Page 18 of The Prodigal

Why am I even trying to save her at this point? Clearly, she’s a lost cause. Her body is going to end up in the dumpster before I can even get what I need from her.

“There won’t be a next time, will there, Gerald?” Eden raises the bat, her arms trembling. Gerald isn’t impressed by her sudden show of bravado, but he stays quiet and lets her finish. “We won’t tell you again. Leave, and don’t come back here.”

Since when did I give her any indication that I resembled a friend or her personal savior? There is no “we.” I’m here for sheets. Nothing else. I don’t need to be a witness to an assault or murder that gets back to Duke. He’ll have questions about why I’m staying at this motel, and I won’t have answers for him. I made a personal goal this year not to hurt his feelings more than twice a day if I could help it.

But still, I’m intrigued enough to play into Eden’s little fantasy and toss my cigarette, shoving Gerald toward the door like we’re some kind of crime-fighting duo.

“I won’t forget this, Eden,” Gerald threatens, holding his hand over the burn on his neck as he walks to the door.

“Great,” I say, matching him step for step. “We look forward to it, Gomez.”

I take out another cigarette and light it, reminding him I’m close enough to go for his eye, should he decide to linger more than he already is. “Have a great evening.”

He pauses as soon as his back hits the door. “Don’t get cocky, kid. You won’t always be around.”

You know what?

Fuck it.

I reach behind me and bark, “Eden. The bat.” The wooden handle hits my palm in an instant, and Gerald scrambles through the door, leaving me filled with rage in the middle of the lobby.

I don’t know how long I stand there in silence, but it isn’t long enough to scare Eden into being silent.

“Did you just save me for the second time today, 101?” I can hear the humor wrapped around her words. She thinks my saving her makes us friends.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

Slowly, I turn around and pin her with a look that is anything but friendly. “I thought I asked you to get me a new set of sheets.”

Her face lights up with a toothy grin. “I knew you knew my name.”

I don’t have time for this shit. “If you can’t manage to do your job, then I’m checking out.” I reach into my pocket for the room key.

“Gah! Okay. I’ll get your sheets.” She waves me away like I’m being overly dramatic. “Sit down and rest that attitude of yours. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t sit down.

Instead, I turn around and head for the door.

“Don’t even think about it, 101. You’re taking these sheets you and I both know you’re not going to use.”

I pause with my hand on the door and sigh. Why must she irk the fuck out of me?

“Who says I won’t use them?”

I turn and find her grinning like she has me all figured out or something. “I think even Gerald knew you weren’t going to use these sheets.”

She tosses the bag of linens onto the counter. “Fresh out of the dryer for my hateful hero.”

I know what she’s doing.

“This doesn’t make us friends,” I say, just in case another crazy idea pops into her head, like wanting to hang out.

She gasps, and it’s full of sarcasm. “Are you saying that you walked all the way up the sidewalk to rescue me because you can’t stand me?”

I can’t help the glare that she brings on. “You and Gaston were blocking my view of the ugly wallpaper.”

“You’re telling me you sit outside in Room 103’s plastic chair and look at the wallpaper?” The humor in her voice is unmistakable now.

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