Hugs and kisses?
I squeal with excitement. “Okay, keep cool. Don’t read into it because he will hate you for a day or so when he sees you’re eighteen and at his doorstep,” I say to myself. It doesn’t take the wind out of my sails like I thought it would.
I take a picture of the bathroom and see that my body is fogged in the mirror. It’s sexy but isn’t revealing, just enough to tease the imagination. He can’t see my face or boobs, which I would never send to him until I’m eighteen.
I chew on my fingernail and debate if I want to send it.
I do.
FinleyPark: Washing off the hot, sweaty day here in Kentucky. Miss talking to you too. XOXOXO.
I grin and set the phone down on the counter and step into the shower, moaning when the hot water flows down my back. The water turns a very light beige color, the dirt and sweat finally spinning down the drain. I stand there for a minute and lean against the wall. I stare at my arms and legs, check out the nail marks on my thighs, and they look worse than they did yesterday.
I want to cry. I want to fall to my knees from fear, but I can’t.
I can’t let fear win, not yet because it’s the only thing that can stop me from running, and then I’ll just be a victim to its trigger finger.
After washing my hair with the hotel shampoo and conditioner, then my body with a plain bar of soap, I get out of the shower and wrap myself up in a cotton towel. I reach for my phone and grab nothing but air.
That’s impossible. I put it there, right?
Am I that tired?
I shrug. Probably left it on the bed. My eyes sag with exhaustion, and my bones ache for sleep. I open the bathroom door and walk out into the small hallway, turn left, and stop in my tracks when I see two men beside my bed.
Darryl.
I don’t know who the other one is.
I glance to my backpack where all the money is that I stole from Trevor and my mom. If I can get to my bag, I can grab the small handgun I purchased at a pawn shop. It was one of the first things I did before I traveled too far.
“Well, look who it is. Dixie said she didn’t know where you were, but we told that kind man downstairs that we were your uncles, and he was so damn happy to show us the way.”
“What the hell do you want?” I ask, clutching the towel tighter. I’m having deja vu. This is how it happened with Trevor.
“We hate that bitch Dixie, and we want to prove to her that no one can fuck the Harden boys and get away with it.” Darryl licks his lips and closes the space between us. His finger traces over my collarbone. “A girl like you shouldn’t travel alone. Anything could happen,” he whispers against my skin before kissing my chin. He hums in delight. “You smell good.” He wraps his hand around mine and tries to get me to drop the towel, but I hold on tight. “I wonder if that cunt smells just as good.”
I kick the bastard between the knees and dive for my backpack, but the other guy is on me just as fast. He rips the towel off me, and I scream when my wet body is exposed to the air. He squeezes my tits too hard, and tears prickle my eyes.
I refuse to be a victim.
Lifting my leg, I kick him in the face and his head snaps back, and blood leaves his mouth. Looks like he bit his tongue. Good.
Darryl drags my body toward him and fumbles with his belt and zipper while his friend sways from the hit he just received. “You bitch. I’ll show you. I’ll show Dixie. No one can take from me.”
My hand wraps around the gun in my backpack, and I aim at his head and cock it. “Me either.”
He chuckles. “You don’t have the balls,” he says, running his hand up my bare leg. “You’re shaking.”
“I don’t have the balls,” I sneer, placing the barrel between his eyes. “I have so much more.”
Darryl doesn’t believe me. He raises his hand at me, but I’m done with people thinking they can abuse me whenever they want. I pull the trigger and immediately think of witnesses and turn my gun on his friend.
Bang.
Two bullets. Two wounds. Right between the eyes.
Blood drips from the small wounds as they pin me with their lifeless stares. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” What did I do? I gather my dirty clothes, shove them in my bag with the gun, and then I get dressed in the only clean pair of panties I have. I shove my legs through a pair of jeans and throw on another tank top. I have to hurry. Gunshots aren’t quiet. I need to stay calm. I can’t lose my shit right now. I just killed two men.
Fuck.
Three men including Trevor.
My hair is sticking to my shoulders, and I throw it up in a messy bun and step over their dead bodies. Before I leave, I decide to take. They were going to take from me, right? It’s only fair. I grab their wallets, take their money, and wipe my prints off everything. I look for my phone and see it next to the bed, turned off. I grab it and tuck it in the pocket on the side of my bag.
“That will the last time you underestimate a woman,” I say, stuffing their money into my back pocket.
Without another thought, I run out the door and put this damn western town behind me. I wonder if every place I go is
