by Madeline Fay
I completely understand being lonely even when you're in a crowded room, all you have is you and yourself. The only difference is this guy chose to get in this truck and live his life to the happiest he can… me not so much. Choices get taken away. It’s in that moment when I notice that I have a choice right the fuck now. I’m out in the open, not under Payne's thumb with watchful eyes. I may be on the run but it’s my decision. I’m just going to have to be careful to not end up back in that monster's fingertips.
“Totally. Hey, what’s your name?” I’m going to remember this trucker who helped give me an escape even if he didn’t know it. He’s really one of the good ones out there.
“Adam. What about you, little lady?” He draws out with a chuckle, tipping his hat at me in a cheesy manner.
This I have to be careful with because I haven’t decided what to do about my name. It’s a way to come up with something new but it’s just easier to go by Tillie. I’ll just have to give a different last name.
“Tillie Jones. Nice to meet ya, trucker Adam.” I offer a hesitant smile which only causes him to practically beam at me and stick out his hand for me to shake.
I eye his hand like it might somehow bite me and decide this guy can’t possibly hurt me more than I already have been. My hand clasps his with a small shake before I quickly let go and fiddle with the radio to offer a distraction because that small touch is freaking me out. A simple, common touch shouldn’t scare people but it does for me. I’ll never be normal. The rest of the ride is quiet except for the random questions he asks with the radio softly playing in the background. My shoulders gradually relax somewhat but it’s only the beginning of my journey and I’m automatically taught to trust no one.
Cruz
“You fucking find her. I want all of you fucking cunts out there looking for her! Ears and eyes, am I fucking clear?” Payne shouts angrily, dismissing Church as he slams his fist on the table when he gets mumbled affirmatives in return.
Everyone scatters out of the room with their tails tucked between their legs but I stay behind, propping my feet up on the ledge of the table, my hands clasped together behind my head. I can handle Payne’s violent outbursts of anger because my own is nothing compared to his… it’s worse. I feel absolutely nothing inside, it’s a fucking dark, empty echo, and my obsession is the one girl who doesn’t want me. I thought claiming that cunt would keep her in her place, but she just had to get out of line and run off. But, no worries. I love a good hunt and she’s at the top of my list. I can hardly wait to break her in once I find her.
“Cruz, I want you to go find her, and if you return with her… She’s yours, boy. I don’t fucking care if you slit her throat while fucking her. Tillie will learn who is in command right under my boot for one last time. But first, I need you to do something for me.”
I tilt my head, staring at him, and wonder why I don’t feel an ounce of compassion for his daughter. Being abandoned at a young age by their birth parents would screw anyone up in the head but that’s the thing, I was already messed up since birth. Growing up, I once saw an animal and had a desire to cut it up just to see how its insides worked. The words sociopath repeated from multiple doctors still lingers, the main reason my parents left me at the park and never returned, but Payne took one look at me and gazed past the chemically imbalanced part of my brain. He gave me a home where I could run the city red and didn’t blink once, especially when I became obsessed with his daughter. I’ve waited patiently, followed his orders, fucked his daughter when he allowed it and I’m finally close to taking what’s been mine from day one. Tillie will be mine even if I have to kill her and claim the last bit of light leaving her eyes, I’ll even have her soul because she can’t escape me. So, I’ll fucking do anything and it’s finally my time to shine.
“What do you need from me?” I nick my finger with my knife, watching the trail of red liquid slide out of the cut, and can picture clear as day when I carved up Tillie’s back with my initials, her blood running freely onto my hands.
“I have a rat and I need you to sniff them out. You’ll find the girl faster. It’s only a matter of time.” Payne grins slowly, stroking his beard as he stares out the window overlooking the junkyard. “No one runs from me, no one.”
Tillie
“Well here we are, um... be careful out there,” Adam says, taking his cap off again nervously and glancing at my breasts as if he can’t help himself, his throat bobbing as he turns off the semi in the bus stop parking lot.
God, this poor guy. I may not have much to give but I have something most girls don’t. The key to seduction and knowing how to use my body.
“Adam, get in the back cab,” I tell him in a low voice, watching his eyes snap up to mine in confusion.
“W-what?” He stutters out and I can already see the tent growing in his pants, it’s easier to do this after seeing he’s not packing a monster in those jeans.
“This is my thank you.” He shakes his head, about to say no until I grab the hem of my tank top and throw it on the dashboard in one swoop.
He freezes in his seat, eyes widening as he stares at my breasts again like they are the answer to the universe. Men are all the same, give them a little love and they’re putty in your hands.
“Adam...” His eyes meet mine. “Back. Seat. Now.” My voice comes out husky to get him moving and I’m about to lose my nerve when he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt, cursing when it gets tangled in his arm before dodging into the back between the seats.
With a deep breath, I give myself a pep talk
You control your body. This is your decision. Give this guy a memory for his lonely nights on the road because he’s helped you when most wouldn’t.
