Page 28 of The One Who Won’t Get Away
Chapter 12
Nadya
THE TRAIN STATION SPATus out onto a dead-silent street.Streetlights illuminated the sidewalk, but all the people had long since shuffled off to wherever people go at this hour—strip clubs, 24/7 diners, or their comfy beds.
Nick slung my battered bag over one shoulder, then hoisted his own duffel in the other hand, making it look as if they weighed nothing.I grabbed my backpack, ignoring his raised eyebrow.
"You sure you don't want me to carry that, too?"Nick asked, already setting a pace down the wide, empty sidewalk.
The last train's departure echoed behind us, the sound making my bones jitter.
"I'm not helpless, Tuna," I shot back, but there was no acid in it.We both knew the last thing I wanted was to be coddled.Still, he slowed a little, so we walked in step.
The three blocks to the hotel stretched into an eternity.Each intersection was more deserted than the last, storefronts sealed behind grates.A pizza place, a vape shop, a bakery where the window display was just an empty cake stand and a single plastic rose.There was a world where all of this looked homey, even beautiful, but right now it felt like a movie set after the crew had packed up and left the set to the rats.
Neither of us talked.My mind should've been gnawing itself to death with anxiety over tomorrow, over the reason we were here at all.Instead, I was hyper-aware of every shift in Nick's face, every inhale and exhale.
After the last crosswalk, we reached the hotel.The sign was supposed to say "HOMETON INN," but M and E were a stuttering blue flicker, so it looked like "HO TON INN."Nick laughed under his breath when he saw it.
"Could be worse," he said."Last place they stuck me was a motel with an actual chalk outline in the parking lot."
"Now that's curb appeal."I tried to relax my shoulders, but the tension settled there and refused to let go.
The front entrance sucked us in, glass doors whooshing open on a burst of over-conditioned air.The lobby was surprisingly packed with a writhing mass in matching basketball jerseys.
I stopped short, nearly colliding with the wall of sweat and cheap body spray.Nick maneuvered me through the chaos, then dropped our bags at a sofa near the front desk.I stayed there, letting him handle the check-in process.The front desk was manned by a kid who looked like he should've still been in high school, all acne and panic.He gaped at Nick, then at me, then at the screen, like maybe if he blinked enough the whole situation would vanish.
There was a lot of unhappy muttering, so I edged closer to eavesdrop, but all I caught was the kid saying, "Yeah, I'm really sorry, sir," and Nick's jaw tightening in a way that might end in a very calm, very patient homicide.
"Everything cool?"I asked.
Nick planted both elbows on the counter, then dropped his head, massaging the bridge of his nose like he’d just found out his favorite microbrew was out of business before turning toward me to explain.“So, slight issue.We were booked for two rooms, but one of them got double-sold.There’s only one left in the whole place, and at this hour, everywhere else within walking distance is booked solid with the basketball crowd.”
“It’s fine.Not like we’ve never shared a room and a bed before,” I reminded him.
He sighed, mumbled something under his breath, then took the key card from the kid at the front desk before guiding me to the elevator.
We crammed in next to a couple of seven-footers who looked like they'd be more comfortable sleeping on a trampoline.Nick punched our floor, then braced himself against the wall.The other two got off first, talking about some party in a suite upstairs.
I could've made a joke about sleeping in the bathtub, but honestly?I'd rather have Nick there in the dark, between me and the rest of the universe, than be alone with my thoughts in some sterile room with clinically white bedsheets and plastic-wrapped cups.
