Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Oasis Inn ended up being exactly what I needed and more. Again, something I never imagined. The motel is the traditional single building with access from the parking lot to the rooms. Eleven rooms, a reception area, and a pool pretty much make up the whole thing.
Normally, this is not a place I would choose to stay. I lived a life spoiled. I wasn’t naïve enough to think everyone lived the way Diem and I did. I wasn’t a bitch about it either.
Life is a balance, and the scales are not tipping in my favor. They haven’t been in a long time.
One floor with doors on the outside so I can come and go without walking through the office area is dangerous as a single female, but the ability to take off on a whim is necessary. More importantly, they didn’t check my license, didn’t ask for a credit card, and don’t care what I’m running from. I pay by the week and wait. Yes, I have a credit card, one not tied to my old life, but I don’t know that I want the people on the other end of the line to track my spending. Hell, I’m not sure how much they follow me as it is, I don’t feel like they need to know when I buy tampons. If they want to track my cycle, let them dig in the fucking trash. The longer this goes on the more jaded I become.
The first week, I did everything with the card and cash provided to me. I guess the shock needed to wear off for me to realize that gave them more power over me being able to see what I spent their money on. Privacy isn’t available to me in many areas while I’m stuck waiting for them to tell me what comes next, but the ability to buy some things for myself matters. Maybe it’s independence or maybe it’s me trying to be smart, I don’t know anything other than I’m trying to limit the use of their card or my own for that matter.
My instructions were to get space and time between me and Haywood’s Landing. Change cars, pick a place to stay.
I thought answers would come quicker. They haven’t.
I can’t go to school so what is the next thing to do? Work.
Except I can’t have the Hellions find me which means no paper trail like a bank account or paycheck. Getting here, it all worked out.
I have a job. Luckily for me, it’s close. Therefore, when I can I walk. I like the sunshine and it isn’t far enough away to get sweaty even in the heat of the mid-day light.
Again, silly, I know, but if they want to track me, they can watch me walk. My car, I don’t know if it is bugged or has some device on it. Does it? Doesn’t it? Does any of it really matter anymore?
Am I in over my head? Absolutely.
There aren’t any amount of crime shows or documentaries to prepare me for how to save myself from myself. Afterall, my bad decision to even agree to this on day one is what landed me here.
I should have said no.
I could have said no … maybe, I don’t know. I play this over and over in my head. Did I make the right choice? Even when it’s over, I’m not sure I will actually have an accurate answer to this question.
I reacted. I didn’t think. I didn’t ask questions. My gut said follow the steps given.
I’ve been running on instinct ever since.
Arriving in Florida, it gave me the first bit of peace since leaving Haywood’s Landing. This place, in my regular life, I would have never agreed to shack up at.
It’s dangerous.
The doors can be broken into. No one will ask questions. No one will step in to help because it’s a mind your own business kind of place. It also is the perfect place for me to lay low until … well, until whatever comes next.
My gut said, calm down, ride it out here, until you can’t. I got a room at Oasis Inn, lucky number seven. Focused on settling in to make this stay last a little longer than my other places, I handled this differently. I paid for the room by the week. Feeling comfortable here, I decided to check out the surroundings.
One block away is a laundromat, Get the Funk Out. That’s where I first saw the sign.
NOW HIRING
I called the number on the sign.
He answered on the second ring. It was not kind. It was not inviting. It was a curt hello. I quickly learned; Stone Daniels isn’t one for idle chitchat I quickly learned. He isn’t one who is nice. Not that he is overly mean. Stone is Stone, I don’t think there is a way to define him. He is the president of the Sinister Sons MC. Something I didn’t know until I met him to get my first paycheck.