The Survivors

Chapter Three: Other, pt. 1

3

OTHER

At the pace I was driving, I would make it back to Nashville in less than three hours. The roads were nearly empty, so I sped across them, cutting through the night air at speeds unsafe for the average driver.

  I felt freer on the road, and being away from Cole made it easier to focus. He had an uncanny ability to cloud my judgment and my senses-a dangerous combination. I needed my nonhuman side to be in control at all times so I wouldn't slip up and expose myself, or, worse, hurt someone.

  The streets of Nashville were not as quiet as the roads in Tupelo had been. It was, after all, Saturday night. I pulled off West End Avenue into the Hutton Hotel a little after one in the morning. Ever since Corrina had left Nashville the year before, I had been trying new places to stay when I returned to Nashville from each of my trips. When I had returned from South America earlier in the year, I had found the new Hutton open, and its east-facing penthouse had become my new home base. As I drove up, Sean, the overnight valet, greeted me.

            "Welcome back, Ms. Matthau," he said. I had noticed that all the employees knew my name. I appreciated them for that. It made me feel like I was coming back to a home instead of a hotel.

            "Hi, Sean. I've got luggage. I just got back from a trip," I said, popping the trunk.

            "I'll bring them up," he said, flashing me a smile. He was flirting, of course, but in a polite, socially acceptable way. I knew the real reason he'd see to bringing the bags up himself was for the tip I would give him. I kept a stash of twenties and fifties inside the side table in the foyer of my suite. I arbitrarily chose which to give when. It made everyone here like me a little more.

            In the lobby, I was again greeted by name by every member of the graveyard shift skeleton crew. I liked the Hutton's main lobby. It looked less like a hotel lobby and more like an upscale living room. It added to the charade that this was my home.

            "Welcome back, Ms. Matthau. Anything you need brought up to you?" Veronica, a small, round woman with thick black-rimmed glasses asked as I made my way toward the elevators.

            "Pillows?" I said, imagining barricading myself into the bed on all sides. I longed to be able to sleep.

            "How many?" she asked, scurrying behind me to match my long stride.

            "Lots," I said, smiling as I reached out and pressed the elevator button.

            "Certainly, Ms. Matthau," Veronica said as she backed away.

            The hallway on the top floor was silent. I trod lightly, sensing that others were sleeping. I was relieved when I opened the door to my large suite and felt cold air rush over me. The housekeeping staff had left the air on as low as it would go, no doubt something they noticed I did. It was a small comfort they provided, and I was grateful for it. Some members of the staff were intrigued by me, but others felt a certain amount of pity toward me. They all wondered why I was alone, and why someone so young seemed to have no family or even friends. This wasn't an uncommon thing for people to wonder about me.