So This Is Love? {NYSM: J. Daniel Atlas}

Chapter 9

A cool breeze blew over Amber's temple making wisps of hair fly across her face. A solitary hair ticked the side of her nose making her scrunch it up in irritation. Her green eyes snapped open and she stared around her new surroundings.

The crisp, clean white sheets of her bed shone in the light of the full that was shining through her window. A small flatscreen television sat across from her on an oaken table. The remote lay untouched beside it on top of a guide with the crappy channels listened below.

Amber realized she was back in the hotel that she and Rhodes has checked into during their stay in New Orleans.

How long had she been asleep?

Amber sat up and massaged her scalp with her fingertips. She remembered the show, chasing Jack, then chasing Daniel-oh. Right. Daniel.

She could practically feel her face begin to heat up in the dark room at the memory of the chaste kiss.

What had she been thinking? Kissing a convict! The very thought of it made her stomach churn! Or was it exploding with butterflies?

Shaking her head, Amber forced the sheets off her legs and sat up. Wooziness set in but she forced the lightheadedness to disappear.

Her bare feet gently padded across the thin carpet towards the door. Pulling the heavy door wide, she stepped out into the cold hallway. An ugly patterned fuzzy carpet provided the only decoration in the plain hall.

Amber swallowed nervously and quietly walked over to room 437 and knocked.

Muffled noises came from within the room before she heard the sound of the bolt being taken across the door. With an ominous creak, a disheveled Dylan Rhodes opened the door. He ran hands down the front of his face, trying to wake up.

"I don't want room service. Go away."

"Dylan, I won't hesitate to slap you across the face if you need woken up," Amber said smiling faintly.

Dylan's brown eyes shot open and he stopped leaning against his door.

"Amber, you're awake!"

"No actually this is all just a dream," she retorted irritably.

"Shut up and-and," Rhodes paused to yawn before adding, "C-come in so I can question you."

Amber rolled her eyes but obeyed as he opened the door wide to let her in. To her surprise, she noticed that the bed was not slept in. The sheets were thrown about haphazardly as if someone had just thrown off the sheets to get out of bed, but it seemed off.

"Sit down, a-a-anywhere," Dylan yawned again as he flicked on the lights.

He groaned loudly and rubbed his watering eyes.

"So let's start at t-the beginning, what happened to you after, after the show?"

Amber swallowed thickly. She couldn't tell him...everything. Especially not-that didn't happen. Nope nope nopety nope didn't even happen.

"I chased Wilder but lost him," she said slowly, "Then I chased Atlas and caught him. Sort of."

She glanced at Rhodes. He had a bushy eyebrow raised and was looking at her skeptically, through his dark brown irises.

"W-w-what do you mean, sort of?" He asked yawning slightly.

"I, may have, possibly, beyond the shadow of a doubt, not hypothetically, erm, to tell the truth I, uh-"

"Spit it out, Journey we don't have all night," Rhodes muttered as he rested his exhausted chin in the palm of his hand.

Amber closed her eyes, feeling the familiar pulsing of her skull as a headache began.

"I shot him."

Rhodes' head shot from his hand and he stared at her.

"Y-you what!"

"Shot him," Amber said bluntly.

"Are you serious?" He asked barely containing a smile.

Amber pursed her lips.

"Yep, I shot him in the calf. He wouldn't shut up about it," she said feeling her conscience sting.

Rhodes laughed for a full ten seconds.

He stopped after noticing Amber's impassive face and chuckled to himself.

"I really hate that guy," he explained as he cupped his chin once more, "What happened next?"

Amber felt her heart begin to race. Her mouth became dry and her tongue turned to lead. She blinked nervously and twisted her hands in her lap.

"I used my scarf to stop the blood-"

"Shame, the idiot deserved to bleed out," Dylan interrupted. He smiled at the thought.

Amber raised an eyebrow before continuing.

"Nice to know you're a total psychopath, Rhodes. Anyway, Merritt appeared and used his mentalism on me which in turn rendered me unconscious. I awoke here-"

"A full day later," Dylan finished, "Makes sense. Except one thing."

Amber's heart nearly pulsed free of her chest. He couldn't know, how could he?

"How did you come by this?" Dylan asked holding up a tracking device that The Horsemen used on their workers.

Amber peered at it curiously.

"That's what you tracked me with?"  She asked quickly.

Dylan nodded sleepily as he yawned again.

"It's what I thought I was tracking Reeves with. But it led me right to you."

Amber's eyes flicked back to the device.

"It's a smart move on their part," she said slowly, "Get rid of the evidence and the ability to be tracked. Why they didn't just stick it on a random person, I don't know."

Dylan nodded tiredly.

"That's what I thought," he said sleepily.

They both sat in silence staring at the tracker.

"Get out."

Amber blinked at Dylan.

"But-"

"Nope, I need sleep," he mumbled, "There's the door."

"I know, Rhodes. I used it to get in here."

Dylan mumbled something indistinguishable under his breath as he collapsed onto the bed.

The sheets billowed up like white phantoms along the sides of the bed. With a slight groan, the bed sank to accommodate the sudden weight of its new resident.

Amber laughed lightly at the man who raised his head off the fluffy snow colored pillow.

"Get out, Journey!"

"Going!"

It was only after she had left her FBI partner's room and tried the handle of her own door, that she realized she had forgotten her room key inside her room.

AN-
I have decided that I'm just going to put Studio C videos for people to watch at the top of my chapter...partly because they're funny but mostly because I'm too lazy to look up pictures of the Four Horsemen