Seven Days (8 page)

“Have you ever been here before?” Ryan asked after a particularly loud clap of thunder. Luckily, our hotel loomed in the distance, looking forebodingly ominous from its hilltop position. It had a stately presence that reminded me of a giant, creepy mansion in most house based horror movies. The quickly darkening sky with crackling thunder and bright bursts of lightening only added to the spookiness of the atmosphere.

“No, and I’m excited, if not a little frightened,” I answered, truthfully. I wasn’t a wuss when it came to tales of horror and ghosts. There were plenty of real evils to be scared of that the glorification of the fake stuff felt a little silly. Yet, there was something about that building that sent a shiver down my spine. At least, I could bank on being able to stay awake that night, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to ignore any signs of haunted activity, should we actually encounter them. “I’ve heard all the legends, though.”

“Look at that place,” he remarked, as we started up the hill to the hotel. “It looks like it’s frozen in time. This was an awesome idea,” he grinned at me like an excited little boy ready for a new adventure. The storm broke as we exited the truck. Large droplets of warm rain fell on us as we raced for the lobby.

Looking back at the valley, I couldn’t hide the grin taking over my face. Dark clouds were casting shadows on the town below, making the view even more breathtaking than before. I must’ve gotten enraptured for more than just a moment, because the next thing I knew I was being yanked through the door and my previously sun dried clothing was dripping on the historically restored and retro-carpeted floors, leaving a puddle.

The musty rain from outside mixed with the iron rich smell of blood, reminding me of the hotel’s previous life as the town’s hospital. I’d heard stories about the hotel’s distinctive smell, but I always doubted that it was possible for the place to carry the scent of blood for that long. I mean, my trailer didn’t smell like blood anymore and it hadn’t even been a decade since my mother died there. Now, however, I knew it wasn’t just possible, it was true. This development added another bullet point to the things about the place that are creepy list. What kind of hotel smelled like blood?

The concrete yellow building was even more spectacular on the inside. I took the time to look at all of the details of the lobby, the pink walls, dark wood accents and the vintage switchboard, as Ryan checked us into the room he’d reserved before we pulled out of Oak Creek Canyon an hour ago. This was going to be a brand new experience for me. Hotels weren’t somewhere I was used to being. In fact, this was the first time I was going to have the privilege of being a guest in one. So to say that I was more uneasy about that than the phantoms was an understatement. The amused look on Ryan’s face as he walked back to me told me that I wasn’t hiding my apprehensive fascination well at all.

“So, Ms. Patrick,” he started, threading his fingers with mine and leading me toward the most incredible elevator I’d ever seen. I’d read that it was one of the only remaining original user operated elevators in the United States. It looked narrow and a little bit eerie. I wondered if it might be possible to step into it and come out on the set of a black and white movie where we’d be surrounded by people in zoot suits and flapper dresses. The whole 1920’s restoration thing started to mess with my head, because I knew we were in a former mining town and in a converted hospital. No mobsters, no speakeasy, no flappers, just former patients and supposedly murdered handy men. Looking up at Ryan, the expectation on his face as he eyed at me told me that he’d been speaking the entire time we were waiting for the elevator to arrive. I hadn’t heard a single word he’d said, because when I disappeared into my head, I was surprisingly efficient at blocking everything else out. I’d had years of practice, after all.

“What?” I asked, giving my head a shake to clear my thoughts. “Sorry, the elevator distracted me.”

“It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?” he chuckled as the doors slid open and an older couple walked out, holding the doors for us.

“Yeah,” I smiled, nodding a quick thanks to the couple as they continued on their way. “I guess this kind of elevator is what I imagine older buildings in Paris or some other exotic place would have, you know? Books set in Europe always talk about these old, slow elevators in historic buildings,” I blushed at my words and the way they revealed the fact that I wasn’t well travelled.

“I can see that,” he agreed, leaning against the back wall as the elevator crawled toward the third floor. “I haven’t made my way out of the US yet, so I guess it’s something we should put on a destination wish list for other trips we could make,” he winked at me like he was planning to take several of these vacations with me in the future. Or he was just being polite in the wake of my stupid observation.

An odd feeling passed over me as the door opened again, and I found myself hesitating to leave the perceived safety elevator. For some reason, the air felt heavier here, even though that feeling was completely ridiculous. Tugging me out the door, I followed behind Ryan, our hands still entwined, as he searched for our room number.

The hallway boasted still-life pictures with gilded frames, along with period-style furniture with tufted backs and polished wood trim. The whole place looked like a high end antiques showroom. I didn’t know how much Ryan had spent for the night, but it had to be outside of my price range. Stopping outside of our room, I started to get nervous again, wondering if I was being silly about the goose bumps forming at the thought of sleeping in a haunted hotel. Surely, it was all a big tourist thing, right? And besides, I wasn’t planning on actually sleeping, was I?

Pushing open the door, Ryan and I both stood in the threshold, rooted to the spot as my eyes fell on a single queen sized bed. Queen sized bed, only one of them, fuck. Beyond the bed, I saw the door to what looked like a balcony. Finally taking a step into the room, I walked to the opposite side and opened what was, in fact, a balcony door, letting the sounds of the rain fill the room. I loved the smell of monsoon storms. The hint of disturbed desert dust and humidity that permeated the air settled my concerns before they could consume me.

“You have another five minutes to enjoy the storm before we head back down,” Ryan announced from beside me. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed again tonight. I wanted a balcony room and they only come in one size.”

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, having not actually looked anywhere in the room aside from the bed and the balcony, but it was enough. The storm had stolen most of the sunset from me, but I knew the sunrise from this spot had to be absolutely memorizing. Even the small tufts of dying light peeking through the clouds overhead made my heart beat just a little faster.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, standing beside me in the doorway. “I don’t think I ever noticed something as simple as a rainstorm until right now,” he continued, softly. “I know that might sound cheesy or lame, but seeing how big your eyes are as you take it all in, seeing the childlike wonder on your face, it makes every single one of these moments worth the journey. Thank you so much for taking this trip with me.”

