Triple Digits

Claire Miles

Claire didn't have anymore nightmares, still cocooned in Strickland's embrace and the warm sheets of his bed. If she could, she would have stayed there forever, refusing to face anything the weekend wanted to throw at her. At midday, however, Strickland rose from the bed, waking her by accident, slipping his arm out from underneath her waist, where it had shifted to during their slumber. He gathered the bathroom items, a towel, and a fresh change of clothes before leaving the room, letting her sleep.
She kept her eyes closed, trying to sink back into bliss, only for someone to knock on the door. Damn it.
Rising, she padded over to the door, unlocking it sleepily and peering out.
It was a room service attendant, a covered tray in his hands.
"Claire Miles?" He asked, making her nod warily. She hadn't ordered anything?
Slipping into the room, he placed the tray on the table, whipping the lid back to reveal a full breakfast platter and a folded note, explaining, "Courtesy of Charles Miles and Serena Serrano."
Her day had just gotten ten thousand times worse.
The attendant cleared her old cup of coffee away before he left, and Claire opened the curtains to the room, grimacing at the light that flooded in.
Her parents knew she was here in Redwood, and worse than that, they knew which motel and room she was staying in.
Shuddering at how quickly the news of her return had spread through the huge city, she pulled out a chair, dragging a plate over and filling it with two pieces of toast, covering them in slices of bacon and scrambled eggs, topping it with salt and pepper, and a swirl of barbeque sauce.
There was even a cup of freshly made, pure black coffee on the tray next to the note. They knew she took her coffee the same way Averie did.
Leaving the note alone, not wanting to hear anything from either of her parents so early in the day, especially considering it looked like an invitation somewhere, she ate her breakfast while waiting for Strickland to return.
When he did, she flicked the note at his feet, muttering around a mouthful of half-chewed food, "Can you read that for me?" He had redressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his feet bare and his hair wet from his shower. He smelt like soap.
"Forget your letters, Miles?" He teased, plucking it up and cracking it open, reading it aloud, "It is with pleasure that Charles Miles and Serena Serrano wish to cordially invite Claire Jane Miles, and one plus-one, to the Coppergate Restaurant Saturday night at eight o'clock." He looked to her, and she sighed heavily.
"They know you're staying in the room with me."
There were even two plates for the breakfast platter. Thank the Gods they hadn't put a triple-strength espresso with four sugars on the platter as the second drink, or she might have worried that they were stalking her.
His eyes widened, and he asked, "Is it that easy to track someone down?"
"With enough money, yes." He should know, he was a cop!
It was a small miracle Claire had managed to keep her current home hidden from them. They'd never found her after she ran, or perhaps never bothered to look.
Corey took a seat, grabbing a serving of breakfast for himself, foregoing the coffee, and there was another knock on the door.
"Oh, what now?" Claire hissed in annoyance. Everything was frustrating, today.
Stalking toward the door, she wrenched it open to find Averie standing there, the anger dying within her.
She had dyed her hair a deep black-blue and cut it short around her chin, adding bangs with bleached streaks through them. Her makeup was impeccable, and dark enough that her eyes looked like they vanished in empty voids of black eyeshadow and eyeliner.
Today, she was wearing a plaid mini skirt and a tight black croptop, showing off the death moth tattoo across the underside of her breasts, and an obsidian necklace hung from a choker around her neck. Dozens of bangles and wristbands ran up her wrists, and her fingers were covered in thick, bulky rings of skulls, snakes and Demons. Another tattoo ran up the entirety of her right arm, a detailed piece depicting a series of moths, centipedes and spiders. She glanced down at her ankle, knowing the tattoo of a flower was still there.
When Claire had turned eighteen, Averie had called her, and the two of them had gone to tattoo parlours on the same day and gotten the same tattoo on their right ankle- a tiny carnation. It was Claire's only tattoo. The pain of getting it had been enough to throw her off getting another one even now. She might consider it in the future, once the memory faded a little.
"Claire!" She threw her arms tightly around Claire's throat, hugging her, and Corey rose from his chair, catching her sister's attention.
"You must be Corey! Thank you so much for coming with my sister!"
Averie breezed into the room without waiting to be invited in, Claire closing the door, while Corey shook the hand of her older half-sister.
She knew her sister had taken notice of the bed they'd slept in, the sheets still unmade, and glanced over to the other bed. Claire had made the mistake of making the bed before getting up at five, which made it look like Strickland and her had shared together for the night, rather than just a couple hours.
Her sister's mouth dropped open in a little 'o' of realisation, before she shook the look off her face, crying out, "I am so pleased to have the two of you here!"
"Likewise, Aves, but how did you find me?" Claire really needed to start using a fake name.
Another one, anyway. She couldn't exactly book in under the name Triple Digit, could she?
Corey would have loved her if she did. It would have saved him three months of hunting the woman down to no avail.
