Repairing the Hurt

Chapter 24

We pull into the hotel, takeout bags in hand. I leave Jessica in the car and walk into the lobby, right up to the counter where a short, young man is leaning.

"One double, please," I request from the man.

He eyes me, but suspiciously, not creepily.

"I need some ID," he responds, standing up straight and typing away at the keyboard.

I hand him my fake ID I had made a few months ago when we first made it to the States, and give him the rest of my information. I pay in cash and he looks me over again, but accepts the money and hands me two keycards.

I walk back out to a waiting Jessica and we grab our bags, locking the Jeep and walking back into the hotel.

The clerk eyes us, but says nothing as we enter the elevator.

"It starts tonight?" I confirm with her as the doors slide shut and carry us upward.

Jessica nods, "But everything cool is tomorrow."

The doors slide open and we walk out of the elevator, heading down the hall.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" I ask, coming to a stop in front of a narrow aluminum door, the same awful green as the carpet and walls.

The keycard slides into the lock with a click and a green light flashes at the handle.

I turn the knob and push the door open, cringing at the smell of cleaning supplies.

"I don't know if it's comforting knowing everything in here must have been bleached recently, or concerning that everything in here needed to be bleached," Jessica ponders aloud as she follows me into the room.

There are two double beds, covered in more of the awful green color, the pillows are almost a rustic theme but at least they look clean. The wall hangings consist of pictures of guitars and ranches. The fans look like windmills, and the curtains in front of the window have cattle on them.

I actually kind of like the room.

"At least it fits," Jessica mutters, setting her bags down on one of the beds.

Nashville is evident in this room. I doubt they even planned for the music festival this weekend. The normal decor works perfectly.

I set my bags down on the other bed and lean against them.

What am I doing?

I feel like this is the wrong thing to do. I took Jessica away, but what if she needed to stay? What if she needed to stay with Kota and Erica and deal? I don't know what to do. How do I handle a situation like this?

She needs a doctor, right? Someone to talk to. But why hasn't Kota already taken care of that?

I shame myself for the thought instantly.

Kota's got enough on his plate. I know he's doing all he can for her, he probably just doesn't know exactly what she needs.

I remember the blood on the tile floor, the razor blade in her hand.

I don't know what she needs either.

"Sang?" Jessica calls, and I get the feeling it isn't the first time she called my name.

"Hm?" I snap myself out of my daze.

"Can we get something to eat? I'm kind of hungry."

And cue the guilt. I totally forgot to eat, which means Jessica hasn't eaten either.

I'm a horrible babysitter.

"Of course," I quickly say, "What are you in the mood for?"

Jessica looks hesitant, "Can we have pizza?"