HOSTAGE
[ BOOK TWO ] ✧
WARNING: SMUT
Harper Verum's sophomore year had not turned out at all how she expected it to. In fact, everything changed last year. From relationships to psychotic alpha werewolves, a Kanima, and a creepy stalker, this year h...
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' like a married couple '
"You know, there is seriously something wrong with this place," Lydia huffed, zipping up one of her cosmetic bags and grabbing all of her stuff off of the dresser, "hey, Allison, Harper, we need to leave."
She shoved them into her bag quickly, not waiting for either girls' responses.
"But they were suicides, not murders," Allison replied softly, "and it's not like this place is haunted, right?"
Lydia turned to face Harper and Allison, shaking her head, "maybe it is," she sighed, "you know, I bet that couple made their suicide pact in that very room. Harper, you must have felt something too? Could you feel the emotional trauma? The pain?"
Harper's eyes softened at her freaked out friend, "I didn't feel anything inside the room particuarly," she shook her head, "I feel mental and physical pain just being in this motel, after finding out what happened here."
The strawberry blonde remained silent for a second before coming up with an idea.
"Maybe that's why they're renovating. Maybe they've been scraping brain matter off the wood panelling," Lydia suggested.
"Maybe we should find out."
The three girls had made their way back down to reception, only to be dissapointed when they saw no old woman and just a sign that read 'back at 6am' in her place.
Harper sighed, "we'll ask in the morning," she yawned, feeling herself become more tired.
"Didn't you say the sign said one-nine-eight?" Allison panicked, looking up at the red lettering that now read 'two-zero-one'.
"It was one-nine-eight," Lydia replied, "I swear to god it was one-nine-eight."
"It was," Harper agreed, a lot more awake and confused than before.
Allison frowned, "okay, so what does that mean, that there's been three more suicides?"
"Or three more are about to happen," Lydia gulped.
...
"No, no, no, no, and no. We are not asking Stiles for help," Harper snapped, rolling her eyes, "I can be just as smart as he is, we can work this out without him."
Lydia threw her hands up in the air, "look, Harper, I know that you two aren't exactly talking-"
"He thinks I'm a bloody murderer!" Harper cried, her accent unintentionally becoming thicker with the angrier that she grew, "I don't even want to look at Stiles, yet alone talk to him."
"Harper, lives are at stake here," Allison retorted, holding her arms to stop her from pacing around their hotel room, "and I know that you are just as smart as Stiles, but right now we have nothing, and he could be our only hope."
