Page 7 of Broken
Twisted told me to tell someone if I remembered something, but I barely have anything right now. I decide to keep this to myself until I can actually get something from it. Maybe this is a good sign. Maybe this means I’ll start getting things back.
The truck stops and I look up to see a small one-story motel.
Max climbs out of the truck, but I just sit there for a minute. We are in front of a one-story building that looks like it hasn’t been updated in a long time. My door opens and I climb down from the truck. I look over at Max, wanting to ask him all of the questions running through my mind.
A loud horn passing by makes me jump. Max chuckles. “Let’s go get a room.”
He grabs my hand and leads me toward the office. The walls are covered in wood panels and the carpet shows years of tread on it. The small balding man behind the desk looks up as the bell above the door signals our entry.
“I need a double bed room, not sure for how long, so I’ll pay per day,” he says but the older man’s eyes are focused on me. As his gaze snakes over me, I can’t help but want to tuck behind Max. He looks between the two of us before giving me a creepy smile.
After giving him the cash for the room, he leads me out of the office. Is it normal that they barely give him an identity? I want to ask him why he doesn’t have patches like the other men. I want to know what he has to do to get them.
I follow him into the room and freeze when I see there is only one bed.
Max turns toward me. “I told the fucker I need two beds. Wait a minute. I’ll be back.”
He leaves before I can answer him. The room smells musty and the blanket is scratchy as I run my hand over it. I stand by the window, watching the cars as they zip past us.
That’s when a flash of red goes by, a motorcycle.
No, it can’t be the same one.
I’m probably not even remembering anything.
The door opens and Max walks in. “He says this is all he has. I can’t take you anywhere else and I gotta stay in the same room with you.” I slowly nod. “Sorry, it’s orders. You hungry?”
I wasn’t until he just asked me. Now I feel like I haven’t eaten in years. “Yea, really hungry.”
“You like pizza?”
I smile wide as the thought of a pizza makes my mouth water. Wait, I can remember that I like pizza but nothing else about myself? Jesus, my mind really prioritizes.
“Guess that’s a yes. You want anything special on it?”
It’s a simple question. One that most people might know the answer to. Not me. How pathetic is it that I don’t even know my favorite pizza topping? “Anything is fine.”
His mouth opens as if he is going to say something but then it shuts. He pulls out his phone, and I hear him ordering a pizza. Taking a seat on the bed, I think about turning on the TV, not that I have any idea what I’d like to watch. Jesus, I’m depressing.
Max is standing by the door and the way he is rocking side to side I realize he’s uncomfortable. Looking around, I notice that there are no chairs in the room.
“You can sit down,” I say as I move closer to the edge.”
“Listen, I know this sucks. Hopefully, they figure out who you are soon and then we can work everything out.” He offers me a kind smile.
I appreciate that he’s trying to make me feel better. I want to get to know him, to maybe understand why he’s treating me differently than the other guys have. “What’s the difference between you and the other men? Why do they call you prospect?”
He blinks a few times as if my question surprises him. “A prospect is someone who wants to join the club but isn’t a member yet. You have to earn your spot and until you do you take orders and shut your mouth. And yea, to answer your next question, it sucks.”
He grabs the remote, turning the TV on and flipping through channels before he finds one that he likes.
I watch as the group of friends on the screen get into a stupid argument and before I know it a fit of laughter rips out of me. I look over at Max, and he’s smiling at me.
Maybe this prison won’t be that bad.
