Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (17 page)

I tapped on her door in a pattern we
’
d agreed on, since she wasn
’
t sure Jake wouldn
’
t still try something. She opened it immediately. Her half-packed duffel bag was on the bed.

“
I just need a few more minutes,
”
she said.

“
Amy, sit down for a minute. We need to talk.
”

My heart twisted at the way her face changed. Pinched with anxiety, it was all eyes as she sat. Those worried eyes never left my face when I began talking.

“
We need to get some stuff straight between us,
”
I began. Leaving the most insulting questions for last, I asked her what she was afraid of.

At first she laughed, a fake little cough of a laugh that meant she was going to lie.
“
What do you mean? Just Jake. You knew that.
”

“
It isn
’
t just Jake. Don
’
t lie, Amy. Smokey knows you came here scared and you
’
ve been scared ever since. What are you running from? Besides Jake, I mean. Are you in trouble with the law?
”

Her head dropped.
“
Not exactly.
”

“
What the fuck does
‘
not exactly
’
mean? Are you in trouble with the law, or aren
’
t you?
”

“
Sort of.
”

My patience was wearing thin, and I let out a string of expletives that made her flinch away from me.
“
I think you
’
d better tell me the story and let me sort it out for myself.
”

“
I
…
You
’
ll think the worst of me,
”
she said, a tear leaking from one eye. She dashed it away.
“
Promise me you
’
ll still take me with you. I swear I didn
’
t do anything wrong.
”

This mixed message concerned me even more. Was she running from a false accusation? Wouldn
’
t it have been better to stick around and clear her name? What kind of trouble would
I
be in if I took her? Would I be aiding and abetting a felon?

“
What. Is. It?
”
I grated out between clenched teeth.

She wouldn
’
t look at me, as she told me one of the most horrifying stories I
’
d ever heard.

“
I was on the streets for a while, Rex. I ran away from an abusive home life at fifteen. I used to be pretty.
”
She stopped talking, got up and went into the bathroom, coming back with a length of toilet paper she used to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

“
I was a stupid kid. The first thing I did was get in a car with the wrong man. Twenty-four hours later, he
’
d sold my virginity and turned me into a whore. For a few weeks after that, he kept me for his own, but then he made me go with other men, sometimes more than one at once.
”

I nodded. I thought she
’
d had the techniques of a pro, and here was confirmation. But this was old news. It had to be fifteen years ago, or more. What had happened since then? I rolled my hand, indicating she should go on, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. The poor kid.

“
I was eighteen when Frank found me. I
’
d been addicted to meth for a while. It made me not care what I did, and my pimp kept me on a tight ration. But one night he sold me to a man who took me to a party. They kept giving me hits. It
’
s fuzzy, I don
’
t remember all of it. I
’
m sure I pulled a train that night. Do you know what that means?
”

I nodded. She
’
d had sex with all of them, probably several at a time. I was sick thinking about any eighteen year-old going through that.

“
Do you know what happens when someone binges on meth? Hit after hit?
”

I cocked my head, not trusting myself to answer. Maybe she
’
d tell me.

“
After a few days, it no longer gives you a rush. The high disappears, and you crash. That
’
s what happened to me. When I went catatonic, they threw me out. And they didn
’
t bother to dress me. Frank found me in a gutter, naked and almost dead from exposure. Lucky for me, a Dallas winter isn
’
t quite cold enough to kill you.
”

The twist of her mouth and the bitter words were the only indication she was reciting a painful memory from her own past. Otherwise, her expression was as flat as her eyes. I waited for her to explain who Frank was.

“
He was a police officer. He spent his nights searching for runaways, homeless kids like me who
’
d run into trouble. He took me to a rehab facility. When I got out five months later, clean and in possession of a GED in lieu of a high school diploma, he took me home with him and gave me some choices. I guess I was one of his success stories. I got a job as a barista and paid him rent. But it wasn
’
t enough to live on my own. I stayed with him until I turned twenty-one and then went to bartending school. He was against it. We fought, and I moved out.
”

So far, I hadn
’
t heard what she was running from, even though it was a heart-wrenching story. I made a move to hug her, but she straight-armed me.

“
There
’
s more. When I got out of rehab, Frank told me he wanted only one thing from me. My testimony against the men who
’
d almost killed me, if he could find them, and against my pimp. He expected me to tell him if I knew where any of them were. I helped put the pimp away.
”

“
He
’
s in prison?
”
I asked.

