Page 32 of The Atonement (Arrangement #3)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
PETER
I approached the front desk of the hotel, worriedly scratching my head and patting my pockets a bit overzealously. The young man behind the counter watched me with an apathetic stare, pushing the bridge of his glasses up farther on his nose.
“Can I help you?”
“Actually, yes. This is so embarrassing, but I’ve lost my room key somewhere, and I left my phone in the room. Could I get a spare?”
“Sure.” He looked relieved I wasn’t asking him to do something difficult as he typed something into the computer in front of him and asked, “What’s your room number?”
“It’s 408.”
He typed it in before eyeing my bandaged wrist suspiciously. I dropped my arm to my side. “Name?”
“Greenburg. It’s probably under my wife’s name, Ainsley. ”
He nodded slowly, his eyes skimming the screen. “Do you have some ID?”
I produced my wallet in a flash, a carefree smile on my lips. “Of course. Thank you for asking.”
“No problem.” He half glanced at the ID and spun around, using one of the keys on his wrist to unlock a cabinet. Seconds later, he was handing me a new room key.
“Thanks. Uh, is there any charge?”
“Nah,” he said, rubbing a finger across the pimple on his chin. “You’re good.”
“Thanks, man.” I turned away from him and headed for the elevators, my body trembling with adrenaline.
I was so close.
So close.
The excitement was almost too much.
When I reached her room, I stood still for a moment, listening to be sure she was indeed gone. To make sure he’d taken her away like we’d planned. After a few moments, I pressed the key to the door and watched the light flash green. I turned the handle, waiting again as the seconds passed.
One…
Two…
On three, I pushed the door open and rushed inside, shutting it behind me and pressing my back to the door.
“Hello?” I called.
No answer.
I moved farther into the room, spying her open suitcase on the end of the bed. I picked up a T-shirt, lifting it to my nose and drawing in a breath. I sorted through the bag, filled only with her wrinkled clothing and toiletries.
I looked around, bending down to check the floor and underneath the bed. Where were the children’s bags?
I checked the bathroom, searching for any sign of their things—toothbrushes, clothes, anything, but there was nothing.
Next, I checked the mini-fridge.
No soda.
No bags of chips on the desk.
The small silver trash can only contained a few used tea bags and the unopened bag of chocolate-covered peanuts I’d bought her.
Next to the bed, there were two plastic bags of snacks, a romance book Maisy would’ve never read, and two coloring books.
Were these for the kids? I hadn’t seen them color in years…
It was obvious what was going on.
They were either staying in another room or they weren’t staying there at all.
Where did they go, Ainsley?
I moved back into the bathroom, looking around. In the trash can, there was a green box. What the…
I picked it up cautiously.
No.
Hair dye?
She couldn’t be serious. She wouldn’t have ever actually dyed her hair. This had to be for something else. Ainsley’s red hair was…part of her. It was special. Beautiful. It was one of my favorite things about her. How could she even consider changing it ?
I felt as if I might be sick as I threw the box back into the trash with disgust.
How dare she?
How dare she?
I stalked from the bathroom. Next to the door, there was an armoire. I made my way toward it and pulled it open. Inside, there were hangers, plastic bags for dry cleaning, and an ironing board. I stepped inside of the space, trying to determine if there was enough room for me to hide.
I shuffled things around, shoving the ironing board to the opposite end and pushing the hangers over with it. Doing that gave me just enough room to shut the door and bathe myself in total darkness.
I pulled out my phone and checked the time.
Now, we wait…
Nearly an hour passed before I heard the first sign of their return. Her voice carried from down the hall in the form of a laugh. She sounded happy. Carefree.
Wasn’t that just the story of my life?
She was happy, and I was hidden in a closet trying to fix our marriage.
I heard the lock disengage and the door open, and I held my breath, incredibly aware of how close she was.
“Thank you for doing this…for convincing me,” she said. I grimaced. Oh, shut up.
“I had a really nice time,” he said. I pressed my eye to the crack in the door, trying to see whether he’d come inside with her.
From there, I could just make out the muddy brown of her hair.
Rage bubbled in my belly. This little tantrum had gone too far.
How stupid was she going to feel once things had blown over and she still had to live with that color for months?
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I’d like to do it again, if you’re up for it. When you’re done escaping, I mean.”
Escaping? Where the fuck did she think she was going?
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I’d like that.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep myself from lunging out of the armoire right then. Who did she think she was?
“Okay, cool.”
Cool? Calm the fuck down, tough guy.
“Um…do you want to come inside?”
What the… No. No, he doesn’t want to come inside. No, he doesn’t want to—
“Uh, I’d better not.”
“Oh, right, I—”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “Believe me, I want to.”
We believe you, all right. Don’t even think about it.
“I just want to be respectful.”
Respectful? Who was this guy? The fucking Pope?
“I know you’re in a weird place, and I don’t want to rush things. But I’d like to see you again. I have an early shift tomorrow. Maybe I could come by after. ”
She rebounded quickly, unfazed. “Sure.”
“Awesome. I, uh… Well, all that waiting for the first date talk, I’m not sure I have the willpower for that.”
She giggled, the sound interrupted by a worse noise. I slapped a hand to my mouth as I heard the sloppy, disgusting soundtrack of their kiss.
He was kissing her. The fucker was actually kissing her.
“I would’ve kicked myself if I didn’t at least do that.”
I’ll be happy to do the kicking for you.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Matt.”
“I’ll see you then. Good night, Ainsley.”
The hell you will.
After another brief pause, the door shut and I heard her back slide against it, releasing a lovesick sigh that sent ice to my core.
What did she have to be so happy about? Peering through the crack, I watched her slide her shoes off and run a hand through her ridiculous hair.
With a smile like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked out by the prom king, she shook her head and moved forward, past my hiding place.
I pulled the syringe out of my pocket, holding it at the ready, and shoved the door open before she’d had time to process the sound.
“Peter?” she cried as I lunged forward, blinded by my rage. I jabbed the needle into her neck just as she’d done to me so many times in the past.
I jerked my arm back. “Sorry to ruin your evening.”
Her hand went to her neck, then she pulled it away as if looking for blood. She stepped back, searching for the phone in her hand, already dazed and disoriented.
“What did you do?” she cried, slurring her words. I plucked the phone from her grasp, but she didn’t seem to notice, still searching.
“It works fast, doesn’t it?” I asked, clicking my tongue. “It’ll be lights out soon, don’t worry.”
She jerked forward with determination, grabbing the landline phone from the nightstand, but I tore it from her grasp with ease, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Just give in to it, Ains. It’s easier that way.”
“Fuck…you…” she whispered, trying to push herself up from the floor, though she was sinking faster than she seemed to realize.
I cracked my knuckles, the corners of my mouth playing into a grimace. “Maybe another time. I’m pretty tired. Although, lover boy seemed pretty happy to try. Too bad you’re going to have to cancel your plans tomorrow night.”
She wasn’t listening, too busy trying to stand up, and then, without warning, she opened her mouth and screamed with everything she had left in her. I clapped a hand over her lips in an instant, ending the noise.
A second later, she went limp in my arms.
There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Let’s get you home.