he’d need inside. He’d take his truck, leaving the more maneuverable bike in the garage. His rifle would be stored in a case under the seat, as would another case of ammunition.
The last item to go inside his duffle was his cut. He’d slid out of it, folding the leather vest. Setting it on top of everything, he secured the clasps, slinging the bag over his shoulder.
After a brief call to Wrath, Fuse locked his house. It would take close to two hours to reach the complex where he’d join Mitch. Maybe then the unease he felt would begin to recede.
Eyes bursting open, Brittany sat up, stiffening when she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Her head whirled one way, then another before she began to relax, letting out a breath. She was in her new apartment in Phoenix.
“Ugh!” She covered her face with both hands, falling back onto the mattress. Turning her head, she checked the time. Almost six in the morning. Nine o’clock eastern time. Late for her.
Groaning, she threw off the covers. Padding to the kitchen, she reached for the single serve coffeepot, thankful whoever owned the place had provided several individual cups of regular and decaf.
Waiting for the cup to brew, she finger combed her hair, absently walking to the front window. The sun hadn’t risen, making it hard to see. If it weren’t for the lights lining the brick walkway and the occasional porch light, she’d be fighting total darkness.
Peering outside, she narrowed her gaze. It was useless. She could try the back patio and window out of her bedroom, knowing it would be the same until the sun rose.
Grabbing her cup, she sat down at the dining room table with a pad of paper and pen. She had a lot to do before her first day in the Phoenix office tomorrow. Buying additional groceries topped the list, followed by purchasing a car. Something used, practical, able to travel around the state on weekends and holidays.
First, she’d shower, dress, and get breakfast at one of the nearby cafés. She’d walked past one yesterday offering fresh muffins.
If she still had time after her errands, Brittany planned to visit the senator’s office and get her desk in order. Hours had already been spent acquainting herself with the senator’s position on various issues, which legislators she respected, the ones she didn’t, studying relationships with each. It was a necessary process. One she’d continue today if time permitted.
Feeling the excitement of renewed purpose, she stepped into the large shower. The bath had been a wonderful surprise. New cabinetry, wood-grained tile floors and walls. A waterfall faucet at the sink, and a wide showerhead. She didn’t have any of these in her Manassas apartment.
Scrubbing her hair, Brittany allowed the warm water to sluice over her, relaxing muscles tense from the recent changes. Turning off the faucets, she wrapped herself in a large towel, feeling better than she had in months. Optimism and excitement over her future rolled through her.
Selecting another towel, she dried her hair, humming an old Juice Newton song her mother loved. Something about queens and hearts. She might not know the words, but she definitely knew the tune.
Without looking, she pushed open the shower door, prepared to step out when the distinctive rattle of a snake reached her ears. Three feet from the shower, a diamondback rattler coiled in the corner. The scream ricocheted off the tile walls, the shower door slamming shut as she jumped back.
Heart pounding, she leaned against the wall, trying to control her erratic breathing. Stuck in the shower because of a snake. The reality of it would’ve made her laugh if it wasn’t such a serious situation. At least she’d brought her phone into the bathroom. Unfortunately, it was on the counter above the snake.
Moving to the door, she peered through the glass, spotting the phone. The snake hadn’t moved. Her hope stuttered, even as she racked her brain with ideas on what to do while clutching the towel around her.
The towel. She recalled seeing a show about snakes where handlers tossed a tarp over the reptile, protecting themselves long enough to get out of an enclosure. Brittany glanced down at the towel large enough to cover her entire body.
Glancing out the glass door once more, she gauged the size of the snake against the dimensions of the towel. If she threw it just right, she might be able to grab her phone and call the complex manager. It was a gamble, but she