He gulps nervously. “Okay, we can do that.” Then he turns in his chair and flags down the waiter for the check, still seeming tense, which makes me wonder if he’ll end up backing out in the end. It happens more than you’d think, especially with married men. I don’t think he’s married, though. He doesn’t have a ring on and no tan line from wearing one. He doesn’t give off the vibe either. He just seems experienced. Young and inexperienced, but then again so did Tenner and I turned out to be way wrong about him.
I’m guessing Elington’s a year or two younger than me, around twenty-one, barely legal to drink. Short brown hair, eyes that match, a lean body, he’s not that bad to look at. But looks aren’t what’s most important. I have a harder time with the quiet ones, but maybe that’s because I’ve always been more at ease with cocky guys, guys that can handle a girl taking charge, perhaps meet her in the middle, be on the same level.
Guys like Layton Everett.
God, what I’d give for him to be here. He was always so good at helping me out of my mess. He would know exactly what to do.
But he’s not because he’s dead because of you.
I shake my head. Don’t think about him Lola. You’re already stressed enough.
After Elington pays the bill, we head to the hotel that’s a few miles down the road from the restaurant, in the more sketchy area of town, the same one I went to last night. It’s the usual place the escorts at The Dusky Inn go, since most of the people hanging in that area are doing illegal things and therefore barely pay attention to anyone else’s shit. Nyjah has connections with one of the hotel owners, so he gets rooms or free without question and even has keys on hand. And they’re not the card keys. I’m talking old school metal keys.
I’m usually numb as hell whenever I enter the lobby, but tonight I’m wired, my emotions buzzing inside me, my stomach burning with lingering memories of last night. My head still hurts from last night and my wrist is a little bruised from where Tenner gripped me.
I don’t want to be here.
“Do you have the key Nyjah gave you?” I ask Elington as we get out of the cab and stand in front of the entrance doors. There’s a guy smoking a cigarette with the hoodie pulled over his head, leaning against the wall, watching us intently, probably because he knows what I am. Other than that there’s no one else around, but that’s normal for this place.
Elington nods as he pays the cab driver, then shuts the door. He takes a deep inhale as he studies the dimly lit, dingy, outdated hotel that rises up to the night sky. “Yeah… lets get this over with.”
Okay, that’s a new one. It’s like he doesn’t’ want to be here, which considering he paid a ton for this date, makes no sense. I want to ask him what’s up, but I also don’t want to give Reagan anymore of a reason to go to the Dellefontes so I keep my lips sealed as we head to the front door. I’m very aware that the guy following me tracks me with his eyes. I try to see what he looks like beneath the shadows of his hoodie, but he’s fairly far away and there’s not enough light and all I can make out is he has eyes, a mouth, and lips.
When Elington opens the door for me, I tear my attention on him and focus on my job. Taking the lead, I cross the lobby and get onto the elevator. Elington fidgets the entire way in the elevator, his head tipped down, his shoulders slouched, as if he’s about to fold over and pass out.
Yeah, I’m definitely betting this one’s a backer outer. Or it’s something else… I eye him over, trying to read him. “You okay there?”
He nods way too swiftly. “Yeah. Sure.”
I don’t believe him for one second and after last night, ever part of me screams to pull out my gun. I keep an eye on him my hand near my side. He only lifts his head when the elevator beeps and the doors open. “After you,” he says motioning for me to get out first.
I force a smile, then step out, noticing that he has a tin trail of sweat on his forehead. Something’s not right.
Reagan told me I had to come tonight for the simple reason that I was going to keep doing my job or else he’d give out my location. I was also going to take on more clients and start helping with deals by using my charming looks and personality to dazzle his clients. The problem with this is that if any of his clients no who I am then I’m screwed. But now I’m wondering if this is a setup. Maybe Elington is helping set me up for Reagan.
Elington lets me take the lead as I walk down the slender hallway, lined with shut doors. It’s silent, which is typical for this hotel, but I find myself desperate to hear a noise. I casually let my fingers graze my thigh, the reminder usually bringing me comfort but not tonight.
“Which room number are we in?” I glance over my shoulder as Elington who’s wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Um…” He looks around at the numbered doors, seeming more nervous than when we had dinner. Then lifts his hand and points at the to the last door on the left. “It’s right there. That’s the one I think.”
I give my best smile then step back so he can unlock the door, my hand still at my side, near the gun. He steps forward, reaching into his pocket, then curses under his breath and moves back.
“Sorry, I… a… forgot the key,” he says tensely. “I’ll be right back.”
“But you said you already had it,” I call out, but he’s already rushing back down the hallway toward the elevators.
I have no idea where he’s going. If he doesn’t have the key than he has to get one from Nyjah and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand around here and wait for whatever comes next. I start to chase after him, but pause at the sound of a loud bang from inside one of the nearby rooms. My guard instantly goes up. Something’s about to happen. Something bad. I can feel it.
With my hand cupping my thigh, I cautiously move down the hallway with my eyes glued to every door as I pass by them. Even if there is someone in one of the rooms, they can clearly see me through the peephole and I’ll be oblivious. This is the worse kind of scenario for an ambush on my part. I think about how I got kidnapped two years ago and how I was thrown into a car. I wonder if they’ll give me the benefit of that this time of if they’ll just kill me. I won’t have Layton here to protect me this time either.
Layton. God, I miss him.
By the time I reach the end of the hall, nearing the elevators, I haven’t seen or heard anything at all and my fingers start to ease up from my thigh. But them lights flip off and I’m suffocated by darkness. “Shit,” I curse, tensing up again. Seconds later the backup lights flip on, but they give little light, much dimmer and fluorescent then the normal ones. As I squint to see my surroundings, I withdraw my gun, but keep it at my side. I wonder if I’ll be able to do it this time when it all comes down to it—take another life. I did it once, but only after I froze up. Then last night with Tenner proved that I don’t have the instincts to automatically protect myself.