He turned to me. He didn’t look like my handsome, sweet, dreamer Billy anymore. I didn’t even know this man. “You run, I’ll catch you. Make no mistake.”
I nodded, I believed him. Still, I was going to try.
He got me the key and I went to the bathroom. There were other cars at the station and the people in them stared at me but gave us a wide berth.
I looked at my face in the cloudy, pocked, gas station mirror. There was blood running down my left cheek and it was smeared along my face. The cuts weren’t bad but they were there bleeding a lot and the bruising and swelling had already started.
I felt my nostrils burn and I took deep breaths to stop the tears from coming. Tears would leak energy and I needed everything I could get. I forced back the tears, washed my face and stayed in the bathroom as long as I could, hoping someone would call the cops. Hoping I’d hear sirens.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Get your ass out here!” Billy yelled.
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I pushed open the door with all my strength and ran, straight by Billy, hell bent for leather, no destination in mind, I just wanted attention, to get someone to help. So I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs.
I saw the surprised stares turn to shock, people filling up their cars or waiting in them, stunned immobile at the sight of Billy chasing me. Then, he caught me, dragged me kicking and screaming to the car, shoved me in the driver’s side, got in with me and, somehow, we rocketed from the station even as I was fighting him.
I saw a man run toward us, but he was too late.
Billy drove wild, fighting me as he drove. I didn’t care if we wrecked, I’d take the damage of an accident to my body far easier than I’d take any more damage from Billy.
He pulled over and turned, giving me his full attention.
He hit me again, so hard, my mind went blank and I slowed to let my brain settle. When I blinked away the unconsciousness that wanted to envelope me, Billy was tying my hands together with nylon rope.
When he was done, he yanked me across the emergency brake, until his face was an inch from mine. “You gotta learn, Roxie. You gotta learn.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about and didn’t want to know.
“You’ll learn,” he finished, then he pushed me off him, put the car in gear and we took off.
* * * * *
He drove erratically. I thought we were heading toward Chicago, going east, but then he went south. We stopped at another gas station over the Kansas border. He chose one that was desolate, no cars this time, just the attendant. He tied my hands to the steering wheel when he went in to pay. He brought back cheese puffs and a diet drink and I ate with my hands tied. I noticed his wallet was full of bills, bulging with them and I was too scared of what was happening to be even more scared of how he got so much money.
I didn’t think of anything, kept my mind blank, tried to sleep so my body would be rested, ready to fight, but sleep wouldn’t come.
We headed into Kansas, went west for a while and, deep in the night, stopped at a hotel. Billy tied me to the steering wheel again while he checked in. He didn’t untie my hands all night, even stood over me while I went to the bathroom.
Lying on my back in the bed, Billy pressed into me, half his body over me, keeping me from breathing, my ribs still hurt and they hurt worse with his arm tight around me.
He whispered, “You can’t leave me Roxie. You’re the only good thing I got. You’re the only good thing I ever had. I can’t lose you. Don’t you understand?”
I didn’t understand.
“Billy, you have to talk to me. What are you running from?”
“We gotta stay clear for a few days. I struck it this time, Roxie. Right before you left, I hit it. Now, I can take you to France. Now, we can go anywhere. We can go to Italy, Bermuda. You can live in a bikini.”
“Billy,” I whispered. “What have you done?”
“It’s all for you, Roxie. Everything I’ve done is for you.”
I felt the tears crawl up my throat, my nostrils quivering but I fought it down and laid there, awake all night, Billy sleeping beside me.
I was lying in the bed I’d made for myself.
* * * * *
The next day, more of the same, the only difference was I didn’t try to escape and I got a tube of chips with my diet drink.
We headed back east, then north, cut back and then south, then north again.
We didn’t talk, Billy was beyond fast-talk now, even Billy was smart enough to know he’d have to talk three miles a minute to bring me back around.
We were at the Nebraska-Iowa state line when the clock on the dash turned to midnight and we stopped at a filthy motel.
The manager looked at me tied to the steering wheel while Billy checked in. I didn’t make a move, didn’t try to communicate my dilemma. Thoughts of escape were gone, for now.
Like my Mom said, I needed to be smart. To escape, I needed people, I needed a place to run, a police station, a fire station, a hospital, an all-night café. Something. I had to bide my time, not fight; maybe make Billy think I’d given up. Billy would have to fuck up somewhere along the line and I was waiting.
That’s when I’d go, escape, find my way home, get my stuff from Annette and disappear. I’d have to leave the country, maybe go to Canada, Mexico, disappear and stay gone for a good long time, maybe forever.
I was my generation’s Uncle Tex; I had to cut myself loose. I understood Uncle Tex now. I understood how it felt to feel dirty even though it wasn’t you who jumped in the mud, instead, you’d been pushed, but you were soiled all the same.
I hadn’t taken a shower in three days, my hair was filthy, my face and body still ached from the fight, especially my ribs and I feared they’d been cracked when Billy kicked me. I hurt from being cooped in the car, my hands hurt from being tied together for two days. I lay in bed, Billy beside me again, and my thoughts drifted to Hank.
