Knife in my stomach. Fucking amateurs!
That said, why did they have to dump me naked? It’s going to be a pain getting back into Vegas without any damn clothes. Fortunately my skin seems to handle the crazy hot desert floor pretty well, so I mentally add that to the list of ‘things that are awesome about being me’ as well and walk toward the highway in the distance.
I’m still too weak for a high-powered run back to the city, but it turns out it’s not so hard to get picked up in the desert when you’re a naked young girl. Some dude in a pickup truck stops within two minutes.
“Thanks for stopping,” I say as I climb in.
He looks me up and down in a long gross gaze. “Sure honey, you okay?”
“Yeah. Totally fine.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Vegas. Where else?”
“Too true,” he chuckles.
“Hey, you mind letting me borrow one of those shirts you’re wearing?”
“Well, sweetheart, you know, I actually have a um…um…skin allergy, whereas my skin can’t really be out in the sun, which is why I need the two shirts,” he says, his eyes all over me the entire time.
“Your windows are tinted,” I say. He smiles at me with a creepy, serial killer-like-grin – I should know, since I’m working on one of those myself.
“That’s true,” he says simply.
“Okay. Pull over please.”
“Huh?”
“Just pull over. I’m not riding all the way back to Vegas with a pervert.”
“Pervert? You got me wrong, sweet thing.”
“Stop calling me pet names and pull over.”
“Well now, I don’t really think that’s a good idea, darlin’. Who knows who might pick you up next.”
“Are you saying you won’t let me out?”
“Well, yes. Yes, I guess I am.”
“Okay, just so we understand each other, this is your fault, okay?”
“What’s my faul-”
“Because I was just like, totally channeling my rage where it belonged, but now you’re being disgusting and so I just want you to know you’ve brought this on yourself.” I raise my foot in the air and kick the side of his head through the window, while grabbing the steering wheel with one hand and pulling us off the road. I think his neck broke because it’s all wobbly like Jell-O when I pull him back inside the truck. I push his foot off the gas and slow us to a stop on the side of the road. I strip off one of his shirts and put it on before dragging him out of the truck, tossing him over my shoulder, and dumping him behind some dry desert brush. As I do, I notice his feet are shockingly small and so I take his boots as well; they almost fit. I tie his button-down shirt around my waist so I won’t have to sit bare-assed on his vinyl seat. On the way back to Vegas, I fantasize about how to kill each and every one of my crew, except Adrian, I keep skipping over Adrian. But Felice is definitely getting some kind of tire-iron-special.
°
It’s morning judging by the shafts of soft light spilling into the room through the grimy window. I feel my jaw and find it healed to perfection. A hand gingerly touching my hip tells me it’s still a work in progress. Sharon’s still passed out on the floorboards nearby. I crawl over to her and take her pulse. It’s strong and steady.
I stand up unevenly, broken and still healing, but able to walk. Barely. I’m not sure what to do about Sharon. Hurting her has only made her more of a monster, but I don’t know if I know how to do anything but hurt.
All I can do is leave her alone.
I hobble down the stairs and into the street, grabbing my duffel bag on the way out, happy it’s early enough that few people are out to see the horror show that I am, my clothes caked in blood, my walk an awkward shuffle.
I make my way to a part of town not far from the orphanage to look for a hideout. It’s not a great area and I don’t think my rough appearance will be given a second thought. When I find a building that looks sufficiently boarded up and deserted I scale a fire escape and pull a few of the boards off a second floor window before crawling inside. It is blissfully empty, of people, at least, and I curl up in a corner and try to finish healing.
My mind swims with what a disaster I have made of things. On my own and away from the home for less than a day and already I’m a mess. Who was I kidding that I could just do this on my own. And Sharon. I can’t even think about her without my heart seizing up in my chest. I’ve ruined her. I mean, she was on her way to ruin without my help, but her fall out of that window might as well have been me pushing her off a cliff the rest of the way there.
I suddenly lose it; I burst into tears. A wail I wouldn’t have though possible escapes from me. I have never felt so alone in my life. Even though I’ve always felt alone, now there is just this magnifying glass on it, like it’s echoing off everything in the entire universe. The sobs just pour out of me, unrelenting in their depth. It’s the first time I’ve cried since I was six.