I stood by the road, eyes darting. Left, right. Barefoot.
Shit.
I should've kept the heels, but the thought of a broken ankle, of stumbling, of being dragged back, made my stomach clench. I'd take the blisters anyday. I'd run for hours, deep into the woods, only to end up here. An isolated road and a little store staring back at me.
A grey building, two fuel pumps out front. A single sign buzzed: MARK & SUE'S. This is it. Lights, people, and, hopefully, a phone. A jolt went through me, not of fear, but of something I'd almost stopped feeling a long time ago. Hope. For a new life. A new world away from everything.
I waited, heart hammering against my ribs, as a few cars passed. Drivers glanced from their windows, their eyes lingering. They had to be wondering, a barefoot woman, my hair probably didn't help either. I probably looked like I'd escaped the psych ward.
But they didn't stop. Just a glance, then they were gone.
I was back in Francisco's office, holding a wine bottle, listening to him and his advisor argue. They needed to hide weapons. The advisor said burying them was the best idea, because even if city folks saw them digging, they wouldn't think anything of it. That's how people are there. If it's not their business, they don't get involved. They don't see a thing.
I didn't get it then. But now, standing here, I finally saw it.
And maybe it was good they didn't stop. Someone asking questions, getting involved... that was a risk I couldn't take.
When the road was clear, I crossed, my pace a rushed limp. It felt like I was walking on hot coal. I looked at the darkening sky. It was getting late. I needed help, a plan, something, before I found myself in trouble again.
I moved closer to the store. A few cars were parked near it. A couple of people came out, faces glued to their phone screens, didn't even look up. Kind of loved it. This town had a real mind your own business energy, and even if they saw me, the cars hid my feet, and from the waist up, I probably just looked tired.
I limped closer to a beat-up sedan just as a man, his phone pressed to his ear, stepped out. He was middle-aged with thinning brown hair and a permanent-looking frown line between his brows. "I don't care what he said, just get it done!" he snapped into the phone. Then his eyes, all annoyed, landed on me.
Ah, shit. I was probably standing by his car.
I tried to limp away, but his gaze followed me, furrowing. His eyes dropped, tracing the path from my face down to my bloody feet. "Shit," he cursed, the phone conversation completely forgotten. He took a step toward me, and I flinched back, my whole body tensing to run if I had to. "It's alright, I just-" he started, but I was already moving, hauling myself away from the car, every step sending a jolt of pain up my feet.
He stopped talking. Just stared after me, blinking, like his brain had short-circuited. Then he turned and called out to someone, "Hey-Sue, get over here!"
His shout echoed. The door flew open a moment later, and a middle-aged woman in an apron burst out. "What, Mark?" she snapped, her hands on her hips. Then her gaze followed his and landed on me.
She looked me over for a few long seconds, and then a customer-service smile formed on her face. She thought I was a customer. A weird looking one, probably.
"We're closed already, honey," she said, her voice sweet as pie. "Been closed for ten minutes."
I just blinked, my throat locked tight. "It's... all good," I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. I glanced between them, took another limping step away. I wasn't moving fast enough for her. She stared, impatient, her eyes flicking from me to Mark and back. "Like I said. We're closed."
I was trying to leave. I wanted to snap back, but it just came out a stutter. "I just... I need-"
Mark cut me off, "Sue, for God's sake," he said. "Look down."
Sue's annoyed eyes dropped from my face. They traveled down my dress and landed on my feet. Her expression shifted from impatience to confusion.
"Lord have mercy," she breathed out. "Why are your feet like that?"
The million-dollar question. I could tell them the truth. That I wasn't just running away, I was running from a family that ran this city. But they looked like the kind of people who wouldn't want to be involved. Let's be honest, who would? It wasn't worth the trouble. My mind was blank. I just stood there, frozen, lile an idiot.
Mark looked down at her, whispering, but I caught it. "Looks like she got roughed up by some boyfriend."
Sue looked me up and down, responding to him but speaking to me. "Looks just fine to me," she scoffed. "Good hair. Good skin." Her gaze moved over my dress, and her eyebrows shot up. "That's... that's a Valentino. The spring collection."
