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Connie used to her mother’s mercurial manner, and taciturn moods wasn’t too put out by the harsh response. She should turn around and go back to her room to avoid anything more, but the growling of her stomach reminded her of why she’d come to find her mom in the first place. “When are we having dinner?”
The anger that rose up inside of Misty was unwarranted, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She picked up the first thing she could reach and flung it across the room at the girl’s head with a loud scream. “Get out. I don’t care if you starve.” The quick burst of anger was gone almost as soon as it came, and she felt a slight pang of guilt at the quivering of her daughter’s lips.
“I’m sorry, sorry, Connie.” She moved to put her arms around the child who slinked back out of the way of harm, a move that only pissed her mother off further. “Go find something in the fridge, and don’t annoy me. You’re old enough to take care of yourself.” Something that was true, but there were times she’d been yelled at for being in the kitchen. Misty didn’t like anyone else playing the homemaker role in her house, especially not with her man around.
Connie went to the kitchen, leaving her mother alone with her thoughts and wondering about the next day as she fixed herself a sandwich. It was already dark outside, and she worried about what the new day would bring, and if her mother would make her go to school. She’d fretted over that question all day, not looking forward to the questions she was sure to face from her friends.
She’d only started becoming popular here in the last year, or so once everyone found out that her mom had married the hot new coach. Kids who had always overlooked her before were now, if not exactly close, weren’t bullying her as much as they used to. She’d gone from being a nonentity to someone with just a little bit of power among her peers.
What would Ryan’s arrest do to her standing now? Will things go back to the way they used to be? She hadn’t thought of that, and now as she washed down the turkey and cheese sandwich with sprite, her stomach rolled from something more than hunger. She felt almost weak at the idea of what she’d faced once she returned to the hallways of the school, where she’d endured so many ups and downs.
By the time she went to bed a couple of hours later, she was a bundle of nerves. She hadn’t seen or heard her mom since the other woman shut herself away in her room a little while ago, and it had been some time since she heard the pacing coming from her room. Fatigue finally set in, and she tossed and turned as her worries followed her even into sleep.
Bridgette had just returned to her room after her shift feeling despondent. She’d looked for the guy from the night before to make a return since he was staying here, and when there was no sign of him, she’d asked one of her coworkers, making the inquiry seem as harmless as possible.
When she learned that he was an out of town cop, the sudden fear had almost made her knees buckle. All-day, she’d comforted herself with the thought that he’d taken the glass of whiskey and coke up to his room to finish it, something their guests are allowed to do.
When she found his door locked and barred the night before, she hadn’t thought much of it; she imagined most people did the same when traveling out of town. She’d not been too disappointed, there were plenty of men to choose from to suit her purpose right here in town, and now with her job at the only inn in town, she was sure to find someone to get the job done. If only Niall Davis hadn’t slipped through her fingers.
There was no point in thinking about that now. Her time was almost up, and if she didn’t find a suitable candidate soon, she’d find herself heading back to the life of dreary repetition she’d done so much to escape from. A hot shower helped to refresh her, and she gave some thought to going out tonight but came up short at the guest in her room when she walked out of the bathroom.
“What are you doing here? It’s not time yet. How did you…?” That was all she got out before she watched in horror as a hand was raised, and the knife came swiftly down and landed in her neck before being pulled ruthlessly out again. She dropped to the floor and stared with dying eyes as her murderer turned and left the room without uttering a sound. Her life flashed before her eyes as she gasped for air and tried to cry out, but no sound came.
