by T. S. Hill
My initial intention had been to finish pulling her from the car, and leave her there on the side of the road. After all, she had charged my car, involving me in whatever mischief she was up to, threatened to kill me, then tried to grab my gun to do it with. I owed her nothing. Still, I reasoned, I had hit her, and maybe hurt her badly. And, she was, well, just too damn beautiful to leave on the side of the road.
“Why am I such a sucker for a pretty face and a well-turned leg?”, I asked myself aloud, reaching down, and gently brushing aside her shoulder length, blonde, curly hair. Touching her soft, small neck, I felt her pulse beating smooth and regular.
I let the back of the passenger seat back into a reclining position, then carefully lifted her into my arms, pausing for just a second, to gaze at her beautiful sleeping face. Then, positioning her on the seat as I imagined would be comfortable, I stepped back to see if any adjustments were necessary.
She took a slow, deep breath, like a sleeping child. Her pert, ample breasts rose and strained against the white cotton material of her blouse. Despite feeling a slight pang of guilt for ogling an unconscious woman, I stood mesmerized for probably a full minute, studying her form, from the top of her blonde head, to the tip of her tanned cowboy boots. She was the most exquisite creature that I had ever looked upon. Everything that I was a sucker for, she had.
Finally, I snapped back to myself, realizing what a risk being here on the side of the road was. Quickly glancing up and down the still clear highway, I fastened her seatbelt and shoulder harness over her.
As I adjusted the shoulder strap placement, just above her right breast and under her left, my head was in the car and up close to her face. Her lips were as perfect and rosy as a sculpted doll’s, and only hinted of lipstick. She had the face of a movie star, but without needing the movie star makeup. She was just naturally, and totally, beautiful.
I didn’t recognize it then, but I was already, at least partially, chained in an emotional way to this potty mouthed, tanned, blonde, beauty. Not understanding exactly why, I leaned into the car just a little further and kissed her gently on her forehead.
At the same instant that I kissed her, I realized what I was doing, and blurted out loud, “What the hell?” For a moment, I thought of dragging her back out of the car and leaving her just as I first intended, but then with another glance at her goddess body and face, I carefully closed the car door, and ran to jump into the driver’s seat.
A quick check in the rearview side mirror, then straight ahead, gave me the last clear highway view that I would see for days. The right rear tire spun, and screeched a short complaint, as I steered the Mustang back onto the east bound black top.
Glancing once more at the sleeping beauty, I then fixed my eyes and attention on the road ahead. The sun would be going down soon, and after that, it would be easier to hide in plain sight on the highway. I flipped on the car radio. An oldies AM station was playing an old Neil Diamond tune, Thank the Lord for the Nighttime. “Amen!”, I said aloud, “Amen!”
As soon as darkness fell, I would able to push some speed on the desert highway, and get a little closer to resolving the final issues that were complicating my life. But for now, it would only be a few more miles until I had burned the last one hundred of the three-hundred-mile tank of gas. I needed to find a gasoline station soon, and I knew, or hoped, at some point the blonde beauty would wake up.
I decided to enjoy what silence that would be left of the ride, between now and whichever occurred first, and flipped the radio back off. Being alone with my thoughts, would allow me to develop a strategy for dealing with the blonde. This was not what I needed right now, another complication in my life.
I wondered what the hell I was thinking when I put her back in my car. I knew for sure that I had just bit off a whole shit load of trouble, that I didn’t need or have to have. Yeah. What the hell was I thinking? Glancing over at her peacefully sleeping face, I knew what I was thinking. I knew exactly what I was thinking.
I had been thinking that I wanted to make mad love to her, more than I had ever wanted anyone, and I didn’t even know her. I was thinking that once would not be enough. I was thinking that I could never get enough of her. I was thinking of all the different ways we could make love, and in many places, sometimes soft and gentle, and sometimes rough. I was thinking about blind folding her and tying her up in a barn loft and then having my way with her.
