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“I’m going for a drive,” I tell Jude. “I’m too amped up to stay in this shitty room.”
“Hey, this is the best… wait, what’s the name of this town?”
“Liberty.”
“Right. This is the best Liberty has to offer. Don’t be such a bougie asshole.”
I arch a brow and give Jude an exasperated glare. We’ve spent way too much time together these last few days.
“Whatever, man. I’ll be back in a few.”
“Great, more ale for me,” he cheers, opening another bottle.
“Don’t get so wasted you can’t ride tomorrow. I want to get the hell out of here bright and early.” The sooner we’re away from this town and the trouble I could get myself into, the better.
Grabbing the keys, I make my way to the truck, thinking about the name of this little town—Liberty. Such a sweet name for what seems like a town most people don’t escape from. I remember my mom thinking she would never be able to leave that little town in Nebraska.
Me and my brother, Knox, had begged her to leave. Just pack up our meager belongings and get out. For years, my mom always said we couldn’t, that we had nowhere to go. Until one day, my dad turned his fists on Knox. That was it for her. He came looking for money, and when she didn’t have any to give, he decided to take his anger out on her oldest son, who wasn’t his biologically. My tiny frame attacked him from behind, but he threw me off without thought. That’s when my mom smacked him in the head with a pan, screaming at him to get out. Though the blow didn’t knock him out, it dazed him for a moment.
It was enough time for my mom to grab us and make a run for her room. All we heard was him banging around the house, presumably tearing it apart, looking for the cash he was sure she was always hiding. When we heard the wheels of his beat-to-hell pickup truck screech down the street, my mom didn’t waste a second. She threw as much as she could into her small sedan, and we took off, driving through the night, only stopping for gas and ice for my brother’s swollen cheek.
I didn’t understand at the time why she stopped in Shine, Massachusetts. There was something about being on a river that was constantly moving, always flowing to somewhere else that made her feel safe again. It reminded her if she had to leave, she could follow the river. She would never be stuck again. My mom didn’t date again until years later when the friendship she developed with the now president of the Black Roses turned into something more. For a long while, she didn’t tell us boys that she had been spending time with Trick outside of the shop. I think she was afraid we would be worried about it ending and us having to leave the only place that ever felt safe for my brother and me. Not like Trick’s mom, Janine, would have let that happen. We were family from day one, and nothing was going to change that.
I usually don’t let myself think about the sad parts of my past, but there was something about meeting Charlie that brought up those old memories. She reminds me too much of my mom and that time. It’s a good thing we’re leaving tomorrow. No use getting worked up about some girl in a diner who I don’t know and definitely can’t help, not in any real way.
Driving for over an hour, I decide I should probably head back to the room to make sure Jude isn’t drunk off his ass or hasn’t wandered to some seedy bar and brought a girl back to the motel. Unfortunately, it’s happened before, and I’m not looking for a repeat. Of course, that’s when the skies open up and start pouring rain. These Midwest summer thunderstorms are nothing to fuck around with. I’ve been stuck in plenty on my bike. At least I’m in the truck.
Just as I’m about to turn around, I see a petite figure walking down the side of the deserted street. Figuring it’s either a woman by herself or a kid, and the fact that it’s after midnight, I slow down and pull up to the person to make sure everything is okay. That’s when I see it’s a woman with long blonde hair hanging like a wet curtain around her face, her arms protectively wrapped around her familiar frame. When she looks up, I notice her tear-stained cheek is red and swollen, with a cut above her terrified eyes. When Charlie’s gaze meets mine through the glass, she looks seconds from breaking.
I roll down my window. “Do you remember me from the diner?”
“Yeah,” she replies in a broken whisper, barely audible above the loud rain drenching her from head to toe.
“Get in.” I reach over and open the door from the inside. Charlie grabs the door and winces, clutching her ribs tighter.
When she settles in, I’m seething with rage. Every beating my mom took, every slap and punch I witnessed, is playing like a movie reel through my mind. Every time I watched her clean her cuts and ice her bruises is like another punch to my gut.
We sit in the middle of the road for a few moments while I clutch the steering wheel to keep my fist from flying through the dash. This poor girl doesn’t need to be more scared than she already is. I swore to myself I wouldn’t get involved, but that was before my suspicions were confirmed.
“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time?” Why am I asking? I saw the bruises on her wrist earlier tonight. It’s not like I need a full account of every beating. Her palpable fear at the diner and the state I just found her in tells me she’s been dealing with this for some time.
Charlie closes her eyes and swallows before a breath escapes through her cut lip.
“No.” One word and that asshole’s fate is sealed. I know what she’s going through, and for whatever reason, she thinks she can’t leave. She feels trapped and alone. This is the last night she’ll ever feel like that again.
“Where is he?”
Chapter two
Charlie
Hepromisedhewouldn’tdo it again. I don’t know why I’m surprised he didn’t keep his promise this time. When Jace and his friends came to the diner tonight, I saw the look in his eye. I knew that look all too well, though it’s been months since I’d seen it. He was high again—another promise he broke. Whenever Jace decides to “party” with his friends, there’s more than drinking involved… a lot more. I should stay away tonight. He probably won’t notice—maybe—but if he does… I close my eyes as the memory of last time I was late coming home sails through my mind. It’s as though I know what’s going to happen and just want to get it over with. God, is that what my life has come to? Accepting that the beatings are going to happen and deal with the aftermath? We’ve been doing this for the last couple of years and every time, he says it won’t happen again. When will I stop believing him?
As soon as I walk into the rundown trailer we live in, I know for certain shit’s about to go sideways. There are beer bottles littering the large coffee table in front of our couch where three of his friends are sitting.
I put on a brave face and smile, saying polite hellos to the scumbags before going into our bedroom to change out of my dirty work uniform. Looking at myself in the mirror, I debate staying in here for the rest of the night, but last time I did that, Jace accused me of thinking I was too good for everyone.
Put on your big girl panties, Charlie. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.