My body moves without really thinking too much about it, and before I know it, I’m climbing onto this trucker’s lap who is already panting. This isn’t going to take long and I’m a damn good professional at giving lap dances. I’ve been in this seat plenty of times even when I didn’t want to. Doris taught me all I needed to know to drive a man crazy with lust and how fast it takes to get him off. God that’s so pathetic, what an accomplishment I’ve achieved in life. Go me, giving lap dances like a champ. Adam starts to raise his hands to place on my body but I stop him before he can touch me.
“I’m going to rock your world, give you a memory to look back on when you're feeling lonely, and for helping a girl on the side of the road without asking for anything in return. Just don’t touch me and I’ll do all the work okay?”
He looks like he’s about to interject but my hands are unclasping my bra in the front as my legs squeeze the outside of his thighs from my straddle position. His attention focuses on my naked breasts and his breath fans my collarbone as his hands drop down to his sides limply. I look behind his shoulder at the wall as I plant my ass on his denim covered dick, grinding down against him.
“Sweet Jesus,” he mutters in a daze when my hips roll over him again and again, rubbing against his dick in the right way that will have him blowing his load in seconds.
He needs to come now because my vision is getting grey around the edges, putting me in a place I’d rather not be.
Take it slut. God, look at her loving my dick, can’t get enough of her cunt being filled with my jizz. Say please, Tillie, and tell us that you want to get fucked by all of us.
Not now.
Every single time I’ve had to do this, climbing onto a stranger’s lap just so they can experience pleasure from my body that doesn’t want to do this, that night always resurfaces like a wave crashing on the sand, it just keeps coming back. I can feel their phantom hands on my body as they defile me over and over again.
My body moves on autopilot, growing wet between my legs as I rub my clothed pussy right over his dick despite not really feeling anything inside. It’s like instinct to feel what the body craves but can’t have because our minds fuck us up in the end. Needing this to be over, I drag my heated core right over him just as I lean back, my back arched u
ntil I’m staring at the grey fabric of the truck ceiling. I play with my nipples in front of his face to give him the perfect view. He’ll be done soon. Would it be wrong of me if I started laughing when I feel him spasming under me and hearing him let out a whimper as he came? It’s almost unfair how I can’t do that, just let go and feel something that makes you cry out in pleasure inside instead of screaming in pain.
I’m off of his lap before he’s even finished and skip my bra altogether as I shove my tank top over my head while he sits there in a daze. I unzip my bag and grab a hoodie to cover my body with the hood hiding my face from any cameras in the parking lot. The walls start closing in on me as I reach for the handle to get out of the truck. My world is focusing back into color but tortuous memories creep along the edges of my mind.
“Wait! Who are you, Tillie Jones?” He pants out in a desperate tone.
“I’m the devil’s spawn baby and it’s best for you to try to forget my face because it could lead you to trouble one day.” A small warning for him because if anyone finds out he helped me… I can’t think that way right now.
“As if I’d forget you,” he whispers with a small laugh of disbelief.
I glance over my shoulder at him, smiling like I have a secret, taking in his pink cheeks under his beard along with his disheveled hair and the wet stain on his jeans before hopping down from the passenger door.
“I didn’t say forget me, you can remember my body for the lonely nights on the road. Bye, Trucker Adam.” I wink at him and take off running towards the bus station before he can say anything else.
I controlled that moment in the back of the cab… my decision and my fucking body to do as it pleases.
It’s an awakening that sparks something deep inside of me that I’m scared to look too closely at. It’s still scary as hell because what limits does my own body have when I decide that I’m taking the reins?
The sliding glass doors of the bus station offer a blast of cold air on my heated skin, clearing my head as I scan the lobby for anyone dressed in a leather cut. I mean it’s not just leather I have to be on the lookout for because their sources extend farther than just the club. You have the buyers that pay a pretty penny for the best drugs, the other clubs that are known in other countries, or the worst you really have to look for is the people that fear them. People do crazy things when their heart races from the unknown and that could be my downfall for being caught. Luckily it’s pretty empty, the blue and white checkered floors are spotless which tells me not much traffic comes through here. The clerk and the one sleeping homeless man on the bench are the only people I see. Most people travel by plane or car these days, no one wants to sit next to a stranger for countless hours on a bus.
I approach the counter, my head down and my hood covering my face from the camera in the corner of the room behind the clerk who hasn’t bothered to look up from her slouched position in her chair with her feet kicked up on the counter. She blows a piece of pink bubble gum, snapping the bubble when she finally lazily looks up at me with a bored expression on her face.
“Um, one ticket to New York, one way, please.” My voice comes out as a hushed whisper.
She pops another bubble, the noise making me cringe in the quiet space. Rolling her eyes, she plops her feet down as she enters the information into her computer to print me a ticket. The piercing on her face reflects off the low lighting as she glances back at me with a raised brow as my ticket slowly prints before sliding it across on the counter towards me. I dig money out of my bag and hand it over without a word. She’s about to pick up her cell phone, going back to ignoring me but I clear my throat which only has her sighing in annoyance.
“Yeah, anything else?” She drawls with another loud bubble pop.