She looked back at my face, her lips pursed. "Just a spoiled rich brat," she murmured, but it was meant to be heard.
Spoiled rich brat. Those words played in my mind.
Well. I could work with that.
My shoulders slumped, and I forced a single, fake tear that traced a path through my cheek. God, I was getting scarily good at this. I looked down, playing with the hem of my dress, my voice softening into a whisper.
"I should... I should have listened," I whispered. "He... he ran off. Took my shoes, my phone... everything. Just left me out here." I let my voice crack a little. "Been walking for hours."
I looked up, meeting Sue's eyes. They weren't softening, if anything, she looked more annoyed. I doubled down. "My daddy... he's probably got security looking for me by now." My husbands...definitely are. The lie wasn't far from the truth at all. A shiver slid down my spine. Don't think about it. I shook my head slightly. "I shouldn't have... I just... I just want to go home."
I saw it then, the shift. Their faces brightened. I could almost see the dollar bills swirling above their heads. Bingo.
Sue's face melted from a frown into smile. She moved forward, her steps quick, and grasped my elbow. "Oh, you poor thing," she cooed. "Out here all alone. Are you hungry, sweetheart? Have you eaten anything at all?"
The lie came smoothly, straight through my teeth. "The only thing I had today was the lunch our chef made before I... left."
The word chef worked like a magic spell. "Come on, darling, let's get you inside." She tugged me toward the store. The bell on the door jingled. Inside was a diner, a few tables, a counter, a muted news channel on a flat-screen. She steered me past the bar and toward a table at the far end.
Mark followed, his eyes scanning the floor. "Tracked blood all over the damn place," he cursed.
My gaze dropped to where he was looking, and I saw it, a path of red stains following my every step. Before I could get the words out, Sue cut me off with a wave of her hand. "Oh, hush. A little cleaning never hurt anyone. glared at Mark, her hands back on her hips. "It'll wash."
Mark just shrugged, dismissing her and the entire situation with a grunt. "I'm gonna go get the money back from those fuckers. Tired of their postponing shit." He didn't wait for a response, just turned and stalked out.
Sue watched him go, her eyes narrowed to slits. "Good for nothin'," she murmured, and that gaze swung back to me.
The fake smile was back on, straining the corners of her eyes. I could feel the tense energy coming off her, screaming that she didn't want to be here, helping some weird, bleeding woman. But she couldn't miss the opportunity.
She'd decided I came from somewhere rich, and maybe, maybe she was a little bit right. Maybe her judgement was sharper than I'd given her credit for. Because in a way that felt like a shitty joke, I did. And she could sense it, the chance to get something out of me.
"I'm gonna fix you a hot plate. Get some hot food in you." The false cheer in her voice was so strained it took everything I had not to flinch.
She didn't wait for a reply, just disappeared through the swinging kitchen door.
Alone, I sat playing with my fingers, my gaze drifting back to the window. It was fully dark now. I would have to stay with her, even if she saw me as a walking paycheck. Staying was my only option.
I had nowhere else to go. Going back was a death sentence. I didn't know this city or this area, had no idea where to find a shelter or who to ask for help. I couldn't go to the police, i knew enough to know they worked hand in hand with them. They'd find me in an instant and drag me back. A shiver ran down my spine. Who knew what they would do to me.
By morning, I would run again. I would figure it out, I always did. But right now, I needed her.
She stepped out from the kitchen with a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. She set the plate down in front of me. "There you go. Get that into you," she said, her tone strained.
My gaze dropped to the food. A part of me, the part that had been running for hours, screamed for it. But my stomach had gone numb from the stress. Still, I had to eat. I needed the energy. Tomorrow, I would run again. I forced a few bites. Bile rose with every mouthful, but I pushed through, shoving more in, forcing it down until the bowl was empty and only crumbs were left.
From across the counter, Sue's voice cut through the silence. "You want some water?"
My gaze snapped to her. She had finished with the till and was now packing
"Yes," I rasped.
She nodded and moved back into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a tall glass of water. She thrust it toward me, barely looking at me, her eyes darting toward the window as if expecting someone. "Hurry up and drink it. We don't have all night."