I was thinking of bending her over my lap, and spanking her ass until it was rouge red, then spreading her out on the kitchen table. I was thinking of taking her to my tree house in the swamp, and fucking her naked on the rough plank floor. I was thinking about kissing her beautiful cherry red lips, and how wonderful they would feel wrapped around my hard cock. I was thinking and thinking of her, and not thinking of what I needed to be thinking of.
“I’m thinking that I’m in deep shit!”, I announced aloud. “Yep! Mighty deep shit!”
“You don’t know the half of it.”, the blonde groaned, slowly rolling her head to the side facing me, then opening her eyes. This was the first time that I had seen her eyes open and I was glad that the sun hadn’t gone completely down yet, or I would have missed their wild hazel color, and eerie beauty.
“Wow!”, I said, “You have beautiful eyes.”
“Really?”, she said. I was about to respond when she interrupted me, and I was glad that I hadn’t. “Really? You fucking near kill me, and that’s the first fucking thing you have to say to me? Really?”
“Okay, I’m glad that you’re alive.” I stammered.
“Well, fuck if you’re not mister nice guy.”, she said with a sneer in her voice.
“Fuck!”, I blurted, frustrated. “I knew that I should have left you on the side of the damn road!”
Closing her eyes and raising her left hand to the top of her head, she moaned, “I wish the fuck you had.”
“Yeah, I should have.”, I popped back, “And, left you to whatever fate that gun slinging store clerk had in mind for you.”
“Oh, yeah, that.”, she, said meekly, “Okay then, thanks for saving me.” She almost sounded sincere.
“Don’t thank me.”, I responded, “You saved yourself when you dove into my car. I actually threw you out before you were knocked out, if you can remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.”, she responded meekly, lowering her hand from her head, and turning again to face me, “Then what am I doing here?” I didn’t answer, but kept my eyes straight ahead on the road. My grip tightened a little on the wheel, and my foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator. I couldn’t think of an answer to give her that wouldn’t have given away the real reason, so I kept silent. But, I knew instinctively that she, somehow, probably already knew the answer. And that, put me at a great disadvantage.
Another ten miles down the road and we were in complete darkness, but I could see a glow over the next hill that indicated, most likely, a small town. That would have to be Canadian, Texas. I remember that when I thought of the town’s name it lit up something in my mind. There had been a slight hint of a Canadian accent in the blonde’s voice. Not a lot. Not enough to readily recognize it. But it was there, no doubt.
There would be gasoline in Canadian, and hopefully a rest room, and some space I could walk the cramps out of my legs. I put the Canadian accent out of my mind for the time being, and started watching for road signs for a good place to stop. Not another word had passed between us, since our brief conversation when the blonde came to, which had suited me just fine. But, I knew that whatever she was up to, was spinning in her head, as well as a plot to play me to her advantage. It takes a brave and confident woman to dive into a stranger’s car, under fire. It takes a woman who can think on her feet, and roll with the punches. She had beauty, brains, and bravery.
That combination could play out to be deadly. My added job now was to see that it didn’t play out on me, or interfere with my finishing what I had to do. Whatever happened to her from here on wasn’t rea
lly my responsibility. But I was inexplicably pained to think about letting go of her, and never setting eyes on her beauty again. I didn’t even know her name, and yet I was having these feelings. These kinds of thoughts and feelings were all new, and weird, for me, and I didn’t understand why I was having them. Without thinking further, I interrupted the dark silence.
“You awake?”, I asked.
“Yes.”, was her terse response.
“My name’s Stan.”, I partially lied.
“So?”, she responded.
“I just thought that maybe you could call me by some name besides bastard, or mister nice guy.”, I proposed.
“And why would I want to do that?”, she retorted.
“Maybe for a ride to the next town.”, I gruffed back at her.
“Okay, I’m sorry, Stan.”, she relented.