“One way ticket to Los Angeles too.” My hand shakes as I start to hand her more money because this chick is staring at me with a curious expression now.
“You sure about that?” She questions, looking me up and down before her gaze stops on the bloodstain seeping through my pants from the bike crash.
She looks like she’s about to call the cops or something by the way she keeps looking at me and my disheveled appearance then back to her phone. Shit. I can’t have that because I’m pretty sure the cops around here are in Payne’s pockets.
“Listen, I need to disappear,” I tell her quickly, thinking of what Doris told me, about saying I’m running from a husband but I don’t think she’ll believe me. “I’m trying to get away from an abusive ex before it’s too late for me.” I’m really not lying too much because Cruz is an ex who deserves to die so I think I’m selling this to her.
She sits up straight, quickly prints my new ticket, and slips my cash back to me.
“Keep it, and you're doing the right thing. Us girls have to look out for each other, fuck those fuck boys. Girl power.” She holds her fist out for me to bump which I do hesitantly and I’m betting this chick goes to all the women's rights marches.
“Thanks.” She nods once and I plaster on a fake smile before turning around to get the heck out of there, really hoping she doesn’t think calling the police is the best option.
Once again, the Nevada heat absorbs into my skin the moment I step outside to find my bus. My ticket says it is departing at one, that’s in thirty minutes. It’s a little nerve wracking because I have a feeling Payne and Cruz are going to be tearing this city apart very soon looking for me. That’s what someone who owns an object does, you don’t stop looking until it’s found.
Finding bus number twenty-nine, I quicken my pace and climb the stairs with my hair covering my face, the bus driver barely glancing at me. Empty seats except for three are occupied which is a blessing. The fewer people that see me, the less likely I’ll be remembered. Taking a seat at the back of the bus, I fall against the cushioned fabric, a slow drawn out sigh escaping me. I’ve made it this far, only a little more to go. Reaching into my jeans’ pocket, I gaze at the address, blinking with disbelief at fourteen ninety Monica Beverly Hills, California. Who the hell is this person Doris is sending me to? The land of the rich and privileged, how does she know anyone that would live there? Am I doing the right thing? If Cruz finds me, I don’t think I’ll ever see the light of day again and Tillie will just be a name someone forgets about after she disappears into the ring of human trafficking or six feet under ground.
Please God let this be the right choice because if not, I’m as good as dead.
At least the purple dye in my hair isn’t a big dramatic change, I mean it stands out pretty well as I turn my head side to side in the mirror after I dried it under the bathroom hand dryer. It kind of blends in with my long dark hair, never trust a box of hair dye. At least I made it in one piece even if the whole time I was a mess at each bus stop with people coming and going. Two days flew by on the bus and I’m finally in Los Angeles, I can hardly believe it… I’ve never even been outside of Nevada. I’m beyond tired, exhausted to a new level, and feeling kind of gross being stuck in a tin can for hours. The dye was a cheap one and it’s making my scalp itch but at least it does the job at making me look somewhat different. Bracing my hands against the sink, I take a deep breath before heading out into the unknown. Pushing past the automatic doors, I stand on the curb waiting for a taxi to pass and hope no one asks any questions about why a girl is traveling in the middle of the night by herself. Just as my luck would have it, rain starts to pour down like the floodgates opened and I’m soaked in seconds. So much for drying my hair, the top of my shirt is now stained a light purple as the dye continues to wash off.
Squinting, I wave down a taxi just as it turns the corner before halting in front of me. I get into the cab, and give the taxi driver the address, before I know it I’m heading right towards a stranger’s house that’s supposed to help me. City lights pass by in a blur, people walking in groups as they enter a club or restaurant while laughing in a carefree way and I can’t help but wonder what that feels like. Palm trees line on either side of the stree
ts and rolling down the window, you can practically taste the salt from the ocean in the air. It’s a busy city and the closer I get to Beverly Hills, the rich start to come out of the woodwork with their flashy sports cars, and people wearing designer brands like it’s attached to their bodies at birth. My own clothes scream outcast, sticking out like a sore thumb with too short shorts that shape to my butt like a warm hug and a light sweater that’s stained and a little bit see through with the mesh material, a sliver of my stomach showing, and my tattoos on display. Black combat boots complete my look. You may escape the biker atmosphere but you can’t take the biker out of the girl. Doesn’t help that my clothes are sticking to my body from the rain and my hair is wet, with water dripping down my back, making me shiver in the back seat. I’m anxious to get out of the cab, I catch the driver glancing back every few seconds, his mirror angled towards my breasts.
Sometimes I really hate men. I just want to be that bad bitch who takes what she wants, when she wants it, instead of living in fear that someone will take it without permission. He starts to slow down with his blinker on as he pulls onto a street lined with mansions that have long, curving driveways on hills that end at the road with gates to keep the riff-raff out.
I can already tell I don’t belong here. What am I doing?
The driver comes to a stop at a dead end with the last house on the street, a winding private driveway leading to a mansion that sits on a hill. An iron gate with a capital R branded on the front blocks most of the view and rows of tall palm trees on either side.