"Bitch-Face posted something about you being back in town for the funeral, and one of her idiot friends works here as a receptionist, and said she helped you book in. She commented your room number."
Talk about a privacy violation... Strickland was thinking the same, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. He eyed his keycard, scooping it up and storming for the door, only for Claire to step into his path.
"Woah, where are you going looking like that?"
Averie watched the two of them curiously, and Corey bit out, "What do you mean?"
"Like you're going to rip the head off Bitch-Face's friend," Averie suggested helpfully from the side. A muscle in Corey's jaw feathered.
"You want to go yell at her," Claire murmured, flattered that Strickland would care enough to put in a complaint to ensure her privacy.
He nodded briskly.
"I'm touched, Corey, but let it go. Yelling will only make it worse."
Averie snorted in agreement, and Strickland snapped, "I can't just sit by while they dox you, Claire! What if someone bad comes looking for you?" His eyes glittered angrily at the thought. She'd never seen him so worked up before.
"I'm fine. You're here with me," she reassured softly, laying her hand on his arm. He glanced down to it, softening, some of the anger melting away.
Behind him, Averie was helping herself to the leftovers from breakfast.
When Corey was calm again, he offered the final seat at the dining table to Claire, taking up a position beside her, and the three of them continued to chat.
Averie, it was revealed, was here to make sure Brittani was telling the truth, and that Claire really was in Redwood. Her sister had received the same invitation to dinner tonight, which was unusual, given the fact that they refused to have anything to do with Aves.
Unless they knew Claire wouldn't show up without her big sister in attendance.
After breakfast, Averie successfully convinced Claire to go out into the city with her, dragging Corey along under the excuse of 'showing the country boy the big city!'.
They hit up several of the shopping centres, Averie buying a new, scandalous outfit for the dinner tonight, while Claire stuck to smaller items, including a new silver ring with a lime-coloured gem in its centre.
Corey admired it while the three of them sat down on a bench to eat lunch, which was a packet of sushi rolls, remarking, "You sure do like the colour green."
Was this it? Would this be when Strickland finally put two-and-two together, and realised that Claire was Triple Digits?
At this point, it would be a mercy to be dragged out of Redwood in handcuffs, although ten years in jail didn't sound very appealing.
She swallowed thickly, mumbling, "It's my favourite colour."
Averie's lips tugged up in a knowing smile. Her sister knew she was Triple Digits, and that Corey was entirely unaware.
Her broken wrist and hand was beginning to ache again from resting shopping bags higher up her arm, and with a wince, Claire adjusted the edge of the brace. Strickland watched her do it with guilt plastered plain and clear on his face, while Averie shook her head, mumbling, "I can't believe you flipped your car..."
By the time Averie dropped them back off at the motel, having spent the day shopping and exploring, as well as two hours in an arcade where Claire decimated Corey at a racing game, it was nearing six at night, and she was dizzy with pain.
Swallowing down two painkillers that the doctors at the Mid-City hospital prescribed for her, she dropped her shopping bags onto the ground, Corey remarking, "You go shopping a lot."
"I have a lot of money to waste," she admitted with a shrug, twisting the ring on her finger. It would be easier to hide her nervousness if she fiddled with a ring tonight, rather than hugged herself.
In two hours, she would be seeing her family again.
Deep in her stomach, the two painkillers, along with her lunch, threatened to come back up.
She needed to shower, clear her head, and then dress for the dinner.
Corey was thinking the same, because they both reached for a towel at the same time, their hands colliding, and with a dip of his head, Strickland motioned for her to go first.
She snatched up the towel, grabbing the bag that kept her dress safe, and left the room, heading down the hall to the shared bathroom.
Nobody else was in there, the shower stalls all silent.
The room was divided up into two separate 'rooms' that were split by an archway. On the right side were the toilet cubicles, while on the left, it was the showers.
Side-by-side, the showers were separated by walls and doors that were able to be locked.
Claire chose one in the middle, placing her clothes and towel in the locker on the inside of the shower, taking a moment to wrap her cast in clingwrap to protect it before stripping out of her clothes as quickly as possible and twisting the tap, hot water blasting out, a cloud of steam rising.
It wasn't until she'd stepped into the water, feeling it sink deep into aching muscles and her spinning head, that Claire realised she'd left behind the shampoo, conditioner and soap.
Seeing as it was too late to go get them, she would have to do without.
Gods, her head was spinning. The room blurred for a moment, and Claire caught herself against the tiled wall before she could fall, instead sinking to her knees. She needed to close her eyes for a second, to get her bearings again.
The concussion was still in full force. Flying on a plane last night, and playing in an arcade today, had certainly not helped.
Closing her eyes, Claire massaged at her scalp to try and ease the growing pain, groaning.
She just wanted to go home to Mid-City...