I open my eyes as shock masks his face and his fingers leave my throat. He looks at me and then the area where I stabbed him in his upper right side. “You fucking stabbed me,” he chokes out as he grabs the handle of the knife and pulls it out.
I scoot away from him inching toward the back door. He points the knife blade at me. “Oh, you bitch. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.” A devilish smirk stretches across his face as he lunges forward. I grab the skillet from the stove, it’s still full of warm grease and three other pieces of meat, and I swing.
The moment moves in slow motion, like a TKO in a boxing match when the opponent’s mouth goes sideways before the rest of their head. The pan connects with his face and he goes down hard, knocking his head on the kitchen table before he meets the floor. The knife falls from his hand and slides under the stove.
Gripping the edge of the sink I tap him with my foot, but he doesn’t respond. Bile rises in my throat as I look down at him sprawled in the floor laying like he is waiting to be traced in a chalk outline.
My hand flies to my mouth as hot tears slide down my cheeks. What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?
His cell phone sounds off again. I bend down to retrieve it from his front pocket and notice his chest isn’t moving. A vomit filled lump forms in my throat as I check his phone. It’s Flip again. Panic sets in, and I check for a pulse, only I don’t know if I am doing it right.
A text comes through from Flip.
I’m coming to you. You better have my money, Chris! – Flip
Shit.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I run to the bedroom and pull my duffle bag down off the shelf in the closet. Gathering whatever I can of my clothes off the floor I know I only have minutes to make my escape.
The loud engine of his truck flies down our gravel driveway,y and I make a run for the front door knowing he will come through the back. The front porch gate swings shut as I run down the rickety wooden stairs that have started to rot. A splinter digs into the bottom of my barefoot, but I bite my own tongue to stop from screaming.
My bare feet hit the damp fall grass, twigs poking me and the blades making my ankles itch as they make contact scratching my skin.
I run through the woods not knowing where to go or which way to turn as my lungs burn with exhaustion.
I come out on the freeway as traffic breezes by me. The headlights of a big rig blind me as I shield my eyes. The large loud truck rolls to a stop and the passenger door opens. An older woman pokes her head out. “Are you okay?”
I know I must look a mess. Dressed in pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt with holes in it. No shoes. My hair a tangled mess. “Can you give me a ride?”
She takes one pitying look at me. “Get in.”
I climb into the cab of the truck with her and another woman. “We’re heading north.”
“Sounds good.” I lay my head back and catch my breath.
**
The truck’s hydraulics whooshing wakes me as the rig stops on the side of the road next to a motel. “This is as far we go.”
“Thank you.” I offer them a weak but grateful smile.
“Good luck,” the women tell me and shove a wad of cash into my hands.
“I can’t…the ride was plenty.”
“You’ll need it.” The woman sitting closest to me closes my fist over the money. The bills crinkle into my palm.
“How can I thank you or reach you to pay you back because I will.”
“Just promise us that whatever situation you’re running from that you won’t ever go back.”
I nod and lick my lips as I open the door.
“Here.” She reaches into the back of the truck and hands me a pair of boots. I slip them on my feet, trying not to cry. I grab my bag from the floorboard and give them a wave as they leave.
Across the road is a diner and gas station. My second stop after I get a room for the night.