Page 8 of One Second After Another

Except ...

Penny laughed as she stepped out of the vehicle, calling back into the man, “I’m not the one you’ll have to worry about seeing the threat through, though. Keep it in mind.”

There were always worst monsters waiting in the wings. Penny was only one of them.

She closed the door. The last thing she saw from the man was red taillights as he pulled out of the alleyway. That was fine with her.

One thing done.

She was one second closer to ending it all ...

• • •

THE MOTEL ROOM PENNY rented in the Bronx wasn’t much to look at. Peeling wallpaper with a faded flower design gave the single room—and attached bathroom—some color, at least. The brown, shag carpet had been laid at least three decades before she even existed. God only knew the things these walls had heard and seen.

That was about all she could say for the motel.

Then again, the place was booked by the hour. She was probably one of the only patrons in the place who paid for several days upfront which should have said enough. Nonetheless, she avoided focusing on the stains on the carpet never mind pulling the sheets off the bed. The old furniture had seen better days but the single table, chair, twin bed, and three-drawer dresser all served their purpose.

She’d stayed in worse.

Hell, she’d been raped in worse.

At least, she was out of the rain, had a place to sleep, and there was a decent diner down the street when her hunger became enough of an annoyance that she had no choice but to deal with it. The motel hadn’t required identification to book the room when she slapped down an extra thousand dollars to cover any damages.

Shit.

They could keep the money.

Maybe spruce up the room.

Penny wouldn’t come looking for it, anyway. And if she could help it, then she wouldn’t bring any problems to the motel, either. After all, the entire point of her getting a room was to use it to stay out of sight. No paper trail. She left nothing behind for someone to use to find her.

Since she didn’t have anything else to do, Penny had at least taken the time to open the duffle bag from Carson to look through the items inside properly. Her wigs were now hanging from wire hangers on the shower’s metal bar to keep them in decent shape should she need to use one. All the makeup that she might need to change her appearance had been set out on the table alongside three pairs of folded black jeans and matching tank tops. Not that the weapons needed to be cleaned, but she took her time with the gun, silencer, and even the knife just because she could.

What was time?

She had too much of it.

For now.

Keeping busy, even if it was only arranging her things and attempting to settle into the motel room for however long her stay would be, was something she could do. Actions she could control. A way to keep her mind from traveling elsewhere.

To keep her heart from hurting.

It always hurt, though.

Always.

Was it all a bit much? Not really. It was, however, exactly what Penny needed. The League had done more than teach Penny how to kill while giving her the chance to change history ... even if it had taken her entirely too long to figure out the past never went away. They had also given her the ability to take care of herself.

In every way.

Mentally.

Physically.

In business.