Heat bloomed across my cheeks as I kept my gaze fixed on the valley in front of me. Lightening extended from the clouds overhead to connect with the ground miles away and the rumble of thunder followed closely behind the flash. The heavy rain had stopped and a misty drizzle was all that remained, even though I could see darker clouds moving in behind the ones that were passing overhead. “Shouldn’t that be the other way around?” I asked, my voice gravelly with emotion. “Shouldn’t I be the one grateful that you’d want to share this experience with me?”

“No,” he denied, and I could feel the heat of his body move closer to mine. All I had to do was turn my head, find his lips again and our ghost hunting would be forgotten. My pulse raced at the possibility, but my head told me not to take things any further than I already had. I couldn’t let myself get involved even though every cell in my body seemed to crave him. I wondered how he would feel moving inside me. Would he show me everything I’d been missing out on these last eight years? Or what he be just like the others, taking what he wanted from me and leaving me with nothing?

“So,” I swallowed my desire, still watching the larger storm move closer for fear that if I saw what was in his eyes right now, I might not have the strength to stop. “Shall we hunt some apparitions?” I finished, stepping back from the balcony and heading toward the door to the room. “We might have to battle the rain later for our bags,” I pointed out, waiting for him to join me.

Dropping his head down quickly in mock defeat, he looked up at me with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I knew that my continued evasiveness whenever we seemed to be heading toward an escalation of intimacy was starting to get to him. However, he walked back to where I stood and offered me his elbow before escorting us out of the room and back toward the lobby to meet the other guests on tonight’s tour.

As much as I was holding back, I knew my control was on edge and would snap very shortly. He was on the brink of getting what he wanted from me, because I wanted the same thing from him. I just hoped that he would be able to take what I was willing to give and not think we could ever last beyond this small window of time together. I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to walk away if he decided to ask me to be with him.

**

“So, what do you think?” Ryan asked when we got back to our room that evening. The tour had been better than I would’ve imagined, complete with ghost hunting equipment that we got to keep for the night to log any paranormal activity that may occur in our room. Afterward, we’d made a quick stop in the restaurant for take-out and the truck for our bags. I wasn’t feeling particularly social at the moment, though, as I tried to digest everything we’d just seen while I nibbled on the delicious sandwich I’d ordered.

“What do you mean?” I gave him a puzzled look as he moved to prop open the balcony door again. The humidity from the rain and a subpar air conditioner had combined to create a stifling atmosphere when we returned to the room. The ceiling fan had helped a little, but I had a feeling the rain fresh air would help with the rest. However, just to be sure, I’d changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a fresh tank top.

“Was he murdered or was it an accident?” he clarified, grabbing his own Styrofoam box of food and sitting across from me on the bed. “Suicide?”

“I wasn’t there. How would I know?” I shrugged, picking at my dinner. After the day we’d had, I was starving, but I was also exhausted. I knew that if I stuffed myself, haunted room or not, there was no way I could stay awake. “They said the check showed the elevator was working properly. I must say the permanent chalk outline of his decapitated body was a little disconcerting though,” I relayed, shooting him a look of mock disgusts as I theatrically shuddered.

“You have to admit, they do a good job making the place seem like it exists on a completely separate astral plane,” he half-shrugged as he dug into his food.

“True,” I agreed, staring out the balcony doors into the darkness. Lights dotted the city at the bottom of the hill and laughter filtered up from below, but otherwise, all was silent. The day started to catch up with me as we continued our meal and my muscles ached. Rolling my shoulders back, I tried to relieve the pain.

“Hey,” Ryan put his hand on my shoulder, closing up the nearly empty box in front of him and stacking it on top of mine. “Let me help you,” he offered, leaving my side for a moment to clear the bed of our food. “Lay down,” he told me, gesturing to the center of our bed.

“You don’t have to—” I put my palms out defensively.

“I know I don’t have to,” he cut off my protest. “But you have to be sore from all the hiking and climbing we did today.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure I’m not the only one,” I grumbled. “I’m sure you are hurting, too.”

“Yes, that’s true,” he smirked, helping me spread out on my stomach. “But, I see this as a trade off,” he said, leaving the bed and heading toward the bathroom. After a moment he returned with complementary lotion in hand. “It’s not lavender, but it’ll do,” he frowned when he saw me looking at the container. “Anyway, when I’m done loosening up all those muscles, then it’s your turn to help me do the same.”

“I can agree to that, but hands in all the appropriate places, buddy,” I wagged my finger at him and dropped my torso to the mattress that felt like it was made out of a freaking cloud. Shit. I wasn’t going to make it.

“I never agreed to that,” he shook his head. “But I suppose I can concede to that requirement, if you promise
not
to limit your massage to those same places,” he finished, his voice turning husky as he straddled my hips and pushed up the back of my tank top. I knew he had to be taking in the expanse of my bare skin visible to him now when he didn’t, immediately start his massage and I felt him harden against the small of my back.

“I can’t make that promise,” I replied when cold, unscented lotion hit the spot between my shoulder blades that ached the most. “Above the waist and below the ass only,” I mumbled as his warm hands went to work. Between the cloud below me and the heavenly hands working out every single knot in my back, I struggled to keep my eyes open. Add to that, the warmth of the room, and I didn’t have a chance. I just hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at me for not holding up my end of the bargain. Before Ryan, fighting sleep was something that came so easily to me, which left me to wonder if I was able to let my guard down around him because I felt safe or if the foreign surroundings made my usual routine moot.