Chapter Two:
Rachel Cromwell
Hayden
The woman and I did not say a word until we reached my room, which was at the end of the hall. I tried my best to keep an even pace, but it was more than obvious how bad I was limping; she silently slowed down to give me a chance to catch up with her. This section of the hotel was in much worse shape than the lower floors; the carpeted floors creaked like the damned were trying to crawl through the fibers, the wallpaper was fraying where it connected with the ceiling, and the only decorations that sat on the side tables were construction material. There didn’t seem to be any overtly disgusting bugs or uncleaned rooms, but the decaying building was a bit off putting.
She stuck one of my keycards into the slot and waited for the light to turn green, then motioned for me to follow her inside. I clung to my backpack strap like a child on his first day of kindergarten as I shuffled in behind her, the knot in my stomach tightening once the door shut behind us. “The room’s a bit dated, but I think it’ll do the trick for a while.” She flicked the light switch and air conditioning on, “Jack told me you’d come by. Tell me, did you toss his card first, or come straight here?” She asked nonchalantly, moving to the window so she could pull the curtains closed firmly.
“I, well…?” I mumbled in shame.
“I figured. He said you were stubborn, but I’m glad you came regardless.” Her tone was trying to be friendly, but I was stuck in purely defensive mode, so I didn’t take it that way.
I shrunk until my back was against the white door and glared at her from under my hair. “I don’t want handouts. I didn’t know this was where he sent me.” I lied with a sharp glare.
“Why is it so bad that you need some help? I’m just trying to get a read on your situation is all. No need to be so defensive,” She offered with a raised eyebrow.
My throat thickened, and I did my best to keep my attitude up, “I just wanted a place to stay for a few days. I’ll find somewhere else.”
She did not lose an ounce of her previous confidence as she spoke. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, and was unfazed by my near aggressive nature. “Sure you will. You can go wherever, but you won’t find the help you need from a trashy motel the way you will here. It’s safer to accept that you need a friend, rather than tough it out on your own.”
My hand reached for the doorknob immediately, “I can take care of myself.”
She set a stack of towels on the bed, then sat down and folded one leg over the other. Her movements were jerky, like her limbs were too long, which fit since she herself had to be around six feet. “I never said you couldn’t. I’m sure you’ve done a wonderful job of taking care of yourself, but maybe it’s time you let someone else shoulder the burden?” She held her hand out for me to shake, but when I refused to take it, shrugged, “I’m Rachel; this is my decrepit, piece of shit hotel, and if you’d like, your new home. We can skip formalities and learn to like one another, or you can see how far those beat up sneakers will take you. Your choice, kiddo.”
“Don’t demean me. I’m not some helpless little druggie for you to coerce.” I shot back as I sunk into the corner, eyeing all of my escapes should this conversation go further south.
She tilted her head in surprise, as if her tone had been inviting this whole time, and I were being ridiculous for being so untrusting. “I’m not at all trying to demean you. In fact, I think you’re incredibly brave. Whatever you’re running from must have been one hell of a fight. Jack said you looked like hell, but seeing it myself is heartbreaking.” She brought a hand up and placed it over her heart, as a way to show she was truly empathizing with my situation, “You can certainly hop on the next bus out of here, or, you can take advantage of having somewhere quiet and safe to sleep while you screw your head back on.”
“You know nothing about me, about my situation. I’ve always taken care of myself…”
Rachel’s expression softened, and she moved to fold the towels she had set down as she spoke, to try and lessen the seriousness of the conversation. “Honey, I know you’re scared; it’s obvious to see that, and I don’t blame you. You look like you’ve been kicked down a dirt road, tossed out of a moving vehicle, and you’re about to crack from the stress. There is nothing wrong with accepting help. We’re a good group of people, once you get to know us.” Her smile lifted slyly, as if she’d cracked the code on how to convince me, “Besides, I could use someone like you around the hotel.”
“Someone… like me?” I unsurely prompted, my shoulders falling slack finally.
