Page 42 of Last First Time
“Come on guys, cut it out. I’m a grown up and can handle it. How bad is the bad news this time?”
One of them shrugs a little. “Depends on how you feel about facing a horde of about fifty or so rabid reporters who appear to be waiting outside to skin you alive.”
I shrug. “It can’t be that bad.” The two behemoths look at each other again, then carefully avoid looking at me. Yikes.
I sigh heavily. “Looks like this shitshow really is going to last all forty-eight hours. Okay. Let me at least clean myself up a little bit, if that’s okay.”
The two men nod at me, then led me toward a men’s room in the back hallway. It looks like today is going to manage to get even worse before I’m allowed to go back to my regularly scheduled life.
And I still have to figure out where Kar disappeared to, then try to apologize for ruining everything for her.
K.T.
When the phone rings, I pick it up and throw it across the room. It takes me another few moments to figure out that the cell phone in my hand isn’t actually making any noise, and it’s the room phone that keeps ringing. But that doesn’t make any sense. Nobody is supposed to know where I am in the Jane Doe motel room, and that’s the whole point.
Unfortunately, the room phone didn’t get the message. It keeps shrilling at me until I finally crawl over to it and pick up the receiver. I grunt something that must pass for a greeting, and the front desk receptionist tells me this is my wake-up call and then hangs up in my ear.
Well, I hadn’t ordered a wake-up call, but I certainly got one. If only my phone battery weren’t dead right now, I could get online and give this place a scathing one-star review right now.Unnecessary wake up calls in the early morning hours when all I wanted to do was sleep and feel sorry for myself. Front desk staff unreasonably suspicious when I checked in under an obviously fake name. Would give this dumpster fire of a motel zero stars if possible.
Seems like the lady at the front desk is trying to get me out of her motel room. This doesn’t exactly seem like the type of place that gives personal wake up calls, especially to people who haven’t actually asked for them. I figure I might as well take a hint, take a shower, and take a hike.
I stop by the front desk to check out, and the clerk gives me her most fake, plastic smile ever. “Hope y’all enjoyed your stay,” she coos in that sugar on top kind of voice that I can tell is layered over a giant waving middle finger. Ugh. She’s probably stabbing a little voodoo doll of me under the counter right now.
“Yeah, thanks for the wake-up call.” I don’t bother to hide the bite in my voice. I’d barely even fallen asleep during the early morning hours when the stupid room phone had started ringing and wouldn’t stop.
“Of course. You’re so very welcome,” she lilts in her sing-song voice. Maybe she really is this happy in the morning, and it has nothing to do with her chasing me out of her motel room. Well, whatever, it feels super awkward and I am beyond glad to get out of here.
I drag my suitcases out and sling them into the truck bed then hop into the cab and plug my phone in. Once it restarts, I have another few hundred messages from strangers that I can only assume are either dick pics or offers to pray for me, and my voicemail is full again. Probably all reporters again. Great. Looks like the excitement hasn’t died down at all last night. Where are the Kardashians when I need them?
I delete the texts en masse and do the same with the voicemails. I’m probably going to have to change my number, but not until I’m positive that all this drama with Reed is in the past. I check the time and decide it’s late enough that I can call Abernathy and see what he’s gotten accomplished.
“K.T.? Did you get my messages?” Thom sounds almost worried, which is basically the equivalent of a screaming nervous breakdown from anyone else.
“Probably, but no. I keep having randoms sending me texts and cluttering up my voicemail, so I deleted everything on my phone this morning again. But what’s going on?”
He makes a noise that sounds like a wild animal. At least, I assume the noise is Thom and not an actual animal. “Reed was being transferred to federal court this morning for arraignment, but I’m stuck in the courthouse out here trying to get this emergency injunction against his idiot father signed and served. Look, were you able to do anything about the money situation?”
My hand touches my face, then my throat. Well, I’ve only been stressing out about this all night long. I don’t know anyone who isn’t Reed’s father who is likely to have that kind of cash in some secret bank account or a mattress or whatever. Except for one person, that is.
I have an idea, but it is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had in my entire life. The words are almost enough to sink me even as I hear them coming out of my mouth. “Yeah, I got the fifty thousand together Thom. Now tell me what I need to do with it.” Well, crap. I guess I really am doing this.
Abernathy blows out a sharp breath. “Thank goodness. I didn’t know what I was going to do about getting Reed out of jail. Sorry, but I’d really only asked you as a long shot, K.T. It’s like a miracle. I can’t believe it.”
He sounds so happy. Well, at least I’ve made somebody happy this morning. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m going to throw up. This has to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, especially for a guy of all things. And yeah, Reed would have done the same for me, but that doesn’t make it any less stupid.
Abernathy asks me to head directly to the federal courthouse. It seems like they are ready to let Reed go once I deposit the funds with the court. Abernathy says he trusts the federal court more than the state court given what went down with the local judge. I make a noise that’s probably agreement, but maybe also a sidecar of panic. Then I hang up and try to catch my breath.
I put the coordinates for the federal courthouse into my traffic app, and it turns out it’s only half an hour away. Abernathy told me that Reed was picked up about half an hour ago for transport, so I should get there well before him. I can pay the money and then get out of there before Reed even knows what happened.
The whole thing feels vaguely seedy, but everything in my life has felt that way since the entire upper Midwest got to look at pictures of me in bed with Reed. I feel like every person I meet has seen me naked, and it’s probably because they have. Not directly, but well, same sort of thing in a way.
As I drive toward the city, I have a brief moment of panic where I try to figure out what I’m going to do once I don’t have my safety money anymore. I planned on using those dollars to keep me afloat while I figured out where I was going to start over. But with my entire savings effectively wiped out by posting bail for Reed, I’ll be crawling back home to Valentine, at least until my landlord sells the building to make room for Tots and Shots. Or until Reed Harrington IV sells some of his ugly chrome furniture or whatever to pay me back. Assuming he’s going to even want to talk to me after all this mess.
I don’t have a choice here other than to go back home. There’s absolutely no way to make ends meet without either savings or some sort of income, and the only real way I have to make money right now is Riddles. My bar makes decent money, and I can probably scrape together enough to at least cover my rent for a while until I figure out what I’m going to do next.
A huge wave of panic washes over me. Is this the right choice? How am I going to be able to look people in the eye again when Senator von Esrington has made sure that everyone in Valentine had a front row look at whatever fragile little thing was happening with me and Reed? Cue up the judging eyes from every society woman and little old lady in town, and maybe get me a big scarlet letter for my t-shirts while we’re at it. I’ll be lucky if people don’t actually spit on me in public.
At least I should be able to fly under the radar for this portion of the process. And then Reed will be able to get on with his campaign, and grind that smarmy, corrupt asshole senator down into the ground like dust. Not literally, of course. I don’t want him punching anybody right now, because we’ve all seen how that worked out for him.
