Broken by Travis Thrasher

Author:Travis Thrasher [THRASHER, TRAVIS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042060
ISBN: 9780446569804
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2010-05-25T04:00:00+00:00

• • •

She has been here before. And time has not been kind to either of them.

This section of the French Quarter is quieter, with fewer tourists. They had found it together, and it had been perfect. A hotel occupying three 1830 town houses with thirty-three rooms. They had gotten a room with a balcony and had stayed in the city for a week.

As Laila walks in the remodeled lobby, she wonders what she’s doing here and if this indeed is a sanctuary. She wonders if the memories will serve to heal or to imprison.

It doesn’t look very busy. She is greeted by a gentle woman who could be her grandmother who talks about the grounds and the surrounding neighborhood. Laila books what is called a superior room on the third floor and says she will be staying for a few days. She pays in cash and has to leave a copy of her license because she doesn’t leave a credit card on file.

Laila walks up the spiraling staircase and down a hall decorated with antiques to her room. Unlocks the door with a real key and then locks it behind her with old-fashioned genuine locks.

It looks different, but she believes it’s the same room.

She opens the door to the balcony and looks outside.

And that’s when she knows.

This is it.

The same room and the same balcony.

His name was Erik and he was heaven and he caused the earth to move for her and she would have given him everything and eventually did.

He told Laila he loved her and she believed him. As much as any seventeen-year-old might believe the words of a twenty-two-year-old.

She sighs and stares outside at the street. It’s so quiet, almost too quiet. For a moment she thinks she sees something moving on the street in her peripheral vision, but when her glance shifts she sees nothing.

A chill goes through her as she looks down.

She’s not sure if she’s looking out there to remember or to make sure no one’s following her.

Without bothering to change out of the clothes she’s worn all day, Laila drifts off as darkness blankets the city, wrapping herself in the warmth of memory. The week from her youth spent in New Orleans drifts by in echoes and apparitions. It is soft and cool and slow and lovely. She savors tastes and relishes sounds and embraces textures all foreign and alive and new. Her world back in Texas and the world that awaits her when they leave is all put on hold for seven sensuous days.

Laila is intertwined with Erik when a voice wakes her up.

The voice whispers a name she doesn’t recognize, a name that doesn’t make sense.

“Marie.”

She opens her eyes and sees the glow of the city outside the balcony.

“Don’t leave,” the voice says to her, this time a little louder.

Still groggy, Laila jumps up and looks around the room. “Hello?”

“Stay with me,” the voice says.

“Who’s there?”

She turns on a light, and it barely illuminates the room. The voice she heard is a boy’s voice, talking as if he might be right there in the room.

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