“He grabbed my shoulders and pinned me down. I screamed. And screamed. No one came. No one probably even noticed. People screaming in that building was normal. Expected. The guy was huge. He came down on me, and I bit his ear. Hard. Tasted blood. Even felt something start to come away. He swore and slapped me. He moved to the side enough for me to get one leg free, and I kneed him. Over and over and over. He cussed and swore and spit. I grabbed his greasy hair and yanked.”
My words came hard and fast now. I couldn’t stop. I was back there. Back in that filthy room, fighting for my life. I kept talking, not even aware I wasn’t alone.
“He howled and fell off my bed, hitting the floor with a sick clump. I struggled up. He grabbed my ankle, so I started kicking, still screaming. His ear was bleeding all over the floor. His hand on my ankle slipped, and I got free. I ran out of the apartment and hid under the stairs in the hall. I squatted there, folded up on myself, panting and waiting.”
“Waiting?”
“For him to leave.”
“You couldn’t run for help?”
“Where? Where was I going to run? I didn’t know anyone. Not anyone.” Tears started down my cheeks, and I swiped at them impatiently.
“After a while, he left holding a bloody rag to the side of his face. I crept back into the apartment and bolted the door. I cleaned up the blood.”
Fresh Meat reached for me, but I held him off.
“The blood came up easy, like it was never there in the first place. And then I left.”
“Back here? Didn’t you tell your dad or mom what happened?”
“I told no one. Tried to convince Courtney to find money for a ticket.” I gave a rueful laugh. “Stupid. Don’t even know how she would’ve gotten the money to me. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“What happened?”
“I took money from Dad’s room when I left. It got me to Idaho.”
“Idaho?”
“Yeah, Courtney and Keegan came to get me there.”
“You still didn’t tell them what happened?”
“Why should I? It was over.”
Fresh Meat’s expression clouded with anger. “But the guy didn’t, he didn’t—”
“No.”
He opened his arms. I lay against his chest and tried to relax, but my body was wired and hatred coursed through me.
“It’s okay, Tiffany.”
I sucked in air and fresh tears ran down my face. “It’s not okay. Nothing’s okay,” I choked out.
“They sent me to a counselor.”
I jerked away from his embrace. “What?”
He tried to grab me back, but I struggled against him.
“I only said they sent me to a counselor. You know, after the wreck.”
“What are you saying?”
“Nothing.”
“You think I need a shrink?” My voice became shrill.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s over now. Done.” My expression grew hard. “Why’d I even tell you?”
Fresh Meat’s sigh filled the car. “Because I care about you. That’s why. And I wanted to know what happened.”
“So you can lord it over me? Dispense your almighty wisdom?”
He shook his head and was silent. Then, he laughed. And that was it — the final straw.
“Take me home. I need to pack.”
His brows came down in a worried frown. “Why?”
“I’m leaving.”
“God, Tiffany, I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“You weren’t laughing with me either.”
“It’s what I do. I laugh.”
“Take me home. I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
I saw the worry in his eyes and chose to ignore it.
“I already told you. California.”
“Tiffany…”
I pulled open the door. “Fine. I’ll walk.”
He reached across me and yanked the door shut. “Don’t be dumb. I’ll drive you.”
Neither of us said a word the whole way home.
****
When Fresh Meat pulled up to our condo, I clenched the door handle, ready to bolt. My stomach churned, and my mind seethed. How dare he turn it all into some sort of joke? And then dish out advice like a mighty priest.
My instincts had been right in the first place. Lock the memories inside. Throw the key to the bottom of the sea.
I could feel Fresh Meat staring at the back of my head. I was turned away, ready to leave, but my muscles wouldn’t work.
“Tiffany, I’m sorry. I never meant to laugh. Don’t leave Ocean Mist. It’ll be dangerous.”
My anger rose, and I breathed with relief. Anger I could deal with. Anger was my friend.
“Like I said, no reason to stay.”
“Tiffany.”
I turned and looked at him. “I won’t run away.”
And for a split second, I believed it. If anyone could make me stay, it was him. My anger faded, and my insides went stiff with fear. I had to get away from him. Put distance between us fast. I was getting attached. It would cloud my thinking, make me weak.
I left the car without a backward glance.
****
Once inside the condo, I heard Dad and Denny upstairs hollering and laughing amidst the zings and pops of Denny’s latest video game.
Wasn’t that cozy — the two of them sitting up there playing games together?
I leaned against the back of the door. I’d lied to Fresh Meat. I would run away. I had to.
It was still early. If I packed quickly, I could be out on the road before noon. Someone heading south would pick me up. I was sure of it.
I went upstairs quietly, not wanting to alert either Dad or Denny that I was home. They wouldn’t miss me until late that day. Maybe not even until the next morning.
I crammed some clothes in my backpack and then dug in the bottom of my dresser drawer until I found a wadded-up twenty dollar bill. I’d been saving it, but right then, I couldn’t remember why. I stuck my phone charger in the front pocket and stuffed a thin rain jacket on top of my clothes. Glancing around my room, I realized no one would know I’d packed. It was the same mess as always.