Rachel could see she was chipping at my defensive wall, “You’re right; you’re not a druggie, just a kid in a fucked situation. You also aren’t someone who takes things willingly, so I have an offer for you. You take two nights to clean up and rest, and on Monday morning, you start helping me take a crack at repairs around here. Nothing big if you don’t know your way around a wrench, just some painting and cleaning. It’ll give you something to do while you figure out what you want to do next.” She gestured to the disheveled wallpaper to prove she did need the help, and her offer was genuine.
“I suppose… the hotel does need some work…” I mumbled hesitantly.
Rachel chuckled in agreement, and folded her hands against her knees casually, “That it does, unfortunately. In return for your help, you get breakfast and dinner on me, and this room for free. The place might be falling apart, but it’s a hell of a lot better than a shelter. You keep your room and my hotel clean, you get a small paycheck, too. You treat me and my family right, you have a place for as long as you’d like.”
“How many people do you offer all that to?” I sniffed, though I did reach for the desk chair and grip the back of it, as I was considering sitting down.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Her eyes darkened a shade, and her smile flat-lined slightly, “Two, and they happen to be my son and partner. I can give a room away to anyone, but not my home. Jack trusts you, so I trust you. He didn’t just trust you, but insisted I help you. He saw something in you that made him beg me to find you, even if you didn’t make your way here. He doesn’t send me just anyone. You’re at a good age to take life by the reins and turn things around, so long as you have the opportunity to do so. I’d hate to see you waste away on a bus seat when I can offer you a decent solution.”
I stiffly pulled sixty dollars from my shirt pocket and slapped it on the desk beside me, “I pay for the first two nights if I’m not working.”
Rachel laughed so abruptly that I jumped, and shook her head as she stood to collect the money. She stuffed it into her bra and ruffled my hair aggressively, then pulled the door open, “I like you, kid. Would you like some time on your own, or do you want me to make you something to eat? I completely understand if you need an evening alone.”
I nodded wearily, “I’d… really like some time alone, please. I kind of just, want to order a pizza and get some sleep, if that’s ok?”
“That is more than ok,” she patted my hair gently, cautiously, but enough to make me smirk in relief, “I’ll give you tonight to rest, but tomorrow, I want to see you in my dining room. I’ll bring you breakfast so you can sleep in, but dinner ends by eight, so be there or be square. I look forward to seeing who you become, Hayden.”
╪
Rachel offered me a box with some basic toiletries and a change of clean clothes, just a long sleeved shirt, sweats, socks and underwear, but I was more than grateful for something warm to change into. The two other outfits I’d stuffed into my bag were soaked from walking in the rain, but she offered to wash whatever I had with me. I was very reluctant to allow this, but her warm smile made it impossible to not ease up and give in. She promised to bring up the delivery pizza I ordered, but beyond that, gave me the space I asked for to sort myself out for the evening.
Once she left to throw my clothes in the wash, I shut the door and limped back to the bed so I could sit down and stiffly try and tug my shoes off. I bit my lip to keep from full blown screaming out when my ankle high sneakers let my foot free; I didn’t realize until now how vital the pressure of the sneaker walls had been for keeping my ankle together. My bones cracked vilely when I wedged the sneaker off, and once free, throbbed in indescribable pain. The ankle itself was so black and purple that I could barely make out the joint, but I hoped a night off it would do the trick, and hopped to the bathroom on one foot to be safe.
The shower let out incredibly hot water that penetrated my back wonderfully, loosening my aching muscles enough that I actually shed a tear in relief. I’d collected more dirt and dust than I thought; the floor of the shower was almost black from whatever came off my body, but I wasn’t entirely concerned by this. It was incredibly difficult to fully shampoo my hair with how busted my left hand was, but for now, I did the best I could and prayed Rachel had some sports tape or gauze in the first aid kit above the toilet. I luckily found just enough to get the job done.
