Urban Climber 2 (4 page)

Five-star hotel or not, I had the worst sleep of my life. Every time I rolled onto my side, my face felt like it was going to split or explode. I tried putting ice on it, courtesy of the minibar, but it made little to no difference.

I don’t know what I’m going to say to Mel when she sees me, but I can’t stay in this hotel forever. I checked in under the cover of darkness and leave before the sun gets up. I know it’s a little crazy, but I want to do all I can to avoid people at the moment. My arms are bruised, and my face is a mess. And then there’s my head—I feel like all the wires in my brain have disconnected.

Shit. I mean, what the hell do I do? Before this happened, I was just worried about little old me and my silly little problems. But now I’m worried about
everything
—the police getting involved, Mel, my parents, the family house, Hugo and how violent he was last night, whether I should marry him or not … I know I shouldn’t. I KNOW THAT. Every particle of me is screaming for me not to, but it’s not that simple. It’s not that easy to walk away, especially knowing that if I do, my family will lose everything.

I don’t drive straight back to Mel’s. I put it off for at least eight hours and then some. I’m not ready to answer questions yet. How am I supposed to convince anyone that everything is fine when I can’t even convince myself?

I drive back to where Hugo and I were parked last night when I spoke to Dad. I don’t know what made me come back here—I guess I thought maybe I’d get some sort of divine intervention, a message or a clear voice telling me exactly what I should do. But I don’t.

Instead, I sit and wait in silence, watching the planes come and go, watching the raindrops run down the tinted windows of the car. I thought I was smart; my grades always indicated that I was. But now I know there’s a heck of a big difference between street smart and school smart because if I were so smart, I wouldn’t even be contemplating getting back with him. Yet here I am, doing exactly that. And then there’s Ash. What the heck do I do about him? Push him away? Ignore the feelings I have every time I’m around him? Ignore the weekend we spent together? Ignore the freedom I felt in his arms?

When I finally convince myself that living on the side of the road in Hugo’s car isn’t a viable career option, it’s completely dark out. I’ve been here all day, yet it feels like only one minute has passed. I don’t know if I was awake the entire time or asleep. The drive back to Mel’s is long and boring. In normal circumstances, I would have had the radio up full-blast, windows down, and the breeze rippling through my hair. But not this time. Right now, I can’t think straight.

The noise from my red-faced monkey is driving me bonkers. The little furry shit is having a field day amongst the broken wires of my brain, and I want to scream at it, but I don’t even have the energy.

Thank god for Hugo’s inbuilt GPS, otherwise, I never would have found my way back. If you get in the wrong lane here, it’s not like you can just pull over and ask some dear old lady. Oh no. You’ve got to keep driving and driving in the nose-to-tail traffic until the next exit appears and then try to figure out where you went wrong and how you can get back on track.

I miss home. I miss my old life—the simple one. To make me seem even more cuckoo, I’m still wearing his ring—the one that he so romantically shoved onto my finger. The thing is, right at the moment, I can’t decide if it’s going to stay or go, but I’m worried that if I take it off, I’ll lose it. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

We’re done, monkey
! I smile, pulling into Mel’s driveway and yanking on the hand break.
I’m taking a shower now, and good luck trying to harsh my mellow in there
.

Minutes after I shuffle inside, my phone rings. It’s Hugo. I don’t know how I feel. Nervous? Numb? Frightened? If I’m honest with myself, probably all three. But I’ve got to take the call. I can’t ignore him or the situation. And anyway, I don’t even know
why
I’m hesitating. In the past, I would have jumped to hear his voice. Oh, I guess that’s why. It’s no longer the past. It’s the present—and the gift of that is far scarier than my past ever was.

“Hey, you.” I kick my shoes off as I lie back onto the bed. “Yes, I got home safe. I got in just a few minutes ago. How was your flight?”

He tells me it was enjoyable and then questions me about his car like it’s his first-born child. “Yes, yes I was very careful with your Lexus. I know it’s very expensive.”

I roll across my lumpy mattress, hearing the key rattle in the front door. “Mel must be home. I should go. Yup, okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Mom and Dad for me. Okay? Yup, I love you too. Bye.”

I don’t know why I said “I love you too.” That was a lie. But what was I supposed to say? Thank you? That would have gone down like a plane with no wings.

“Hellooo,” Mel calls out. “You here, missy moo? Or is that sparkling Lexus property of the mafia?”

“Mafia?” I snort, stepping out of my bedroom and walking into the hall. “Turn it up, crazy head.”

“So it’s yours?” she laughs, tossing her purse across the counter, eyes firmly glued to her mail.

“It’s all mine, babe, and you’re welcome to check the trunk if you don’t believe me,” I giggle.

