Page 70 of Ruthless Ambition
With my hands clasping the back of my neck, I tilted my head down to look at my feet. I’d cleaned the house the other night. Then last night they had been in here again, touching my belongings, invading my space, violating my sense of safety. I’d slept so well in Onyx’s guest bedroom, but here and now, the exhaustion and the sense of unease were back.
“I can’t stay here,” I told the empty room. But I couldn’t go back to him. I needed an alternative. Somewhere neutral. Making my way back to my bedroom, I got a small suitcase out of the storage closet and packed a few suits and casual clothes, and I tried not to think about the fact someone could have touched them.
Checking everything, I called another Uber, and I made my way to a hotel downtown off of Broadway.
“I don’t have a booking,” I told the girl at reception. “Do you have any availability for ten, maybe fourteen days?” I asked as I pulled out the black credit card. Her polite, tight, thin-lipped expression transferred into a wide, beaming smile.
“Of course, let me see what I can do for you.”
Onyx was right — ugh, that sucked — but my home was modest compared to my income. I didn’t splash my cash; I saved for rainy days.
Or days when stalkers trashed your bed with their bodily fluids.
Ten minutes later, and I was letting myself into a junior suite, thanking the bellboy for taking my small, wheeled luggage and overnight bag and placing them beside the wide king-size bed.
Unpacking and putting my clothes and toiletries away, I then undressed and spoiled myself with a long, extra hot shower. Refreshed and feeling clean, I crawled onto the bed, flicked on the TV, with the volume low, and closed my eyes.
I wasn’t sure of the time, but it was unlikely it was past ten o’clock in the morning, and for the first time in a very long time, I basically went back to bed.
Room service got me through the day when I woke up, and then I curled up on the couch, content as I read my book on my Kindle, by a window overlooking downtown.
A day in a hotel room, recharging my batteries, was exactly what the doctor ordered. In the morning, I felt like myself again, and I owed that feeling of wellness to no one else but myself.
I was ready to face my fear. I didn’t need a Devil beside me; I was all I needed.