The mirror was steamed completely by the time I was done showering. At first, I didn’t have the nerve to face it head on, but realized I should take inventory on how bad I truly looked to people around me. I cleared the condensation away with my elbow, and once my image shimmered into view, I exhaled loudly. The bruises were much worse than I thought; I raised a hand to the one around my neck and held it just inches from the initial bruise, then dropped my hand just as quickly. I couldn’t stand looking at the horrendous black splotches, and only allowed myself another glance so I could take note of which ones I would need to hide when I went downstairs tomorrow.
When I exited the bathroom, I found my food along with a television guide, stack of assorted books, and a bucket of ice were waiting on the desk. A small smile forced its way up my mouth at the sight, and I shook my head to myself before hopping to the bed to get dressed. Rachel also spread a heated blanket over the comforter, and set two extra pillows on the bed that I used to prop my ankle up. It felt slightly better elevated like this, and combined with the four ibuprofen I swallowed and the ice I added, it would do the job for tonight.
I found some random movie to watch while I ate and wrapped my hand in the gauze I’d thankfully found, and once I settled under the thick blankets and cranked the heat setting up, a comfort like none other overwhelmed me. All of the adrenaline I had been riding on crashed in a single moment, and when it did, my body fell slack into the bed like it had deflated.
I’d really done it; I’d really left Pennsylvania. I finally grew the balls to leave, but now that I was out, I had utterly no clue what to do with myself. I had no sense of direction, no plan… I barely knew the state I’d ended up in, let alone where to go next. I knew no one beyond the family I was running from, and eight hundred odd bucks was only going to last so long before I was flat broke. If I didn’t make smart moves now I was going to end up in serious trouble, and I had to face those facts head on. The reality of my decision grew heavier every second I sat there and stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks that had been crudely patched some time ago.
Yes, I was free, but I no longer had a home to go to. I did not have the security of knowing where I was at all times the way I did in DuBois, or of having a steady roof over my head at night, even if it was the most dangerous place in the world for me. I didn’t have places to hide when I was scared, or familiar spots around town to walk to when I needed to clear my head. All I had was my two legs, and currently, one of them was out of commission. This made me a bit uneasy, as in reality, I was pretty trapped in my current situation.
And yet, on the flip side, I was utterly ecstatic. I was so damn happy that nothing else mattered in that moment, not a single thing. Not the incredible pain my body was in, not the uncertainty of the future, and certainly not the voicemails that I’d been ignoring on my phone. I decided to focus on what I did have at this point; I was in a bed, in a room with my own bathroom, in a hotel with people who’d been nothing but kind so far. I had a tentative job offer if I chose to stop being stubborn, and one that seemed to be fairly easy. I could be sleeping under a bridge right now, but instead, I was being shielded from the coming cold night air by warm sheets. Things could be, and were, much worse.
But what if this was all just false hope? What if this obtainable future was a charade, and at any moment, threatened to collapse around me? What if… What if Liam really was coming after me? He’d done so numerous times, and no matter how far I’d gotten, always seemed to sniff out every place I ran to. The farthest I’d ever gotten was Bellefonte, but even then, he knew someone who knew someone… who locked me in a storage closet until his friend, Kit, drove out to collect me. The entire hour and half ride, Kit kept me child safety locked into the back seat with a gun in his free hand to keep me from doing anything stupid. When we got back home, he walked me up the steps and shoved me into the house, then stood guard outside the front door while Liam beat the ever-loving shit out of me in the basement. Not once did Kit ever intervene, and I knew this time would be no different. It was an experience I never wanted to repeat, and knew if he caught me, would be much worse than I could ever imagine.
I decided I’d tortured myself enough for one night, and forced myself to ignore these nagging thoughts before letting my head fall into the pillows. My stomach was overly full from the pizza and soda I purged on, but it had been so long since I felt this full that I welcomed the feeling. I left one of the lights on as an added layer of comfort, but beyond that, the dingy room had become much more welcoming now that I was settled into it properly. The quiet of the hotel was also incredibly satisfying. I was almost afraid to make any noise that could disturb the silence, so instead, I let that silence lull me into a deep sleep that I desperately needed to face the world in the morning.