“Holy shit—your face!” Mel squawks as she glances up, immediately rushing over to me.

“Please, don’t hug me so hard,” I wince. “It’s not as bad as it looks, promise. You know what I’m like. I bruise like a peach.”

“And your wrists?” Her mouth drops open. “What did he do to you? We have to call the police.”

“No one will be doing that.”

“Laura, he bashed you up.”

I shake my head. “I was drunk. We started drinking, and I walked into a door on the way into the hotel. It was a stupid mistake.”

“Don’t even try to say that’s what happened.”

“I - I did,” I stammer, not wanting to meet her eyes. “That’s what happened.”

“And what? He just gave you the Lexus?”

I shrug. “Guess so. He never liked my submarine; it’s a deathtrap.”

She crosses her arms. “And what? He’s not?”

“Mel,” I chew at the edge of my fingernail. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“And what the fuck is that?”

Mel swears more than me, sure. But not just out of the blue. And right now, she’s being so pissy I’m starting to think that living at the airport wouldn’t be such a bad option after all.

“Well?”

I exhale. “What are you talking about? Why are you getting so shitty with me?”

“That!” She frowns pointing at my newly acquired ring.

“Oh,” I mumble, “yeah.”

“What’s it doing on your hand?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

“He still wants to marry me, Mel. He um … he got me a new ring.”

She snorts. “Hah! As if the last one wasn’t big enough. Looks like he’s trying to make up for something else.”

“Shush.” I smirk. “I’m not talking to you about his dick.”

“Can we talk about what a dick
he
is?”

I frown. “No. Can’t do that either.”

“I’m sorry for swearing, but you’re not gonna marry him, are you? Not after all this. You’d have to be off your rocker.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

“So why are you wearing his ring?”

I can’t look at her. “It’s pretty,” I mumble. “And I didn’t want to lose it.”

“How can you forgive him after all he put you through, not even mentioning last night. HOW?”

I shrug. “Maybe I overreacted?”

“Overreacted?”

Knock. Knock
.

My lips pull into a smile. Whoever it is couldn’t have timed it better. “Are you going to get that?”

“Don’t think I’m not going to come straight back to what we’re talking about.”

“Yes, Mom,” I giggle.

Knock. Knock
. “Laura?” a deep voice calls out.

“Shit, it’s for you.” Mel whispers, her eyes as large as bagels. “Do you want me to call the police? Or should we barricade the door?”

My heart is racing but not from fear. I can’t do this right now. I can’t see him like this. “Can you get that for me, please?”

“But what if it’s Hugo?” she squeaks, clutching onto my arm.

“You say ‘Hugo’ like he’s an axe murderer.” I roll my eyes. “It won’t be Hugo. I was only talking to him a moment ago, and he’s back home. Just, please, can you get that? I’ll be in the den.”

“You mean hiding in the den?”

“Yes,
hiding
in the den,” I giggle.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get it?”

I shake my head. “We both know who it is, and I’m sorry, but I’m just not ready to see him yet.”

“Okay,” she exhales, shuffling to the door. “You hide.”

“Hey, you must be Mel.”

Fudge, I so wasn’t ready to see him again. If just his voice is making me want to hump the wall, I definitely need more time.

“Oh, um, hey,” she giggles, “yeah, that’s me.”

Great, now she’s getting all hot and bothered. She’s such a flirt. It’s almost embarrassing when she wants someone. And with her figure and looks, nine times out of ten, she gets exactly what she wants.
Whore
.

“We haven’t met, but my name is Ash—Tom Ashton. I go to school with your roommate, Laura. We went out over the weekend.”

She giggles again. “I know who you are, Mr. Ashton, and may I just say, enchanté.”

What the—? Now she’s French? That’s the last time I ask her to answer the door for any guy who comes to see me.

“Is everything okay with Ra?”

She looks back over her shoulder, her pouty red lips pulling into a straight line. “Ah, yeah, I guess so. Why, handsome? Is there a problem I can help with?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to contact her, but she hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts.”

“Maybe she’s out of minutes,” she giggles.

“Well, she wasn’t in class today either, so that’s when I knew something had to be up ‘cause I don’t think she’d ever miss a class.”

She pulls a face. “Oh.”

“Is she here?”

Mel looks back over her shoulder, and I shake my head. “Um … no. I’m sorry, she just popped out.”

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“But you’ve seen her since yesterday? She was home?”

“Yes,” she nods. “I was talking with her just a few minutes ago.”

“And she’s okay?”

She shrugs. “I guess so; she’s hard to read.”

He laughs. “You’re joking, right? I don’t think she’d win an Oscar for her acting.”

“Maybe not around you,” she laughs, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. “And I can see why.”

“Can you tell her I stopped by?”