I crept downstairs and snatched a bottle of water and two boxes of toaster pastries from the shelf. I took the foil pouches out of the boxes and put them in my now bulging backpack.
Denny burst out laughing upstairs, and my spine stiffened. I would miss him. I would miss him more than I cared to admit. No matter. He’d be fine without me.
He preferred Dad anyway.
Courtney would pretend to be upset, but I knew the truth. Just like I knew the truth when I’d escaped to Chicago. She’d been glad to see me go. I was a constant pain to her, like an open blister on the back of her heel. She’d jump for joy to have me gone again.
I went outside and ran across the parking lot. I’d have to wait until I was on the state road to start hitching. Otherwise, someone would recognize me. Better that nobody knew I was leaving. At least not until I had a good head start.
I walked quickly, my feet beating out a rhythm on the cracked sidewalk. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky like a happy scene from a picture book. I grimaced. Before Mom got sick, she used to read picture books to us. At the library, we’d load them up into our rickety orange wagon. Denny’d ride on top of the books, and Courtney and I would dance alongside all the way home. Because of Mom’s efforts, I learned to read before going to kindergarten. So when I did start school, the teacher raved and clapped at my brilliance. Until she got to know me. Then she called me a bully and rude and opinionated. She scolded me non-stop, asking me at least four times a day why I wasn’t sweet like my big sister, Courtney.
From that time on, I promised myself I would never, ever, ever be like Courtney.
And I made good on that promise.
I was near the edge of town, and the cars were fewer and further between. Up ahead was the junction where the state road broke of
f to the east. I walked along, kicking up stray pieces of gravel. The edge of the shoulder sloped down into a rut full of rock, sand, dead brush, and an occasional beer can.
A car whizzed by, blowing my hair back and smothering my face with exhaust. A few more yards, and I’d be safe to start hitching.
My phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Hey, Serena.”
“Did you get entered in the contest?”
“No. The school was empty.”
“You still with Fresh Meat?”
“No.”
“Want to meet at The Hang?”
“Can’t right now.”
“I’m not mad at you anymore.”
I smiled. “Good. But I still can’t meet you.”
“The guys are going to be there.”
“The guys?”
“Cody and Marc.”
“Have fun without me.”
“Come on, Tiffany. You can be there.”
A car was approaching. I stuck out my thumb.
“No, I can’t.” I hung up.
The car skidded to a stop in front of me, spraying gravel everywhere. I ducked the rock storm and ran over to the passenger side. The driver rolled down the window.
“Heading south?” I asked.
The old lady observed me with bleary brown eyes. She wore her frizzed gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Her stomach pooched out, pressing into the base of the steering wheel. “You got a gun?” she asked in a rough smoker voice.
“No.”
“Your boyfriend hiding in the weeds somewhere?”
I looked around. To the side of the road was an open field. “No tall weeds to hide in.”
“Don’t get sassy.”
“Fine. No hidden boyfriend.”
“Get in.”
I wrenched open the door, tossed my backpack onto the floorboard, and hopped in. She yanked the car back into gear, and we took off.
“South, huh?” she asked without looking at me.
“Yeah.”
“How far south?”
“How far you going?”
Her gaze darted to mine, and I realized her eyes weren’t bleary at all. They were focused like a well-aimed arrow.
I looked out the window.
“Running away?”
“No. Just taking a trip with no money.” I mustered up a friendly laugh. “Going to see my mom. I live with my dad, but she’s been missing me. She’s got no money, either, so I decided to surprise her.”
I smiled, pleased with my story.
“So, how come your dad didn’t pay?” She fussed with the radio, and country western blasted out loud enough to jar the windows. She spat air and twirled the knob back down until the music was a low murmur.
“We’re broke.”
“No daddy would let his girl hitchhike.”
“Mine did.”
She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re a good liar, I’ll give you that.”
I bit my upper lip. Would she report me?
“Be glad I picked you up. There are a lot of weirdoes out there.”
I nodded.
She glanced at me and cackled like some nursery rhyme witch. “I’m going about a hundred miles. Not straight south, but close enough. But once we hit Haselle City, you’re on your own.”
“A hundred miles? Thanks.” I settled into the cracked vinyl seat. Piece of cake. If my luck held, I’d be in California in no time.
Shortly after noon, my phone rang. Denny’s name flashed on the screen.
“You gonna answer that, or what?” asked the lady.
“Naw. Voicemail can pick it up.”
“Is it your daddy wondering where you are?”
“I told you he knows where I am.”
“And the girl can stick to her lies, too.” The woman checked the rearview mirror and then pulled to the side of the road. “Gotta pee.”
“What? Here? They have rest stops you know.”
“I gotta pee now.” She opened her door and got out, stretching her skinny arms above her head. She was much taller than I’d thought. She leaned into the car. “You can pee, too.”
“I’m good.”
She shrugged and wandered off behind some scraggly bushes a few yards from the road. I glanced up and down the highway, wondering what someone would think if they saw her ancient butt flapping in the breeze.
