Free Blitz (Emerald City/Black Family Saga Book 1) by Felicia X. Scully Page B

the double glass doors behind me. “Straight down the hallway, third door on your right.”
    “Thanks,” I say.

    Typical, Sydney. Typical.
    I sigh, glancing behind me in search of anything that looks remotely like a hallway. I’m lost already and I’ve only been looking for thirty seconds. The inside of the house is pretty much open concept, like one big studio apartment. There are barely any walls and let alone hallways. There are windows at every corner and everything is covered in the same immaculate cedar as the outside. Every piece of furniture is either oak or leather. There are literal moose heads on the walls and a rifle, which I’m hoping isn’t loaded, rests atop a mantel on proud display.
    Off to my side is a set of stairs and I make my way toward it. The plush carpet squishes beneath my feet as I take them one at time, my bladder feeling like it’s about to explode. There is a bathroom at the very top. After I finally relieve myself, I hurry back toward the stairs. I need to get out of here. Now. Then I need to go home and come up with a plan. A way to get myself out of this mess.  
    I suppose there’s always the possibility of going back to Texas. I could agree with Mom and finally sell the house. Or I could just grow some balls and live in it. But selling would be better. That way I’d have money and I could get some actual training. Become legit and take on real clients. There’s always a need for P.I.s in Sweetwater. Or maybe I could go to Dallas. Or come right back here to Seattle. For all I know Reese will need me. If she…
    I shake the thought from my head. She will recover. I know it.  
    As I approach the stairs, I catch a glimpse of a room off to my left. There is a license plate hanging on it with the letters R-A-Y, awkwardly spaced out like someone scratched the others off. When I get closer, I realize they’re painted over. It’s an Idaho plate and right beside the words “famous potatoes” there is a sticker of a blue and white hawk head with a bright green eye.  
    “Seahawks.” I brush my fingers over the plate and the door creaks open. “You’re cue, Sydney,” I mutter to myself. “Do not go in there.” I crane my neck to peer through the doorway and throw a glance over my shoulder, my curious nature taking over. “What the hell. Not like I’ll ever get a shot like this again.”
    Stepping into Ray's room is like going back in time. The navy blue sheet set, gray carpet, and oak bedroom set remind me of my high school-boyfriend Joshua’s room. Only everything is clean. No pile of dirty clothes in the corner. No empty food containers on the desk. Immaculate. Likely at the hand of his dear auntie. I walk straight toward the floor-to-ceiling window across from me. The view of the side yard makes me instantly homesick. A thick forest meets a field of wild flowers. The sun peaks through the tips of fir trees as it makes its descent.  
    I sigh. Time to go. Back home where I belong.  
    I turn to leave and that’s when I notice a photograph perched on Ray's nightstand. I pick it up and gaze at the girl staring back. Her hair is dark and wavy, her eyes a ghostly gray. With defined cheekbones and full lips even her picture’s got most girls beat.  
    “A little lost?”
    I jump at the sounds of Ray's voice. “Oh, God.” I rest the picture back down. “Yes, I fully admit to being the snoop I am. I saw the license plate, the door opened and the view and I…”
    Ray chuckles. “The door just opened all by itself?”
    “No. I mean I pushed it. But I didn’t mean to.” I cover my face with my hands. “I’m sorry. I feel like that’s all I know how to say to you people. And even that doesn’t sound convincing.”
    “It’s cool. I wanted to offer you a drive home. That cab out here couldn’t have been cheap.”
    I wasn’t. I consider the void in my wallet. “That would be great. Thank you.”
    “So what do you think of my old room?”
    “Cute,” I reply, my gaze