Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

7

Charlotte

Two double-beds took up half the motel room, with a dresser and a boxy old television across from them. On the far end of the room was a bathroom, a kitchenette with a microwave, mini fridge, and a hotplate. At a glance, I didn’t see any stains or insects. It even smelled clean.

I locked the deadbolt, then took a shower. The bathroom was tidy and there was plenty of hot water, which improved my mood from God-awful to merely terrible. Once I had the smell of jail off my skin and had changed into fresh clothes, I felt like a new woman.

Without listening to any of the voicemails, I called Momma.

She was relieved to hear my voice until I told her what had happened. She listened quietly as I explained everything that had happened last night and today.

“Eastland?” she said. I heard her speaking to my dad, then her voice returned to the phone. “Your father’s going to call in some favors. He has a lot of old sheriff buddies working down between Macon and Savannah. We’ll get this all sorted out soon.”

I closed my eyes. “Thank you. I knew Dad would be able to help.”

“Do you want me to come pick you up?” Momma asked.

I sighed. “As much as I want to say yes, is there any point? I have three weeks of community service, and my license was revoked. I’m scheduled to begin my hours tomorrow morning. So unless you want to pick me up today, and then drive me three hours back in the morning…”

“I’ll do it if you want me to,” Momma said. “There’s nothing like staying in your own bed to soothe the soul.”

I smiled to myself. “Thanks, Momma, but I’ll be all right tonight.”

“Hopefully just tonight,” she said, anger trickling into her tone. “Handle your community service tomorrow as if nothing’s wrong. By tomorrow night your father should have fixed this. Love you, sweet pea.”

As soon as I hung up, I quickly plugged my phone charger into the wall before my phone could die. Then I rested my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. Having a dad who was the sheriff of a small town had been a pain growing up because it meant I couldn’t get away with anything without word getting to him. But if he got me out of this mess, it would make up for all the missed curfews in the world.

I rolled over and looked at my suitcase on the other bed. I’d thrown everything into suitcases without bothering to fold them because I was in a hurry to get away from Scott. Since I didn’t have anything better to do, I retrieved the other two suitcases from the car and arranged all my clothes on the second bed. I sorted them by type, then folded everything nice and neat back into the suitcases. An orderly closet made for an orderly life, Momma always said.

Here in a run-down motel in a run-down town, the simple chore was calming.

By the time I was done, I was starving. The last thing I’d eaten was buttered bread at the beginning of last night’s dinner. I guess the stress of everything had made me forget all about eating.

I went back to the motel lobby. “How far is it into town?”

The kid behind the desk looked up from his phone. “Uh. I dunno. A while thataways?” He pointed in a vague direction that wasn’t helpful.

“Do you guys have Uber or Lyft here?”

He laughed as if that were a joke.

I was too hungry to walk all the way to the diner; besides, it was awfully humid outside from last night’s storm, and I didn’t want to get all sweaty after just showering. “Is this food fresh?” I asked, pointing to a mini-fridge full of food.

“I dunno. Check the labels.”

I picked out a microwavable burrito, some canned fruit, a Diet Coke, and a big bag of chips from the rack underneath. I stared at the cooler a few seconds longer and grabbed a six-pack of beer.

“Having a party?” the kid asked with a snicker. “Or a pity party?”

I smiled sweetly at him. “What’s your name?”

“Billy.”

“Well, Billy,” I said as I handed him my Visa. “Go fetch the machine from the closet, because I’m paying with credit.”

I savored his groan as he obeyed.

I carried my bounty of junk food outside. A deep rumbling vibrated through the ground, announcing the arrival of a gang of motorcycles before I saw them. They came around the bend in the road, riding two-by-two. They looked like the same guys I’d seen at the police station last night, though there were closer to twenty of them instead of just six. The logo on their leather jackets was a snake coiled around a skull, with the word COPPERHEAD in bronze letters above.

Something about the bikes was unnerving. I shivered even though it was a warm, humid afternoon. The sooner I was out of this little town, the better.

Back in my room, I microwaved the burrito and then bit into it before waiting for it to cool. Hunger truly was the best spice, because it tasted better than any frozen burrito I’d had in my life. While eating, I sat in bed and scrolled through the map on my phone. Eastland was indeed a one-road town, just off the interstate and surrounded by little square plots of farmland. The aerial view in Google Maps looked like a chess board whose squares were floating away in every direction.

I zoomed back in on Eastland. The community center where I had to be in the morning was only about half a mile from my motel. Close enough to walk. The diner was even closer. I could’ve gone there for dinner.

“Don’t worry,” I told my burrito. “You’re doing a good job all by yourself.”

I washed it down with my Diet Coke while deleting Momma’s frantic emails. She’d left fourteen of them, which I swiped away without listening. I felt guilty enough that she and Dad had been worried sick for most of a day before I had a chance to call them.

I was almost through all the voicemails when I saw one from a different contact.

Scott.

My thumb hit the play button before I could stop myself. As I held the phone up to my ear, I prayed there was an excuse for the text I’d seen on his phone. That this was all some funny misunderstanding we’d be laughing about years from now.

“Hey,” came Scott’s monotone voice. “It’s, uh, me.” He cleared his throat. “Listen. Charlotte. I didn’t want you to find out that way. I should’ve told you about Tammy. We’ve been seeing each other for—”

I tossed my phone to the other bed as if it were a poisonous snake. I didn’t have the emotional energy to listen to it right now. The simple confirmation that there was another woman was enough to crush me.

It felt like my rib cage was being squeezed. Leaning back against the headboard, I sucked in a breath and let it exhale through my clenched teeth. I wasn’t going to cry. I was too exhausted to cry. I’d already cried before getting confirmation.

Somehow, I think I had known for a while already. Like deep down, part of my brain realized our relationship was unrepairable, but I had refused to acknowledge it. I’d been avoiding the truth all this time, hoping we could get back together.

Nope, I thought sadly. It’s all over now.

“I need something stronger than you,” I told my Diet Coke, swapping it out for a beer from the fridge. The cap twisted off with a hiss, and I flicked it into the trash can. I drank from the bottle until the tightness in my rib cage loosened just a bit. Enough that I felt like I could breathe.

“To Scott,” I said, toasting the air. “The cause of all my problems.”

But my problems were just beginning.