Page 7 of Riding Hard

They don’t seem inviting, and the last thing I want to do is walk into a town in the dark. I try to continue driving forward, but my car seems to be slowing down, and no matter how hard I press my foot against the gas, it doesn’t go any faster.

My heart begins to race as my gaze flicks around the dash. No warning lights have gone off, nothing is flashing, and I know that I have a full tank of gas because I always keep a full tank of gas in case I need to run in the middle of the night… kind of like now.

When I left Victor the first time, I didn’t go too far outside of Los Angeles, where we were living at the time. He found me quickly. And each time I left, I drove a bit farther, and a bit farther, until I finally made it out of state and to Las Vegas.

It’s the furthest I’ve ever been, and I thought that I was finally free. How he found me in a city with a population of over half a million and almost a million on any given day with tourists is beyond me.

But he did.

He had no issues finding me.

My hands begin to shake as I guide my car to the side of the road. I’m not sure what to do. It’s not going anywhere. It’s not even running anymore. It’s just… dead. I don’t bother getting out to check anything. I don’t know what I would even check at this point.

What cash I’ve got, I can’t spend on this junk heap, not when I have to pay for a down payment on some kind of living situation. Flicking my gaze to the rearview mirror, I wonder when he’ll find me here.

It’s just a matter of time. I didn’t get far enough away for him not to find me quickly.

I also wonder if I’ll even have a chance to reach the actual town in front of me before he discovers where I’ve gone. Before he drags me away, or maybe he’ll just end me and toss my body into the desert.

My car is my car. There’s no hiding it, especially not where it’s stopped. If he drives this way, he’ll see it sitting on the side of the road like a gigantic shiny beacon, calling to him and showing him exactly where I am.

I also won’t be able to carry stuff into town. What little stuff I have, that is. It’s all stacked in the back of my car and in my trunk. If Victor comes across it, even if he doesn’t get me first, he will destroy everything.

Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I look up at the ceiling of my car, through the sunroof, the sunroof that leaks every time it rains and practically fills my entire car with water. But as I take in the bright stars that sparkle in the sky, I can’t help but wonder what kind of message the universe is trying to send me.

Should I just give up?

It feels like that’s what it’s saying to me. Every turn, every time I try to leave, he finds me and hurts me again, and then I have to find the strength to run again. Over and over. I always thought all I had to do was stay strong. Get away, and it would be okay. I just had to go. Now that I’ve gone, I’m not so sure.

It’s not that I love Victor, because I don’t. I haven’t for a long time, if I ever did. I don’t even know anymore. I don’t want to give up, though. Not yet, at least. I still feel like I have some fight left in me, but is it all for naught?

I wish I knew.

I wish there were a sign or some kind of answer for me that was clear.

Because right now, all the signs lead straight to me being hurt or dying. But none lead to anything that isn’t Victor hurting me, and that’s not how I want to live. Because that’s not living—that’s barely surviving.

I want to live and breathe without looking over my shoulder. I want to laugh and smile again. I want to sleep deeply. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Probably before I even met Victor.

That would be nice... a fantasy even. Sleep. Laughing, smiling, living, breathing… sleeping.

CHAPTER

FIVE

LOOT

Cade sits at the shitty table, eating the pizza that was just delivered. Sitting at the table that I did not buy for her. This is from a fucking side of the road, probably marked free by whoever was just trying to unload their half-broken shit.

This is not what I bought her, which means she sold it for whatever fucking reason that has taken her away for weeks. She’s lucky she’s not here. If she were, I’m not sure I could control my anger toward her, and that’s something I promised I would never do in front of my son.

My entire childhood was chaotic. My mother would do the same things as Destinee— disappear for weeks, usually with a man, leaving me alone to take care of my sister. She didn’t give a shit.

And when my dad would grace us with his presence, he would get so pissed about my mom being wherever the fuck she was that he would take it out on us. I always took the brunt in an attempt to protect my sister.

Walking into Cade’s bedroom, I look around just so I can see the way she left it. Of course, it’s a fucking mess. Anger bubbles inside me. My blood is probably actually boiling at this point. I am so goddamn pissed off at what I'm seeing.

It’s not just because his room is a mess, but it is that. A complete fucking disaster. There are clothes, shoes, and toys everywhere. I doubt she’s picked it up in a year. But that’s not what has me pissed off.