The Wedding Contract

Chapter 22





By the time I get back to my room, they’ve got the doorknob fixed. Again. The evil redhead from reception is there along with a maintenance man.

She sneers at me. “It’s unusual to have the same door act up twice in one day.”

“Yeah, well, what can I tell you? I have bad luck. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go to bed. I just fell out a window and don’t really feel like talking.” I go to push past her, but Red blocks me. I imagine her evil horns growing out of her scalp as she slaps her hands on her hips.

“There are cameras everywhere. If we find out that you tampered with this piece of hotel equipment—”

“The doorknob.”

“Yes, then we will fine you and charge you for all related damages and expenses. Do you understand?” She says the last three words as if I hit my head, but I didn’t.

I get into her face. “If you had footage, you would have used it by now, so don’t go getting all up in my face without any proof. You should be worried that I could sue the hotel for crappy doors and shitty windows. Don’t tempt me.” I shove past her and slam the door in her stunned face. Her mouth forms that little O that people make when they’re shocked. Since the tampering was done in a discrete way, they didn’t see me. I guess they didn’t catch Nick either. Rat bastard.

Look at that. He’s gone up a level from plain bastard to rat bastard. I throw my busted camera on the floor and flop down on the bed, draping my arm over my eyes. My hair covers his pillows and linens. I didn’t bother to pick out the twigs and dirt before I lay down. I wiggle on his white sheets making them a ghastly shade of brown in certain spots, before rolling off onto my pallet on the floor.

I can’t stop thinking and I’m scared to death that I’m going to lose everything. The guy is using me and I’m attracted to him. Great combo. Wonderful. Deegan doesn’t come by to see if I’m all right. No one does. I’m the crazy shower curtain girl who fell out a window. They avoid me like the plague. It’s clear that I don’t fit in here, but I never fit in anywhere.

It’s well past two in the morning when Nick tumbles into our dark room. A giggling voice is there with him. I hear her purr, “Come on, Nick. Just for the night, no strings.”

“Sorry, baby, but I can’t. Roommate.” He sounds remorseful. Good. I hope he chokes to death and dies.

“So, throw him out. I promise to make it worth your while.” I hear silence, then giggling, and then more ragged breaths. I hate her. I hate him. I hate everyone. Grabbing my pillow, I pull it down over my head so I don’t have to listen, but it doesn’t help.


Nick moans and I despise the fact that I love that sound. Deep in my belly something twists and I wish I were the one making him react that way. I tug the pillow tighter and chase away the thought. He’s not forgiven and never will be. He kept me from Deegan, broke my camera, and pretty much tossed me out a window.

After more kissing noises, Nick backs into the room and closes the door. Slut on heels click-clacks down the hall and, despite the carpet, I can hear her leave. Before looking at the bed, Nick sits down on the edge and grabs his hair in his hands.

He remains hunched over like that for too long. Something’s wrong. I watch his back expand with every breath, but the man doesn’t look up. He remains like that, rubbing his temples. When he speaks, his voice is barely audible.

It’s not meant for me, he’s saying it to himself. “I can’t do this.”