Until next time, princess.
I shiver at the thought. I’ve always trusted my instincts when it comes to people. The men Mom has brought home have made me feel leery, but never have they made me feel frightened. I always knew that they were weak. Useless. Seeking attention from a prostitute because they couldn’t find connection in the real world.
Not this man. The man from last night was sinister. He made my skin crawl. He reeked of death and rot. His eyes devoid of emotion.
Until next time, princess.
He intends to see me again.
I glance over and find Chase sleeping in the same chair from last night, head propped on his hand. He almost looks like a statue in this position, but I can see his chest move as he takes each breath.
Quietly getting up, I reach for the bottle of Tylenol and the glass of water on the coffee table. After taking two pills and drinking the entire glass, I slide my shoes on. I tiptoe all the way over to the back door, cringing at each creak in the floor. I keep glancing back to see if I’ve woken Chase, but he hasn’t moved at all.
At the door, I take a deep breath. Disengaging the deadbolt, I slowly turn the handle. I open the door and cringe as the alarm blares.
I look back and find Chase staring at me, but he doesn’t move toward me. I take this as my chance to escape.
I take off running, leaving the door open. Once at the tree line, I look back. He isn’t pursuing me, so I slow down.
Instead of stopping off to change my clothes, I head straight to the bus stop.
I’m early enough that the only other person sitting here is Hailee, another trailer park girl.
She’s sitting on the bench, reading a book, but as I approach she glances up, taking a second look when she sees my face.
“What happened to you?” she asks, almost as if she can’t help herself.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs, going back to her book.
“Seriously, what do you mean?”
She looks back up, meeting my eyes. After a moment, she sighs, pulling a compact mirror out of her bag, handing it to me.
I take it, scrutinizing my face. Other than some circles under my eye, I look okay. I turn my head right, then left. That’s when I see it and can’t help but grimace.
There’s a small bump on the side of my face. The bruising is a dark purplish-blue. I wince as I bring my fingers up to touch the area.
“Fuck, that hurts.”
She bites her lip as I hand the mirror back, hesitating.
“What?” I ask her. “Spit it out.”
She sighs. “I could cover it up if you want.”
“Cover it up?”
She pulls out a small bag, rooting in it until she finds what she’s looking for. Then she pats the spot beside her.
“Why are you willing to help me?”
She shrugs. “You’re a loner like me. That bruise is begging for questions to be asked. I guess, I’d hope you would offer me the same if the situation was reversed.”
I take the seat next to her. “That’s nice of you.”
She puts some foundation onto a small sponge, bringing it to my face, lightly brushing it over the area. Even then, the spot still aches with each swipe.