I’d succeeded in not thinking about him until then, but I was tired, so fucking tired, I couldn’t push the thoughts away.
I wondered what he thought when he came home from his run, thinking to find me asleep in his bed, to wake me, shower with me, take me to breakfast, like normal people, like a couple starting out. Instead, he came home to find his house wide open and trashed, me gone.
One date and he said there was a him and me. He was so sure about it. He was so fucking sure he’d made me sure. For twenty minutes, I’d felt good and clean and free.
God, how I wished that could be true.
It didn’t last, couldn’t last.
Here I was, unshowered, in a stinking motel, on the run with a criminal, my pretty, designer clothes dirty, no longer my armor. Hank would take one look at me and wonder what in the hell he was thinking. I wasn’t what he thought I was. I didn’t even know who I was anymore.
I felt a single tear slide down the side of my eye when the door splintered and crashed open.
Billy jerked awake and came away from the bed and I rolled the other way as the lights went on.
“Fuck, Roxie, run!” Billy shouted but I had no time to run. There was nowhere to run. They were in the door, cutting off the only escape route.
There were two men, with guns. I felt momentarily stunned. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a gun, except in a holster carried by a uniformed cop.
Billy charged, I shook free of my daze and tried to make a dash. One went after Billy but I didn’t see what happened because the other one came after me.
Thanks to my fucking, shithead, so-very ex-boyfriend, I was hindered by tied hands, wrists rubbed raw by being bound for two days.
I fought all the same.
He easily overpowered me and forced me into the bathroom, cuffing me by one wrist to the pipes under the sink. I was shouting and he shoved his handkerchief in my mouth, tying it in place with a cord he ripped from a lamp in the bedroom. This all took him less than a minute, he
was a practiced hand at this crap.
Then, without looking back, he entered the grunting, scary scuffle I heard in the other room. No one outside heard me scream before I was gagged, or, it was the kind of place where they ignored it. The scuffle stopped or moved but one way or another, the bedroom went completely silent.
I sat under the sink, tense and waiting but minutes ticked by and no one came back for me.
* * * * *
So, there I was, my worst fears had come true.
Billy’s stink had settled on me.
I could even smell it.
Part Two
Chapter Nine
A High Price
I heard movement in the other room, barely, just a rustling.
I knew someone was there, maybe someone who wasn’t supposed to be there.
I kept quiet and held my breath, unsure of what to do. I didn’t want the men who took Billy to come back and get me. I didn’t think they were good people who were there to explain that Billy had won some magazine’s million dollar sweepstakes and just got really carried away with the excitement of it all.
I saw the shadow when it hit the doorway and, without thinking, I scooted further under the sink.
“Fuck,” the shadow muttered.
Then the bathroom light flipped on.
Vance stood there; Lee’s bounty hunter.
I blinked up at him, my eyes adjusting to the light.
It immediately hit me that Vance was a different sort than Hank. He didn’t have control over his reactions, maybe didn’t want to and he didn’t try to hide his expression from me. Vance’s dark eyes were blazing angry and his mouth was tight.
He pulled some keys from his pocket and crouched beside me, his eyes never leaving my face even as his hands went to the cuffs. He freed me from the sink within a few seconds, then he went to work on the cord wrapped around my head, all the while looking at me.
After he pulled the handkerchief gently from my mouth, his hands went back to mine and he worked on the nylon rope while he asked, “You okay?”
I wanted to laugh and ask him how many girls he found beaten up, gagged and cuffed to sinks in sleazy hotels that answered, “Yeah, sure, peachy.” But it was anything but funny and both Vance and I knew it.
Instead, I said, “I think he cracked a couple ribs.”
His eyes flared and, again, he didn’t try to hide it.
He helped me up from the floor, helped me out of the hotel and then helped me into a black Ford Explorer.
Once I was inside, he skirted the car and swung behind the wheel. Without delay, he started the truck, hitting some buttons on the sat nav after he hit a button on the phone, making it ring inside the truck.
“Yeah?” A voice answered before the second ring.
“Got her, do you have a lock on my position?” Vance asked, still fiddling with the sat nav.
“Yeah. She okay?” the voice asked back.
“I need the nearest hospital,” Vance replied.
Silence.
Then, “Fuck.”
Vance stopped fiddling with the sat nav, reversed the Explorer out of the spot and started driving.
“When you hear the zip code, enter it into the sat nav. Can you do that?” Vance asked me.
“Yes,” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “Yes,” I said louder.
The male voice gave me the zip code and I entered it. After I did that, Vance took over, pressing a couple of buttons. The navigation system calculated the route and Vance swung a uey.
Then the male voice said, “What can I report to Hank and Tex?”
“She’s safe. Let me get her checked out. Then I’ll call in and you can let Lee decide.”
“I’m here,” another voice said, a voice I knew was Lee’s.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window, humiliation burning deep into my already exposed mental wounds. I didn’t know what time it was but it had to be early in the morning, three o’clock, maybe four and Lee and his army were at work for me.
“Hank there?” Vance asked.
My already tense body went rock solid.
“He’s not in the surveillance room, he’s in my office. Bobby’s getting him now,” Lee replied.