After a moment of silence, I asked, “So, you got a name?”
“Yes.”, was her response, and then more silence.
“You’re not easy, you know?”, I responded. She said nothing. After a few more minutes of silence I spoke again, “So, is there a name you would like for me to call you, besides blonde, hateful, bitch?”
“Look, you fucking asshole!”, she started, but cut herself off. Then, after a couple of seconds pause, she started again in a more moderated tone, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, but if you didn’t happen to notice, I’m having something of a shitty day.”
“No shit!”, I responded, “Guess whose day immediately turned shitty, promptly upon meeting you?” Even by the glow of the instrument panel, it was too dark in the car to see her face, but I could feel her cold stare at me.
“Kody”, she stated flatly, “Spelled with a K”.
“That store clerk thought your name was Kathleen, but I don’t know if he spelled it with a C or a K.”, I responded to her, trying to keep my voice even and nonchalant.
“I lied.”, she said flatly, and then returned to silence.
After a few seconds, I continued, still trying to sound nonchalant and calm, “About which, Kody or Kathleen, C or K?”
“Both of both”, she responded, followed by more silence.
Continuing with the even keeled voice, I asked, “Then what should I call you?” I could hear her taking a deep breath, and then slowly releasing it, with a little sigh at the end.
“Just call me whatever suits you”, She said in a soft, even tone, “and take my word for it, telling you my actual name would complicate things for the both of us, and not in a way that you would like.”
I don’t know why I responded to her in the way that I did. Perhaps it was because I believed her, and perhaps it was because it was the same reason that I wasn’t revealing my actual real name to her.
“I can respect that, Lori.”, I said.
“What?”, she snapped.
“Lori”, I responded, “I said that I can respect that, Lori. I think that I’ll call you Lori. You look like a woman that would be named Lori. Yes. Lori, it is. Stan, meet Lori. Lori meet Stan.”
“Look Stan,” she started, “I’m just trying to roll with the punches here and survive. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Lori.”, I replied, “I’m, all about rolling with the punches, and sometimes, I even swim against the tide.”
“Yeah, me too.”, she quipped back, “I was swimming against the tide when we met.”
“No shit!”, I laughed back.
“No shit!”, she giggled. Then there was silence again for the next few minutes as we digested our new, very limited, understanding, and respect of, and for, each other. So far, I knew that she was smart, brave, and beautiful. Holy shit was she beautiful! I also knew that she was in some kind of trouble, and could be trouble herself. I wondered if she thought that I was handsome, smart and brave, and definitely in trouble. That really didn’t matter though. Getting from where we were to where I needed to be, with everything in between resolved, did matter. I knew that at least my life depended on it, and maybe hers.
After a bit longer, I broke the silence again, “Obviously, I have decided to give you a ride, but you haven’t told me which way you’re headed.”
“You’re headed in the right direction.”, she readily responded this time.
“East? How far east?”, I questioned further.
“How far you going?”, she asked, coyly answering my question with a question.
“Obviously, we’re not going to swap that info either.” I answered. “So, I’ll tell you what. If I’m going at least as far east as you want to go, then you can ride with me. If I’m not going that far, then you’ll have to make other arrangements, when I reach my getting off place.”
“Why don’t you just keep heading east until either you get off, or I tell you it’s my spot to unhitch my boxcar.”, she countered. Yeah, I wanted to get off with her alright, and what I really wanted, was to hitch up with her boxcar. Of course, I knew that short of rape, I would ruin any slim chance that I had, if I said anything like that, so although I thought it, I bit my tongue.
“This whole conversation makes me wonder if either one of us knows where we are going.”, I stated frankly.
“Good point. “, she countered, “Very good point.”
“Well, Lori,”, I ventured, “I guess we’ll just see where we wind up.”
