“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Thanks for your stay with us! Give me a call if you’re ever out this way again. I’m happy to give discounted rates to our regulars. Have a great day ma’am!”
I pressed the red button on my phone screen, sinking onto the bed beside my packed suitcase.
Isaac blocked the reservation.
Starting today.
Anger flushed up my neck. My ears began to ring. I tossed my phone onto the covers, pacing the bedroom rug.
That asshole. That absolute selfish prick.
He didn’t want to say goodbye?Fine.But this? This was a whole new level of asshole-ishness.
I clenched my teeth. Unclipped and re-clipped my hair with a claw clip.
I had half a mind to call the rental place back and demand his number. To become such a disgruntled customer that he couldn’t ignore me.
Why?
I paused at the edge of the rug, my toe sliding over the tassels.
This is what you wanted.
A strange calm washed over me. Numb. Flat.
Right. I had things to do.
I snatched a piece of paper from a drawer in the kitchen, scribbling out a quick note and leaving it on the counter.
That same empty feeling pressed on my chest as I loaded my suitcase into the trunk of my car. I barely felt the cool press of buttons as I opened the lockbox and stuck the key inside. I didn’t look over my shoulder as I walked down the porch steps for the last time.
Chapter 16
Road Rage
Tara
Lightreflectedoffthesurface of the bay, washing out the road as it curved along the water’s edge. Behind me, the town was a distant blur, steel roofs glinting faintly.
I exhaled, forcing my grip on the steering wheel to soften.
There was an untouched cup ofStop N’ Shopcoffee in the cup holder beside me. The stale scent of hazelnut and bitterness swirled in the heat circulating through the cab of the car.
My arms felt weak. My energy gone. The thought of lifting that cup to my lips was too much.
A nagging sensation pressed at the back of my mind—like I’d forgotten something. I went over a mental checklist.
Suitcase?Check.
Purse?Check.
Louis Vuitton shoes?Check.
Whatever I left behind wasn’t tangible.