Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
This place was a far cry from the last place I had stayed, to say the least. Neither could claim being fancy, but at least the hotel downtown had been clean. The shower curtain was covered in mildew. The bed had a sad looking dip in the middle. And the parking lot had a handful of cars in it that had clearly seen better days.
The room might be a dump, as they said in the old noir films, but they had taken cash. And at this hour, it was quiet. I had no idea what to expect later. I needed to shower and eat something. But first…
I washed my hands, flinching as the raw skin met water and soap. My knees were even worse. I bit back tears, refusing to feel sorry for myself. I might not be a wise woman of the world, but I was catching on quickly. I didn’t have a choice.
I needed a better disguise and a fake ID. No one would be looking for a blond with short hair. I decided to clean up and then go to the drug store for supplies. I needed to put something on my wounds. And I would get some hair dye and scissors. I hated to cut my hair. It reminded me so much of my mother. I wasn’t especially vain, but I did love my hair.
All the same, if I was going to make it, the hair had to go.
Maybe someday, somewhere, I could grow it out again.
An hour later I had a belly full of fast food and my hands and knees were clean and wrapped. I had also died my hair blond. It was… interesting. I did not look like the same person. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I did feel empowered. Cutting it short would be even more profound.
I wore a long baggy t-shirt that I often slept in. It was a faded pink top from some high end Italian brand. And it was one of the few clean things I had left in my backpack.
Being clean with a full belly was probably the best feeling in the world. Something I had been far too privileged to appreciate before today, I realized with a hint of shame. But I was grateful for it now.
I closed my eyes and said a little prayer for grace, not asking for anything in particular other than safety and protection for all of my friends and the few family members I still held affection for. Then I held the majority of my now blond hair into the semblance of a ponytail and opened the scissors around it.
“Please don’t do that.”
I stifled a scream at the soft, gravelly voice coming from mere inches away. A hand closed gently over my wrist as a man stepped into the bathroom. He was huge- tall and broad, wearing worn in old jeans and a leather jacket. But his startlingly bright eyes were kind. That was my first thought as he tugged the scissors away from my hair. My hand relaxed, allowing my hair to tumble over my shoulders.
Our eyes met in the mirror and I realized with a feeling of wonder, that I was not afraid.
“Hello Anastasia. My name is Vice. I am here to help you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Vice
“Put this on,” I said, handing her some clean clothes. My voice was rougher than I had intended. “I will be taking these,” I added, holding the scissors up before sliding them into my back pocket for safe keeping.
She had been about to cut off that glorious hair of hers. Not that it would have mattered. She would be beautiful with short hair, blond, brunette, redheaded, or bald.
Not just beautiful either. The most beautiful girl I had ever seen. The most beautiful girl anyone had ever seen.
She stared at the shopping bag I had placed in her hands, then back at me. I was trying to ignore her long legs, bare under the t-shirt she wore. I was trying to ignore the scent of her, fresh, clean, and so feminine it made my inside ache. I was trying to ignore how close she was, and how close the bed was, behind me.
Get that thought out of your head, buddy. It is not the time. If you are very, very lucky, you might get there. Someday.
I took a quick look to make sure she wouldn’t escape me and closed the door to give her some privacy without shutting it completely.
I packed up her shit, doing my best not to imagine her sliding into the clean panties and bra I had brought her, along with a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and light jacket. There were socks and sneakers in there too. I knew she needed all of that, and more. I had already stacked the house in the woods with supplies, using my own money.