FINLEY
I finally caught a Greyhound to Trinidad, California.
Right as I received a message from Isaac.
IssacGray88: I’m glad your travels are going well. Listen, something big happened in the last day. I just found out I have an eight-year-old kid, and he’s sick with Leukemia. I understand if you don’t want to talk anymore, but at the end of the day, he’s the priority. I wanted to be open and honest. I didn’t want you to think I was hiding anything if we ever met.
Oh, we’re going to meet. He just has no idea how soon.
FinleyPark: Oh, wow! No, it isn’t a problem. Thank you for being honest. This must be a big shock to you. What’s he like? How sick is he? Are you happy?
I have a ton of questions. I’m not surprised a man his age has a child. I’m just wondering if he has enough room in his life for one more surprise.
“You sure you’re in the right place, lady?” the Greyhound bus driver, Agnus, asks as she opens the door for me.
“Yes, I am. Thank you so much.”
“It’s the middle of nowhere. You sure you don’t want to go to Hollywood? You’re pretty enough to make it there.”
I climb down the steps and jump to the pavement. “No, Agnus. I’m right where I need to be, thanks.” I wave goodbye and she shrugs, closing the doors, and the hydraulics hiss as the bus pulls away.
I breathe in the fresh air, and the lower temperature wraps around me. It’s gorgeous here. The clouds sit low, hanging in the trees, and the roads are pretty much deserted with barely any traffic.
Now, I just need to figure out where he lives.
Thunder rolls above me, and the sprinkles of rain splash against my skin. No matter how hard it pours, nothing will be enough to wash away my sins. I don’t feel guilty. I know I should, but my give a damns, the fucks I’m supposed to have, they’re gone. I’m done with men treating me like shit. I’m done with men thinking they can grab me and have me anyway they want me without consequence.
Trevor deserved what he got.
Those two men back in Kentucky deserved what they got.
And if anyone touches me here, I’m not afraid to cock the gun and pull the trigger again.
I dare someone to challenge me, and I’ll tally up the count.
The rain falls a little harder, and the thunder is louder, grumbling fiercely through the clouds. I pick up my pace and see a sign that says ‘Welcome to Trinidad.’ It’s next to a red light, and I can see a building of some sort through the mist of rain. I follow the black road, shoes slopping through the water puddling against the street, and hold on tight to my backpack straps.
This is crazy.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
It’s a good thing today is my birthday or now that I’m here, I would have turned around and walked away. Losing my nerve at the last second would h
ave been a nightmare. Granted, if I never left home, I wouldn’t have two murders under my belt.
I don’t include Trevor’s. I had a feeling what happened was coming, and I can’t feel bad about protecting myself.
As I’m walking down the street, my phone vibrates, but I can’t take it out of my pocket because it isn’t waterproof. I know the message is from Isaac, and now I’m ignoring him because I’m so nervous.
Is this considered stalking?
The hum of tires comes from behind me. Out of my peripheral vision, a car slows down, and blue and red lights come on. My heart pounds. A cold sweat breaks out all over my body. What if my name is plastered on the news? Is there a warrant out for my arrest?
“Excuse me, miss?”
Do I try to make a run for it? I can run into the woods and disappear. He’ll never be able to find me.
“Ma’am? Are you hurt? Are you okay? Do you need help?”