Harley's Choice Read Free

in training to be an assassin? You don’t.
    So I just had to hope they would be here. To
protect me and to, I hope, still love me. I may never have spoken
with them, but I never forgot them.
    I
wondered how they looked and how they must have changed. I wondered
if they would recognize me. I hoped so. Would I be able to
recognize them? I hoped so. I never looked in on them, I didn’t
want to know. I didn’t want to know what they were doing; I didn’t
want to know if they were married or if they were dead; I just
simply didn’t want to know.
    I pulled up to the hotel right at four pm
and pulled out the guest parking pass that had come with the
reservation and turned into the parking garage. I felt my breath
hitch and my skin crawl as I parked then I went to the trunk to get
my stuff and as I opened it I realized I’d be carrying a few extra
items. There was not only three additional birthday presents, there
was also a long package wrapped with standard brown packaging and
tied with a white string.
    I saw that the box carried my dad’s personal
signature of a rose and a dagger. I smiled and put it under my
arm.
    The rest I put into my suitcase which was
nowhere near full, in fact it only had a duffle bag and my
messenger bag. I don’t actually pack enough to fill up the large
suitcase. I have learned over the years that a normal single woman
usually packs more luggage than a small duffle bag and a messenger
purse, so I stick those items in the suitcase and carry the clutch
wallet and people pay attention less.
    As I made my way to the reception desk I
thought about what my father would have packed for me. I dinged the
bell and was greeted by a professional looking woman with a big
smile. “Welcome, how may I help you?”
    “Yes, I have a reservation.” I handed over
the confirmation and as she studied it, I realized I should have
dressed more…well more. I was wearing jeans, a tee and tennies. The
women walking around were dressed immaculate and made me feel
frumpy, but hell I just drove in from Phoenix, but still I think if
I had put on heels I would have fit in a bit better, but no one was
looking, so next time.
    “Here we are. Harley Shelton room 527. Are
you here for the reunion?”
    “Yes.” She nodded and handed me the key card
for the room and the packet for the reunion.
    “You are a day early, you know that
right?”
    “Yes, I do, but tell me, has anyone else for
the reunion checked in yet? I’m just so excited to see everyone
again.” I spoke with false enthusiasm, but she bought it.
    “Oh I understand” she bubbled “and actually
yes, the fifth and sixth floors have been reserved for the reunion,
there are few people here already”
    “Very good, thanks.” I took my key card and
paperwork and headed to the elevators. The ride up was thick with
fear, anticipation, trepidation, expectations, and anxiety – it was
a thrilling ride. My stomach flipped one way then another – then
the doors opened.
    Nothing.
    There was no one about, I didn’t see a
soul.
    Thank god.
    I mean I know I would eventually see people
from my past but I would like it very much on my terms, not just
coming off an eight hour drive.
    I found my room number, sort of in the
middle of the hallway and as I stood at my door I looked left and
right then unlocked my door and entered the room, with one more
look out into the hallway I shut the door and threw the lock and
bolt home. I took a deep breath and then ran to the bathroom.
    With the pressure in my bladder relieved I
took my suitcase and package to the bed and plopped down. I looked
at the box with an odd sense of love and disgust. I picked it up
and placed it my lap and ran my fingers over the design that my
father created thirty years ago and had made into a stamp. Yes,
that’s right my father adopted it as his signature so he didn’t
have to sign things like packages, envelopes and such.
    I grabbed the letter opener off the desk and
went to town. On the inside of the