Silence, that was what she was being met with now. It was far more comfortable than pretending with words. If he was done talking, that suited her just fine. Laura followed behind him in complete silence. When a man they passed on the street gave her a hungry once over, she gave him the middle finger and kept walking. maybe after she was let into a room she could go out and find a way to dispel the anger that had risen in her and had no chance for real release. Rather that than wreck a perfectly good hotel room (and ruin her chance of getting more than one night out of it) she could play vigilante and pick a fight with someone who deserved to have their face smashed in. Win win all around, really.
She gave the door man a wary glance, and he returned the gaze with just as much hesitance. He watched her look around and saw the smirk he wore as he closed the door behind her. No doubt scenes of Pretty Woman were flashing through his pea brain. Whatever. He was an inconsequential player in her game.
It was warm and a little more high class than she'd been expecting. Had she known it was more than the usual sort of Holiday Inn, Laura would have gone for her things and dressed to better blend. Not that she cared so much that she looked like the two dollar hooker the guy was bringing in with him, but people who stood out were more memorable. The last thing she wanted to be was memorable.
"One night," she told him quietly, "then I'm out of your hair."
There was a small, timid part of Laura that was touched when someone offered her help. No one had ever really cared for her in the way normal people did. She was created to be a weapon, merchandise. Her value came from what she could produce, either in body count or in dollar bills. If she was emotional, she was defective. It was self-preservation that made her into the cold person she was. Still, that small part of her that was desperate for real affection prodded her to murmur a genuine, "Thanks."