Chapter 3:
1670 Words
WREN
By the end of my shift, I was exhausted enough to fall asleep standing.
I dragged the mop bucket down the west hallway while trying not to think about the stranger bleeding all over my bed at home. Every few minutes, I caught myself wondering if he had woken up yet, or if I would return to find a corpse in my room and blood permanently soaked into the mattress I could barely afford.
That would be just my luck.
“Wren.”
I closed my eyes briefly at the sound of Dale’s voice behind me. I had spent the entire night successfully avoiding him, which apparently offended him on a personal level.
I turned slowly. “Yeah?”
He leaned against the wall with that lazy grin I hated so much. His uniform shirt was half unbuttoned, and I could already smell alcohol on him from several feet away. “You rushing home again?”
“I finished late.”
“You always finish late.”
“That’s usually what happens when people leave extra work for me.”
His grin widened instead of fading. “You saying I should protect you from the others?”
I almost laughed at the irony.
Dale liked acting like he was helping me. Giving me shifts nobody else wanted, pretending he was doing me favors whenever he overlooked mistakes that weren’t even mine to begin with. But every nice thing he did came with strings attached, and lately those strings had started pissing me off.
“I can protect myself,” I replied while reaching for the bucket handle again.
His hand landed on my shoulder before I could move away.
“You should come have a drink with me tonight,” he said quietly. “You’re too tense all the time.”
I stepped back carefully, slipping out from beneath his hand without making it obvious. “I’m tired, Dale.”
“You’re always tired.”
“Because I work night shifts.”
His eyes traveled slowly over my face. I hated the way he looked at me now, like he had already decided something and was only waiting for me to stop resisting long enough to take it.
“You know,” he murmured, “most women in your situation would try harder to be friendly.”
I tried to keep my expression calm though my inside said otherwise. I finally looked up at him. Men like Dale enjoyed watching people's reactions, but the safest thing was always pretending not to notice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said instead.
For a second, irritation flickered across his face before he forced the grin back into place. “Yeah,” he replied slowly. “Tomorrow.”
I gave a small nod and grabbed my coat before leaving the motel as quickly as possible. The entire walk home, I could still feel his hand on my shoulder.
By the time I reached the mechanic shop, snow had started falling again. All I wanted was a hot shower, three hours of sleep, and maybe a small miracle where the stranger had somehow disappeared from my room before I got back.
I unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside, already preparing myself for another long night taking care of a stranger I absolutely should have left in the snow.
I stopped abruptly, my eyes widened at the empty bed. The blanket I had wrapped around him earlier now laid half off the mattress. The chair beside the bed had been moved slightly. One of the used bandages was placed near the sink.
My heart started pounding hard enough to hurt. I had officially died because of a mysterious injured man. What an embarrassing way to go.
I slowly shut the door behind me and reached toward the knife strapped beneath my jeans.
“You move quietly for someone with broken ribs.” The voice came from the corner of the room.
I turned instantly.
He sat in the chair near the heater, one arm resting across his ribs where I had stitched him up the night before. Even injured, he looked dangerous sitting there in the dark. His broad shoulders nearly swallowed the chair entirely, and his dark eyes followed me carefully like he still hadn’t decided whether I was a threat.
“You’re not supposed to be walking around,” I said before I could stop myself.
His gaze didn’t leave mine. “You stitched me badly.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “You were dying in a snowbank.”
“And yet somehow you’re offended.”
The nerve of this man.
I shut the door behind me harder than necessary and dropped my bag onto the table. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
His mouth twitched faintly, almost like he was fighting a smile. That annoyed me even more.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, he asked, “Who are you?”
“The person who stopped you from freezing to death in a snowbank.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
I folded my arms. “And you bleeding all over my floor doesn’t answer mine.” Then I pointed toward the bandages around his ribs. “You owe me money, by the way.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Medical supplies are expensive,” I continued. “And dragging an unconscious man through a blizzard was deeply unpleasant.”
“You always charge people you save?” he asked.
“Only the ones who ruin my blanket?”
That almost earned me a real smile this time. Almost.
I was just about to demand answers about who he was and why half the town apparently wanted him dead when someone started pounding on my door hard enough to shake the walls.
I froze instantly.
“Wren!” Dale’s voice echoed from outside. “Open the damn door.”
My blood went cold.
The stranger’s expression changed immediately, every line of his body suddenly alert.
I moved toward the door quietly before turning back toward him. “Closet,” I whispered urgently.
He didn’t move. “Now,” I hissed.
Another loud bang rattled the door. “I know you’re in there!”
I grabbed the stranger by the arm before he could argue and shoved him toward the tiny closet near the bathroom. He moved stiffly, clearly still injured, but thankfully smart enough not to ask questions.
“Stay quiet,” I whispered.
Then I closed it and forced myself to breathe normally before opening the apartment door.
Dale stood there swaying a little with flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. One look at his face told me immediately this was no longer about flirting, he had finally run out of patience.
“What do you want?” I asked carefully.
“You stole from the motel.”
I blinked once. “What?”
“Money’s missing from the register.” He pushed against the door before I could stop him. “I’m checking your room.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
“Then you won’t mind if I inspect the room.”
Before I could answer, he shoved the door fully open and walked inside.
“You can’t just come in here.”
“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asked, kicking the door shut behind him.
The smell of whiskey filled the air almost immediately, making it difficult for me to breathe properly. Dale's eyes moved around lazily before returning to me. This time, he didn’t bother pretending to act friendly.
“I’ve been patient with you,” he said. “Real patient.”
I took a careful step backward.
“And honestly?” He laughed softly. “I’m tired of pretending.”
My back hit the wall before I realized how close he’d gotten.
“Dale,” I warned quietly, “move.”
“Or what?”
His hand grabbed my waist roughly, pulling me closer.
“You think anybody here’s gonna care what happens to you?” he asked quietly. “You’re a convict, nobody likes you. Nobody’s looking out for you.”
His grip tightened around me.
“I could report you, you know,” he said casually while reaching up to touch my hair with his other hand. “Tell your parole officer you stole from the motel. Maybe say I found drugs here too.”
His hand slid down my arm slowly. “Unless,” he murmured, “you stop making things difficult.”
I held back the rage boiling inside of me, staying perfectly still, while he mistook my silence for surrender. I watched as his confidence grew the second I stopped fighting.
My hand slowly slid toward my thigh, reaching for the knife. Three years in prison had taught me many things. How to spot danger before it arrived. How to cut someone quickly enough that they never got the chance to scream.
I used to save lives for a living. Ironically, that also meant I knew exactly how to end them.
“You should’ve listened to me earlier,” Dale murmured while pressing harder against me.
I waited for the best angle to strike when suddenly Dale was ripped away from me so violently that I stumbled sideways in shock.
Everything happened too fast. One second he was pinning me against the wall, the next, someone had him by the throat. Dale barely managed a strangled sound before the stranger twisted his neck with finality.
My mouth opened in shock as Dale’s body collapsed onto the floor. I stared at him, at the unnatural angle of his neck, and at the blood slowly spreading beneath his head. For several long seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
Slowly, my gaze shifted to the stranger. He just stood over the body breathing hard, one hand still flexing slightly from the force of the movement.
And just like that, the most dangerous thing in my room was no longer the drunken supervisor lying dead on my floor.
- Writer
