Free Uncovering You 7: Resurrection by Scarlett Edwards Page B

here.
    “You!” I exclaim. “What are you doing outside my door?”
    He looks at me, surprise and shock flashing on his face. And then he turns around and breaks into a run.
    “Wait!” I scream. I scramble to tighten my boots—they weren’t meant for running, just for keeping me warm—and take off after him.
    I see him disappear behind a corner of the building, far ahead of me. I lower my head and run faster. This is me channeling the remnants of the tomboy I was growing up. When I come around the corner, the man is gone.
    I stop short. He couldn’t have just disappeared. But there are so many doors lining the side of the building in front of me. Any one of them could have been his escape.
    I stalk forward, determined. Could he just be a creepy cab driver, or—more likely—could he be somebody planted by Jeremy?
    I wish the snow hadn’t been cleared away. That way, I could follow his tracks.
    One round up and down the exterior of the building leads me nowhere. There’s no sign of the man. Besides, if he’s inside one of the rooms, it’s not like I’m going to just break down the door and get to him.
    The door. Shit! I left mine open. And all my stuff is inside…
    I rush back, hoping and praying I haven’t been duped—and come to the door to see my worst fears realized.
    The inside of my motel room has been wiped clean. My bags, my purse, my belongings, my cellphone—all gone.
    “Motherfucking dammit!” I scream. I fell for the oldest trick in the book. I should have known better. I’ve stayed in dumps like this before. But my instincts have dulled in my time at Yale and with Jeremy.
    This was a two-man job. The first, the driver, saw a young girl checking into a crappy motel, alone but clearly affluent, and identified her as vulnerable. He probably even had the room set up beforehand for exactly this type of thing. Then, while he served as the distraction, his friend staked out my room for the moment I left.
    And I made it all-too-easy for them.
    Idiot ! I scold myself. I reach into my pocket. At least I still have the car keys—
    I’m distracted into looking up by the squeal of wet tires on the asphalt. And there, as if to add insult to injury, I find my red rented Corolla careening out of the parking lot, two figures clearly visible inside.
    “No,” I say. “No, no, no, no…!”
    My fingers wrap around the car keys. Obviously, they weren’t the only pair. That means the guy at the rental place was in on it, too. I’ve just been completely, utterly conned.
    Despair wells up inside me as I watch the car shrink in the distance.
    Way to go, Lilly, I think. The very first time you’re on your own, this happens.
    I almost feel like breaking down on the spot.
    But I don’t. I’ve faced adversity before. This is just a blip on the radar compared to what I’ve overcome with Jeremy. I’ve lost some stuff. So what? It’s not like it can’t be replaced.
    The biggest fear I have—the one that is making me most uncomfortable—is what happens when Jeremy finds out? How much lower will his already-low perception of me become? He’ll think me completely incompetent.
    That is the impression I have to do everything to avoid. But what can I do? Who else could I call?
    The cops? Hah! Like they’ll put any real effort into a small-time robbery like this? And if I call Jeremy now, I’d be doing little better than crawling back to him on my hands and knees.
    That is not something I can allow myself to do.
    So, I cast one look at the empty motel room…wrap my winter coat tight around myself…and start my journey toward the only person in the world on whom I swore I would never rely on again.
     
    ***
     
    The wind picks up as I trudge along the side of the long, empty freeway.
    I huddle into my jacket and pull the hood up. The entire way, I’ve had less than a dozen cars pass me. I really am in the middle of nowhere.
    Two hours ago, I stopped at a city center and asked for directions to the diner. I was