I open it and rummage through. Gum, hair clips, tissues, lip gloss, and an old, cheap cell phone. It is flat, so I can’t access it. I pull out a slip of paper. It is her boarding pass. One-way economy airfare to New York from Oklahoma, arriving yesterday at 4am. She took the red eye; no wonder she was exhausted.

I grab her wallet. Looking through it, I notice she doesn’t have much. Only about $200 in cash, which would last her less than a week here in the city, a bank card, and a driver's license

I look at her ID. Annie Peterson. You can’t get more American than that. She looks to have just turned 21 and is from a small town in Oklahoma, which explains her sweet, southern accent. A quick search online, and I see her residential address is a trailer park just outside of the main town.

My boys leave, and I call Carter and ask him to run an ID check to get more information on her. Then I take her wallet and the rest of her handbag down to my room. It is close to 2pm now, so I am startled when I open the bedroom door and see her back on the bed, asleep. I stop midstride and look around the room, noticing her food tray is once again untouched and nothing else has been moved. I place her handbag on the dresser and quietly walk over to the bed.

Standing over her, I look over her sleeping body. She must have had a shower because her hair is damp and now braided in two perfect plaits running down her back. The need to grab them is near stifling. My eyes wander her face, and my heart stops as I see a bruise on her cheekbone around her eye.

“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself as my fingers reach out and softly caress the discoloration, feeling the lump underneath. My eyes drift down her body, checking for anything else amiss, and I clench my teeth, as the white shirt she is wearing, my shirt, has ridden up and is around her waist. Her perfect ass and curves are on full display, along with some black cotton briefs. But I have little time to enjoy the view as my eyes get stuck on her hip, where a massive black bruise has formed. It looks painful, and I wish I knew what the hell had happened.

Glancing around the room again, I don’t see any clues as to what may have caused this. Everything looks just as I left it. I quietly step away from her and back out the door, heading down to see Maria. I need her to leave pain relief for her and some arnica cream. She is going to be sore when she wakes up, and then we will have a little talk.

8

Annie