Always You (Love Hurts 1)

“I can’t just leave, I’m under police investigation. The school is putting me up in a hotel for a few nights,” I replied glumly.

“Which hotel?” she asked.

“Wrenn, that is such a bad idea . . . ”

“I know. But not seeing you will be torture,” she muttered.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” I asked, holding my breath.

“I forgive you. I mean, I understand why you didn’t tell me, and it doesn’t change how I feel about you…” her voice trailed off.

“But?” I prodded gently.

“I need to think. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you. Even though we can’t, anyway.”

“We can see each other, just not there. Maybe speak to Kass and see if she has any ideas on where we could meet?”

“Good idea. I’ll talk to her today,” Wrenn replied. “I better go. Layna just got home. Text me later?”

“Okay. Bye.” I hung up, still reeling over what had happened. Though I knew I’d done nothing wrong where Paige was concerned, I couldn’t see this ending well.

***

The motel on the edge of town was dark and seedy, and apparently all the school thought I was worth. The stained sheets made the bed look uninviting, and the scratching sound of cockroaches digging around on the floor made my stomach turn. I texted Wrenn to let her know I was okay. There was no point letting her know how bad this place was; I was already worried she was going to come clean to Layna. I didn’t need to give her more reason to.

I couldn’t stay there. Grabbing my bag, I exited the motel room, slamming the door shut behind me. I’d rather sleep in my car than in that shithole. I threw my bag in the back and slid into the drivers seat. I searched on my phone for a hotel in Hollisbrook. I’d stay one night there and then go to Mom’s. If the police wanted to speak to me, they could do so there.

After booking a room and going inside, I threw my bag down on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. How the hell did things get this fucked up? I dreaded what the police were going to ask me. Had I been inappropriate with a student at the school? Well technically, yes, but it’s not what you think! Yeah right, that was going to go down well.

***

What the hell was that?

It was pitch black. It took me a moment to remember where I was and why I was there. I fumbled blindly for a bedside lamp. My fingers grasped the cord. Light filled the room.

Bang, bang, bang.

I jumped up and headed for the door. Wrenn stood there, frowning at me. She ducked inside and shut the door.

“You look like shit,” she observed.

“Thanks.” I rubbed my aching head. “How did you know I was here?” I croaked.

She gave me a strange look. “You messaged me.” She leaned over, and for a second I thought she was going to kiss me. “Have you been drinking?”

Had I? I glanced over at the minibar, and the several empty bottles that lay scattered over the counter. Well, that explained a few things.

She walked over to them and disposed of the empty bottles in the garbage. Next, she took the coffee pot and half-filled it with water, then coffee, before plugging it in. In the back of my mind stuck the words ‘memory loss.’ Like every other time any possible symptom surfaced, the question raced through my mind: was this the beginning? Did I have it?

Even a few weeks ago, the phone slipping out of my grasp at Wrenn’s. I’d gotten out of there so fast after that.

“I’m going to tell Layna everything,” Wrenn announced.

“Wrenn, don’t—”

“Do you have a better idea?” she asked, spinning around, her eyebrows raised.

I shut my mouth. No, I didn’t. I sank onto the bed and sighed. Wrenn sat next to me and reached for my hand. She was so warm. How did she do that?