Rotterdam. The afternoon had been so much fun. Twenty people standing in a paddock by the side of the road, drinking, eating and being ridiculously merry.
Sarah wondered how close they were to that spot now as the train sped through the darkened landscape. And if she’d ever feel that free again.
ChapterTwelve
Thirty minutes later the train pulled into the enormous Centraal Station. The exterior looked more like a museum than a train station with its dramatic, slanted peak opening onto an esplanade. Alex led them directly across the esplanade to a very tall building that reminded Sarah vaguely of pictures she’d seen of the Empire State Building in New York. Five flags fluttered above the name of the hotel, the Marriott.
Revolving doors gently pirouetted them into an enormous lobby. The luxury was in stark contrast to the last twenty-four hours. The ceiling was so high Sarah had to crane her neck to take it in. It was a little after six in the evening and the lobby was a hive of activity. People checking in, meeting for drinks or heading out for the evening. Weary families arriving after a full day exploring the city. For a moment, Sarah let herself imagine that she was just like them.
All too soon the fantasy disappeared. Alex was beckoning her to follow him to the bank of elevators. They joined a family of Asian tourists as the lift took them to the thirteenth floor and at some point, she realized Alex was holding her hand as he drew her out of the elevator and towards a door with the number thirteen-zero-eight inscribed on it.
The room itself was nice, she guessed. It was neutral, lacking in depth. Or was it soul? Perhaps she was projecting. A king-sized bed was on the right, the lamps on either side were on, casting a soft glow. The door to the built-in robe was slightly ajar, as if expecting the room occupants to be confused about how to open it. Sarah collapsed onto one of three comfortable-looking sofas that formed a semi-circle around a coffee table. Through the walls she could hear the sound of other guests arriving and leaving. Muffled television and water pipes completed the soundtrack. Her stomach gave a faint rumble to signal dinner time. The bitter aftertaste of fast-food and exhaustion did not increase her appetite. Although she had showered in the early hours of the morning, her filthy clothes made her skin itch from the memories ingrained in the fabric.
Water flushing and taps turning reminded Sarah she wasn’t alone.
‘Hungry?’
Sarah shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You need to eat something decent. I’m going to order room service. Any requests?’ Alex was already shuffling through the directory on the dining table.
‘Whatever.’ Numbness was giving way to unease. Sarah wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, hoping to lock the new emotion out.
Alex was speaking into the phone. She didn’t bother listening. He hung up and went back into the bathroom. A minute later she heard the water running.
She looked around, catching a window that hinted at more spectacular views of the city’s skyline at night. Unease flittered over her skin.
‘Alex, this hotel looks pretty fancy,’ she called. ‘Not the kind of place that takes a last-minute reservation.’
He materialized in the doorway. ‘You’re right. A friend booked it for me.’
‘What friend?’ Distrust prickled the back of her neck. How did someone on the run manage to have friends booking fancy hotels for him?
‘A contact. It’s okay, I trust him.’ Alex disappeared back into the bathroom to indicate the subject was closed.
‘Food will be a while. I’ve run you a bath.’
Sarah almost laughed. Of course, he had. Alex had ordered her food and run her a bath. Why not? He’d destroyed her life and taken her away from everything and everyone she knew. He may as well keep up the decision making. She clearly had no choice in anything anymore.
She got up and made her way to the bathroom. The water was invitingly deep and full of bubbles. With a sigh, she started to peel the clothes from her body. She sank into the steaming tub and let it lull her back from the brink of feeling, into an abyss of heady nothingness.
In her semi-conscious state, half-formed thoughts floated. Sarah didn’t rouse herself to try and catch and examine them. She drifted. Alex had switched the television on; the sound was a low murmur. It sounded British. She inhaled and let herself submerge.
