Rock Chick Redemption
Page 28
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“I should f**k you, right here, in his bed. Leave a present for him on his sheets.”
God, no. Please, God, no, I thought.
I started struggling again, my ribs were burning where he kicked me, my face aching, I could feel the blood there. Bil y didn’t notice my struggles.
“I should do it but we don’t have time,” he said and I had just a second to thank God before Bil y said, “Get dressed.” He got up, jerking me up with him.
“Get dressed! ” he screamed.
Shaking and scared, I got dressed.
* * * * *
I tried to escape. He took me to his car, parked out in the street behind Hank’s 4Runner. He drove, at first, like a madman, silent, crazy.
I left him to his thoughts. Mine were of survival, then escape.
Once we left Denver, he seemed to calm.
I decided it was time to try to speak, maybe reason with him, maybe talk him around. “Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom,” I said.
“Shut your f**kin’ mouth.”
Okay, so I was wrong about him being calm.
He drove, fast.
Close to the Colorado-Nebraska border, we stopped at a gas station.
“Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom, see to my face,” I said quietly.
He turned to me. He didn’t look like my handsome, sweet, dreamer Bil y anymore. I didn’t even know this man.
“You run, I’l catch you. Make no mistake.” I nodded, I believed him. Stil , 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 swel ing 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 cal the cops. Hoping I’d hear sirens.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Get your ass out here!” Bil y yel ed.
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I pushed open the door with al my strength and ran, straight by Bil y, hel 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 fil ing up their cars or waiting in them, stunned immobile at the sight of Bil y 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.
Bil y 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 Bil y.
He pul ed over and turned, giving me his ful 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, Bil y 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’l learn,” he finished, then he pushed me off him, put the car in gear and we took off.
* * * * *
He drove erratical y. 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 wal et was ful of bil s, 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. Bil y tied me to the steering wheel again while he checked in. He didn’t untie my hands al night, even stood over me while I went to the bathroom.
Lying on my back in the bed, Bil y pressed into me, half his body over me, keeping me from breathing, my ribs stil 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.
“Bil y, 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.”
“Bil y,” I whispered. “What have you done?”
“It’s al 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 al night, Bil y 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, Bil y was beyond fast-talk now, even Bil y 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 Bil y 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 al -night café. Something. I had to bide my time, not fight; maybe make Bil y think I’d given up.
Bil y would have to f**k 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.
God, no. Please, God, no, I thought.
I started struggling again, my ribs were burning where he kicked me, my face aching, I could feel the blood there. Bil y didn’t notice my struggles.
“I should do it but we don’t have time,” he said and I had just a second to thank God before Bil y said, “Get dressed.” He got up, jerking me up with him.
“Get dressed! ” he screamed.
Shaking and scared, I got dressed.
* * * * *
I tried to escape. He took me to his car, parked out in the street behind Hank’s 4Runner. He drove, at first, like a madman, silent, crazy.
I left him to his thoughts. Mine were of survival, then escape.
Once we left Denver, he seemed to calm.
I decided it was time to try to speak, maybe reason with him, maybe talk him around. “Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom,” I said.
“Shut your f**kin’ mouth.”
Okay, so I was wrong about him being calm.
He drove, fast.
Close to the Colorado-Nebraska border, we stopped at a gas station.
“Bil y, I have to go to the bathroom, see to my face,” I said quietly.
He turned to me. He didn’t look like my handsome, sweet, dreamer Bil y anymore. I didn’t even know this man.
“You run, I’l catch you. Make no mistake.” I nodded, I believed him. Stil , 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 swel ing 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 cal the cops. Hoping I’d hear sirens.
A fist pounded on the door.
“Get your ass out here!” Bil y yel ed.
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then I pushed open the door with al my strength and ran, straight by Bil y, hel 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 fil ing up their cars or waiting in them, stunned immobile at the sight of Bil y 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.
Bil y 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 Bil y.
He pul ed over and turned, giving me his ful 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, Bil y 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’l learn,” he finished, then he pushed me off him, put the car in gear and we took off.
* * * * *
He drove erratical y. 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 wal et was ful of bil s, 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. Bil y tied me to the steering wheel again while he checked in. He didn’t untie my hands al night, even stood over me while I went to the bathroom.
Lying on my back in the bed, Bil y pressed into me, half his body over me, keeping me from breathing, my ribs stil 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.
“Bil y, 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.”
“Bil y,” I whispered. “What have you done?”
“It’s al 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 al night, Bil y 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, Bil y was beyond fast-talk now, even Bil y 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 Bil y 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 al -night café. Something. I had to bide my time, not fight; maybe make Bil y think I’d given up.
Bil y would have to f**k 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.