“
He was.
”
She took a deep breath.
“
It took him longer
—
five years
—
to find the men who gang-raped me and left me to die in the gutter.
”
She gave me a defiant glare.
“
Frank said it was rape because I didn
’
t have the capacity to consent. It took my counselors a long time to convince me he was right.
”

I twisted my eyebrows into what I hoped was a sympathetic grimace. She was probably right. Who was I to doubt? But I wanted the rest of the story.
“
Go on.
”

“
Frank came to me at the bar where I was working one night, and we made up. He said he
’
d found them, and he just needed me to identify them. I picked the one I recognized out of a lineup, and I thought he
’
d be convicted. But a week later, my ex-pimp, Octavio, showed up in the parking lot of the bar where I was working. I didn
’
t know he was out of prison. He grabbed me as soon as I walked out the back door.
”

I had a bad feeling about the rest of the story, but it was too late to stop her.

“
He drove me to Frank
’
s house. He made me get out of the car and stand at the door. He knocked, and Frank opened the door. He must have seen it was me through the peephole. He barely had a chance to say my name before Octavio shot him.
”
Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and this time she let me hold her.
“
Octavio took me to a house and gave me to some men. They
…”

I stopped her.
“
Please, you don
’
t have to.
”

“
Yes, I do. They were the same men from before. This time they didn
’
t care about keeping me docile. They raped me, but they didn
’
t drug me. I escaped after a couple of days, when they all passed out from whatever they were high on. I
’
ve been running ever since. They
’
re with a big cartel, Rex. Those men, and Octavio, too. I was their property, and I witnessed Frank
’
s murder. If they find me, they
’
ll kill me, and anyone who
’
s helping me. I promise, if you take me out of here, I
’
ll have you drop me at the next big town. Salt Lake City will be fine.
”

FOURTEEN

Amy

I
couldn
’
t tell what Rex was thinking, and for most of the time I was talking, I couldn
’
t look at him. The one time I did, the horror and pity in his eyes would have dropped me to my knees if I hadn
’
t already been sitting. The hell of it was, I knew I was still leaving out critical information. But I couldn
’
t tell him. I already knew I
’
d have to leave him, so what difference did it make if I still wasn
’
t being truthful? It was only to protect him, I lied to myself.

I hadn
’
t ever told anyone the whole sordid story before. Listening to myself talk, it was as if I was someone else, hearing the story from a stranger. What did I think of her? She was pathetic, but tainted. Who could look at her and not think her permanently stained with the disgusting leavings of johns and junkies? Dirty, worthless, and of no use to anyone, she hid in the shadows and endangered the people who were kind to her. She was a pariah.

When I finally stopped talking, I didn
’
t care whether Rex took me with him and I lived, or he refused and I died or worse. Worse would be if Jake got hold of me. I
’
d escaped sexual slavery twice. I didn
’
t think I had the energy to do it again. I
’
d end my days here in this desolate part of Wyoming, worn out, if not suicidal, before my thirtieth birthday.

“
How long?
”
Rex asked, breaking into my thoughts.

“
What?
”

“
How long have you been running?
”
he repeated.

I thought about it.
“
Four years.
”

“
And they haven
’
t caught up with you. Are you sure they
’
re still looking? Wait a minute.
”
I looked up at him, to see him contemplating the ceiling.
“
You
’
re only twenty-seven?
”
Incredulity colored his question.

“
Twenty-eight. I had a birthday a couple of weeks ago.
”
Strange. I hadn
’
t marked it or told anyone. There was nothing to celebrate really. Then I realized why he was stunned.
“
I look older. I know. Hard living.
”

“
Amy, you
’
re beautiful. Yes, I thought you were older. But not because you look it. How long has it been since you could relax?
”

Seventeen years. But I can
’
t tell you that.
“
A while.
”

“
Come on, let
’
s finish your packing. I promised I
’
d still take you with us, and I will. You
’
ve done nothing wrong,
”
he said. His tone was too kind, and I knew what it meant.

He didn
’
t want me anymore. Who could, as used as I was? Fresh grief filled me as I realized his loss wasn
’
t in a few days, but now. Still, I had no choice but to do as he said and finish packing. At least I
’
d be away from here. Hopefully Jake wouldn
’
t follow. Maybe Smokey and the rest of the club would forbid it. After all, they had no shortage of willing women. Why would the law-abiding members allow the young rebels to kidnap someone?