“Yes, Stan. I guess we will.”, she said, as her voice trailed off. Silently, I was wondering if she was on to what I was secretly thinking. The strange thing about being in the company of this woman, was that no matter how bitchy she was, or evasive, with every minute that I spent with her, I found myself attracted to her even more. At first, I had just admired her beauty. Then, I wondered if that fabulous tan of hers was an all over tan. Soon after, the thought crept in of how lovely her lips would be on mine, and how wonderful having her hot tanned legs wrapped around me would be.
Now, weirdly, I seemed to be attracted to her voice, her company, and our interaction. I felt as though a spell had been cast on me. The further we had traveled, I had fantasized even more about her. If this kept up, I would be a horny train wreck by the time I reached my Oklahoma City and Dallas destinations.
Somehow though, I had to keep my “head between my shoulders” in charge, and keep the “head between my legs”, out of the business at hand. It was proving to be a hard thing to do though. With every glance that I took at her, it was proving to be a very hard thing indeed.
Chapter Two
Rolling with the Punches
When you’re having a bad day, one path back to stability, is to pass it forward to someone else.
The fuel indicator was bouncing on the E when we eased into the outer western reaches of Canadian, Texas. I could see as we passed under the glow of the street lights, that the young woman I was now calling Lori, was still very much awake, and holding her right hand to her head.
Lori, your head hurt much”, I queried, breaking the silence again. She simply turned her face toward me and glared. “I’ll pick you up something when we stop for gas.”, I let her know, “and that won’t be long or we’ll be out of gas and walking.
“Then find a fucking station, now!”, she snarled, with unexpected panic and urgency in her voice.
“Easy!”, I tried to sooth her, “I’m not your enemy.”
“Yeah, I’ll try to tell my head that.”, she groaned.
“I think I see something just ahead.”, I offered. “Oh, good!”, she sighed with relief, I can’t afford to get stuck out on the road, and my head is fucking pounding.”
I pulled the Mustang into the lot of the convenience store/filling station, and directly to the fill pumps. There wasn’t another car in the lot when I pulled in, save one, rust bucket of a Toyota, at the outer far edge of the lot, which I assumed would be the store clerk’s ride.
I left forty dollars cash with the clerk, intending to fill the Mustang‘s tank, but upon returning to the parking lot, it seemed that cars came from everywhere, and people began pumping gas, calling out to each o
ther, and running in and out of the convenience store.
It was a crowd of young people, high school students I surmised, all of whom seemed to know each other. Their socializing seemed more important to them than their other business. They bought snacks, pumped gas, joked, and gossiped with a quick-witted ease, characteristic of familiar acquaintances. I figured they were harmless, and so took my time in pumping the gas, and watching their interaction with amusement.
There was one girl in particular that most of the boys seemed to be trying to impress. She was indeed a pretty girl, and quite sexy in her blue and white, cheerleading uniform. Her shining, long, black hair, which was pulled away from her face and pinned at the back of her head, contrasted against the pale white skin of her face. Her dark eyes sparkled when she laughed, and she would switch her hips with every opportunity, flipping the short hem of her cheerleader skirt high upon her smooth white thighs.
All the boys noticed, as did I. In fact, I noticed too much, and missed the police cruiser pulling into the lot from just behind me. I first noticed the head lights sweep across the group of teens just ahead of me, and turned to be surprised, by the two uniformed cops climbing out of their car. They were both young guys, and both were looking at the teens and grinning.
“Heelloo, Jimmy Raaay” purred the dark-haired cheerleader to one of the cops. He grinned, and called back to her, “Hi Chris Ann!” The cop that had spoken, strolled on in through the door of the store, and appeared to be making a purchase.
The other cop leaned against the door of the prowl car, folded his arms, and without speaking, watched the teens banter and play at each other. I was glad the teens were there to keep the cops distracted and occupied, so as to not notice me. Evidently, they weren’t looking for a smoky grey 2017 Mustang, rental car, or I would have already had their attention. Just as I was finishing up with the gas, the first cop exited the convenience store.