I took the glass, bringing it to my lips and gulped the water down, the cold liquid a shock to my system. Gosh, that's all i needed. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as she took the empty glass.
While she was in the kitchen, rinsing the glass, her voice called out, "You'll sleep at my place for the night. Then we'll call your dad first thing in the morning. Get this all sorted out."
I froze. Part of me was just happy to have a safe, warm place to sleep. And she didn't feel creepy, greedy, sure. Calculating. But she didn't give off those "I'll murder you" vibes.
But the rest of the plan? I wouldn't be sticking around for anyone to call. I barely knew any numbers anyway. I would sleep for the night and be out by the time the sun had risen. I was used to it. Back in the Rivera mansion, I woke up as early as 4 a.m. to get all the cleaning and cooking done before everyone woke up. This time, it would be to run deeper into my freedom.
So I nodded, a slow, full-of-shit motion, even though she couldn't see me.
Before I could stand up, she returned, clicking her tongue. "Stop. Damn it, I forgot. Can't have you messing up my floors again." She grabbed her keys from her bag, her face stretched in annoyance. She really, really needed the money if she was going through all this trouble.
She disappeared into the kitchen and came out holding a pair of slippers. The bottoms were thin and cracked, and the pink uppers were matted and stained. I grimaced. Better than nothing.
"Here. Put these on."
I looked from the slippers to my feet, which were a raw, bloody mess of blisters. The thought of putting anything on them made me feel nauseous. Plus, putting those on, I was definitely going to catch an infection.
But I had no choice. No choice at all.
So I reached for them.
Slipping my feet into them was torture. It felt like sandpaper against my open wounds. A sharp, stinging sensation shot up my legs. I gasped, my eyes watering as I forced my heels all the way in. The slippers were a size too small, squeezing my swollen feet and making everything ten times worse.
She had to be getting back at me for all the trouble I caused.
When I was done, standing on what felt like needles, she gave a curt nod. She walked towards the front door, her keys jangling. I followed behind, trying to make my pace quick, almost there, just a few more steps, you can do this,but all I could manage was a slow, agonizing limp.
She reached the door long before I did and stood there, one hand on her hip, the other holding the keys. Her foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the floor. She stared at me as I hobbled across the store, the distance feeling like a mile.
I'm trying here, I held back a scoff, biting down my frustration.
I finally reached the door, and she yanked it open. A blast of cold night wind hit me, whipping my hair loose from the messy bun. The strands flew into my face, blinding the shit out of me. I tucked them behind my ears, hugging my arms around my chest. Shit. It was cold.
Sue locked the door behind us. The parking lot was now empty, except for one car. One headlight was cracked, and the bumper was held on with what looked like duct tape. It looked as tired and worn out as I felt.
She marched toward it. I tried to quicken my pace, but it only made the pain in my feet more unbearable. She reached the car and unlocked her door.
I was still a few feet away, limping toward the passenger side, when she got in and slammed her door shut. Such a sweetheart. The sound echoed in the silent lot. I reached the car, my breath coming in ragged pants, and fumbled for the handle.
I pulled the door open and looked inside. The floor mats were caked with dried mud, and it smelled like a mixture of cigarettes and coffee. I lowered myself into the passenger seat.
I reached for the seatbelt, my fingers fumbling with the clasp, but she was already shifting the car into reverse and hitting the gas-Shit The sudden lurch sent me stumbling against the door, my shoulder hitting the window with a dull thud. A cry of pain and surprise escaped my lips before I could stop it. She didn't even glance over.
First bruised feet, now a broken shoulder. I glared at her, biting back a curse. Lunatic.
"Seatbelt," she muttered, like she didn't almost murder me, her eyes fixed ahead as she pulled onto the road.
She drove, and this time, I didn't look out the window. I tried to keep my eyes open, to note the turns and memorize the path to her house, but I was so tired. All I need is a few minutes, I thought, just a few minutes. My eyelids grew heavy, fluttering shut.
***********************************************
Hope yall enjoyed the chapter!❤️ If you can't wait, you can get early access to the next one on my Patreon, link in the bio.