I hit voicemail on my phone and heard Denny’s voice. “Tiffany, where are you? That guy was here wanting you. When I said you weren’t home, he acted all upset. He never said anything, but I could tell. Where are you? Call me.”
I hung up and stared at the dashboard. Fresh Meat. Why had he come over? Now Denny was worried.
I called Denny, and he picked up before the first ring finished. “Tiffany? Where are you?”
“I’m with Serena. What’s the big deal anyway?”
“That guy gave me the creeps.”
“He gives me the creeps sometimes, too.”
Denny laughed. “So, you’re okay? Everything’s fine?”
“Of course it is. Dad there?”
“Yeah. You want to talk to him?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Just wondered.”
I heard a scratching noise, and then Denny’s muffled voice. “See, I told you it’d work out with Dad here.”
I inhaled musty car air that smelled like moldy bread. “Yeah, you did.”
Guilt pinged me. Deep in my gut, I knew Dad’s reformation would never last.
“You coming home for dinner?”
“Nope. I’m hanging with Serena until late. Don’t wait up.”
“Dad will be mad.”
“Let him. Gotta go, Denny. See ya.” I hung up and tucked the phone into my jacket pocket.
Chapter Fourteen
The driver’s door squawked open, and the lady dropped back into her seat. “Feel much better now.” She took a smashed roll of toilet paper from her pocket and slipped it over the gear shift. “Name’s Bertie.”
“My name’s Katie.”
“Sure it is, honey.” She pulled the car back onto the road. “Listen to your phone message?”
“Dad said to have fun on my trip.”
She threw back her head and laughed, her veins throbbing through the loose flesh on her neck.
It wasn’t long before Bertie announced, “One more mile till Haselle. Where do you want to be dropped?”
“At the exit.”
“Why not come into town with me? I got a niece who’d put you up for a day or two. I’ll tell her you’re my traveling companion.”
“So you’re a liar, too.”
“Honey, I could put you under the rug.” She chuckled and slapped her thigh. “You don’t have a chance next to me.”
I smiled. “Thanks for the offer, but I need to keep going. My mom is waiting for me.” I meant it as a joke because of course she knew I was lying, but when the words left my mouth, my throat froze up, and I held onto the armrest as sudden sadness flowed through me.
Thank God, Bertie didn’t notice.
The highway’s shoulder widened right before the exit, and she swung the car onto it and came to a stop. “Get out your phone.”
I swallowed and raised my eyebrows.
“Come on, get it out,” she ordered in her coarse voice.
I did as she asked.
“Put my niece’s number in there. You have any problems, call me.” She dictated her niece’s number, and I put it in my phone.
“Thanks.”
“You’re a fool. You know that, right?” Her gaze turned tender.
I blew out my breath. I didn’t trust myself to stay there and watch her go all soppy. Lately, my emotions were hovering way too close to the edge. I opened the door, grabbed my bag, and climbed out. My foot slipped on the loose gravel, but I righted myself and slammed the door. I hit the side of the car with my palm, and Bertie took off.
A hollow feeling filled me as I watched her
drive away — which was stupid. I didn’t even know her. Like I said, way too close to the edge. I reached into my backpack and pulled out one of the packages of toaster pastries. I peeled the foil back and took a huge bite. The dry crumbles of pastry tumbled down my throat, and I coughed and sputtered. I grabbed my bottle of water and gulped.
Better.
I gazed up and down the road. No traffic, just a quiet afternoon. Overhead, two hawks circled, floating lazily on the breeze. Across the road was a small open field butting up next to a stretch of forest. The evergreens were tall and cast a thick shadow across the stubby grass. The side of the street where I stood dipped into a small ravine full of trash — smashed cans, yellowed newspapers rustling in the breeze, and even pieces of a broken foam cooler.
I wondered if I could recycle the cans for money. My twenty dollars wasn’t going to get me far.
I started walking, and loose rock tumbled into the ditch with each step. The wind picked up, and I shivered. Should have brought warmer clothes. I’d kind of spaced on the fact that it’d take some time to get to California’s warmer climate.
I heard a car approaching from behind, so I turned and stuck out my thumb. It slowed and two middle-aged guys leered at me from the front seat. My stomach seized up, and I quickly dropped my hand. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
I held my breath until the driver gunned it and kept going. Intense relief washed over me. Maybe this was a huge mistake. Maybe Bertie was right — I was a fool. Up ahead was a sawn off log lying in the rock. I walked to it and sat. My phone dinged. A text from Denny.
When did u say u were going to be home?
I texted back. Late.
Can u come earlier?
Oh. No. I quickly texted back. What’s wrong?
Nothing.
Is Dad drinking?
No.
Then what?
I waited. He didn’t answer.
I punched his number, and he picked right up.
“Denny, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“There must be something. Is Dad there?”
“Yeah, he’s here. It’s not what you think. He’s not drinking or anything.”
“Then what?”
I heard a muffled sound and then he said, “Nothing. Sorry I texted.”
“Denny—”
“I kinda wanted you home.” He stumbled over the last words.
The Return: Death, Runaways, and Romance (Ocean Mist Book 3) Page 16