I let out a breath.
“Tex?” Vance asked.
“Tex is systematically tearing apart the weight machine in the down room.”
I almost smiled at that. Almost.
Vance started speaking, “Roxie’s been beaten but looks okay, she thinks he cracked her ribs. I’m gonna get her checked out. Then we’ll head home.”
I wrapped my arms around my middle and kept my head against the window. I wanted the conversation to end before Bobby got Hank from Lee’s office and he made it to the surveillance room. I didn’t know how long I had.
“You get Flynn?” Lee asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“No one was there, she was alone and cuffed to the sink in the bathroom. Signs of a struggle. I didn’t ask questions, just got her out.” His eyes moved to me, “That struggle yours?”
I shook my head.
“Someone came and took Billy, cuffed me to the sink,” I said quietly.
“Hear that?” Vance asked.
“I’ll get Ike on it,” Lee said.
I closed my eyes again. So much for not dragging Lee and his boys into this.
“Roxie?” Lee called my name and I sat there and didn’t answer. I knew this was better than being on my wild ride with Billy, but somehow, right then, it felt worse.
“Roxie,” Lee said again, his voice softer.
“Yes?” I replied, responding to his tone and to Vance’s coaxing squeeze on my knee.
“Talk to Vance, tell him everything that happened. Everything you can remember. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“Vance, I want regular call-ins.”
“Roger that,” Vance replied.
“Get her home,” Lee ordered.
Disconnect.
I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to deal with Hank.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I told Vance after I watched him press a button on the phone.
“You don’t have to,” he said, not looking at me. “Not now. Nebraska yawns before us. We’ve got time.”
I sat there a second and then whispered, “Thank you.”
I meant about him rescuing me, not about him letting me be quiet.
I think he knew what I meant.
* * * * *
X-rays showed I had three cracked ribs. There was nothing they could do but wrap me up and I think they did this more for my peace of mind than for my ribs. The cuts on my face would heal, they told me, and didn’t need stitches.
They didn’t like what they saw and gently asked if I wanted them to call in a police officer.
I said no.
I hadn’t decided what I was going to do next. I was getting by, minute-by-minute.
Vance loaded me up and we rolled.
Without asking, he pulled off at an outlet mall.
I could have kissed him, but I didn’t. If there was anything a high maintenance girl like me needed after being kidnapped and assaulted, it was an outlet mall.
We went into the Levi’s store where he bought me a pair of low-rise jeans that were just this short of being as good as Lucky’s, a great belt that was so dark brown, it was nearly black and a dusty pink henley. It wasn’t D&G but it would do in a pinch. Then we went into a Body Gap and I got new underwear. Then we went to Designer Shoe Warehouse and Vance bought me a pair of Keds so I could change out of Manolo Mary Jane’s.
Vance pulled off at a hotel and I would have born his first child if he but asked (though I didn’t tell him this) when we checked in and I took a shower, using the hotel’s shampoo and body wash.
I came out of the bathroom squeaky clean but still feeling dirty. I threw my clothes in the trash bin, never wanting to see them again (all but the Manolos because even being abducted and on the run cou
ldn’t taint Manolo Blahnik shoes).
I looked at Vance who was sitting on the bed.
“Ready to roll?” he asked, coming up from the bed, all action even though I suspected he’d had about as much sleep as I’d had these past few days.
That was to say, none.
I suspected that Hank or Uncle Tex sicced him on me the minute Hank found me gone.
“I need you to re-wrap my ribs,” I said, holding out the bandages to him.
He came toward me. I lifted my shirt to just under my breasts, beyond embarrassment at this point. I mean he found me handcuffed to a sink with really bad hair. Embarrassment was a now a luxury.
He re-wrapped me, quickly, expertly, no-nonsense, like he’d done it before a hundred times. When he was done, I nodded to him and said, “Ready.” But I didn’t move.
He watched me for a few beats then stood in my space and looked down at me. For the first time I noticed his eyes were shuttered and he was holding back from me.
Then he asked, “You need time? Lee wants you home but if you need time, we’ll make time. You can get into bed and let sleep heal.”
Shit.
Here I was again, with another good, fucking guy.
I couldn’t cope.
I swallowed the threatening tears.
“Home is Chicago,” I told him. I decided to focus on that and not tell him that I could likely sleep for a hundred years and not be healed.
He kept looking at me but stayed quiet.
“Will you take me to Chicago?” I asked.
He still kept looking at me.
Then he said, “I want to say yes, but I’m gonna say no.”
I closed my eyes and felt his hands on my arms.
“Girl,” he said softly. I opened my eyes and looked at him. “If I came home and found what Hank found with my woman bein’ gone and the man I sent lookin’ for her took her further away, there’s no tellin’ what I’d do. I’m sorry, it’s a guy thing. I respect him and I’m not gonna make him show me what he’ll do.”
I’d had a good look in the bathroom mirror. The cuts had scabbed over, the blood was gone, but the bruising and swelling on my cheekbone and around my eye were worse than ever. I had more bruises on my throat, arms, ribs, hips and wrists. I was an absolute mess. I was hideous; I felt it like a physical thing, inside and out.