Hunting Her

Chapter 20

I'd flown across America, catching the next flight I could. Only one person complained about the smell of smoke and I took it as a win.

I bought a room in a hotel down the road from the Dalton and spent the rest of the day scoping Hotel Dalton out. I managed to get into the hotel's system to look over their guest list, there was no mention of Dominic but I could only assume that was because even he wasn't stupid enough to check in with his real name.

When I felt prepared enough, I took a shower and tried to get to sleep. I twisted and turned, trying to rest, knowing I needed it. Giving up quickly, I opened my eyes and looked out across the room. It was dark but the blinds were too cheap to truly block out the moonlight.

I could make out my only luggage from across the room. Just a single bag. And peaking out of my bag was the phone Mila had given me months ago. Mila called every week and recently, I couldn't bring myself to pick up.

The last time I spoke to her, she and Oscar had been forced to go on the run again. Someone had found out where they were staying and they'd broken in with the intention of something horrific I'm sure. They'd found another place to stay as far as I knew, but I couldn't could bear listen to the exhaustion in her voice, the fear that was there. I knew her will to keep running was growing thin.

Oscar said hi from time to time but I knew he blamed me for their situation, as he should. There was an occasion, two months in, where Mila had gotten injured. Shrapnel had pierced her chest, inches from her heart. Oscar called to tell me what happened and I told him I'd come to them. He told me not to. He whispered that it was my fault, that her blood was on my hands if she died. And I couldn't get those words out of my head even if I tried.

He apologised the week after, once they knew Mila was in the clear. He said he was scared and angry but we both knew it was how he truly felt. And I couldn't blame him. 

And now with Mila's growing exhaustion, the tremble in her voice every time she spoke, I couldn't pick up. So I didn't.

I turned away from the phone and faced the wall. I begged this nightmare would end tomorrow, that I would finally have my chance to kill Dominic.

At some point, my eyes had closed as I found myself waking up to bird chirping outside my window. Day was barely breaking and I leapt from the best. It was 6am at best and I knew there was not a chance I was getting back to sleep.

Splashing water on my face from the sink, I opted to make use of the hotel gym. I tiptoed down the stairs to the basement of the hotel and eventually pushed open the door to the gym. The automatic lights flickered on as I entered, highlighting that it was completely empty. I tightened my ponytail started warming up.

I was about to jump onto the nearest treadmill when the door opened. I craned my neck to see who had walked in, only to find a man with a cap on. He glided past me, straight to the weight section. I watched him for a few moments before allowing myself to continue to the treadmill.

The machine grumbled as I turned up the speed. I then heard the man move and all of a sudden, he was turning on the treadmill next to mine. Despite the entire gym being empty.

I glanced at him and scowled. I couldn't make out his face, he remained looking away from me and the rest of his face was covered by his cap's shadow. But his outfit I could see just fine. And it was strange. The jumper was fine, the shorts were possibly slightly too small but fine, the shoes were interesting though. Suede business shoes from the look of them, not really my first choice to work out in.

Then, as though he noticed my staring at his shoes, he quickly moved elsewhere. Opting to cycle instead.

Interesting.

I ran for another 20 minutes, to see if he did anything. And nothing happened. He just cycled.

I eventually stopped the machine and walked over to the punching back that hung at the back of the room. I carefully leaned against the wall and began wrapping my hands, watching the man as I did. He was tall, taller than me and I was a respectable 5'10. I couldn't see his physique under his jumper but he did fill it out. And if he was at all trained, he might be a fun opponent, not that he seemed willing to give me a chance.

"Like what you see?" His voice was smooth, cutting through the air with precision as he addressed me without even looking in my direction.

I cracked my neck slightly as I stood. "Not at all." I wouldn't try to deny looking, seemed there was no point to it. I heard a faint laugh as I adjusted my shoulders and stabilised the bag before taking my first swing. The movement felt natural and everything else fell away as I pounded my fists against the bag.

"Your foot placement is wrong." His voice broke through my concentration, enough so that it forced me into dropping my fist mid swing.  I turned on my heels to face him and found him a lot closer than I had last seen him. He'd moved without my noticing.

I stared at the space between us. "Have you ever heard of personal space?"

He shrugged his shoulders and took a small step back.

"And wearing a hat indoors. You've seemingly never heard of manners either." I began to unwrap my hands, my work out having been spoilt. "And my stance—is perfect."

I could just about make out the man's smirk. He brought his hand up and took the hat off. He was attractive I wasn't going to deny that. "Happy?"

"Incredibly." I started to walk, moving past him to get to the exit when he stuck out a hand stopping me from doing so. "Problem?" I said getting increasingly impatient.

"Not at all."

I looked him up and down, a scowl evident on my face. "You're real strange, anyone ever tell you that?"

He seemed amused, the smirk still on his lips. "That's not the first adjective I usually hear."

"Oh, let me try again. Is complete twat any better?"

"Twat?" He repeated in his American accent. "English, huh."

"He's intelligent too." I said with a fake gasp. "You're a real keeper." I pushed past him then. Not wanting to waste any more time. I had a man to kill.