Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“This is my beat,” a voice growls.
I look up into a pair of bloodshot eyes. The man holding me stinks of brandy. His clothes are oily and his hair and beard dirty.
“Sorry,” I mumble, battling to get the word out with the pressure he’s putting on my windpipe.
From the corner of my eye, I watch Charlie. My heart sinks when he gets to his feet, his face scrunched up in fear.
“I didn’t know.” I lift my hands. “I won’t come back here. Just let me go. My brother is on his way, and he’s going to hurt you. I don’t want trouble.”
He glances over at Charlie. When he sees my brother’s bulky frame moving toward us, he releases his grip on me. I scurry away as fast as I can, intercepting Charlie halfway.
“Va–Val?”
Charlie would never hurt a fly, but my threat worked.
“Let’s go,” I say, taking his arm and heading back to the road.
We have to wait an hour before the last visitor, a man who was jogging on the beach with his dog, leaves the parking lot where our car is hidden. Only then do we get into the car and settle for the night. Thankfully, Charlie falls asleep quickly, but I’m not so lucky. My mind works overtime. We need money. The only plausible solutions are to find a job, rob a bank, or beg. I don’t want to beg or steal, but work is hard to come by.
The surprising part is I still miss Gabriel. I miss his arms around me and his mouth on my skin. My body needs him with more intensity than ever. If he was here, he would’ve kept me safe, like he protected me from Tiny, but what will he do to my baby? Will he blame me? Or hate me? Will he believe it was an accident, that I didn’t plan this pregnancy to manipulate my way out of my debt? No. He won’t believe me. A man like Gabriel never slips up, and he won’t understand failure. There was a good reason why he gave me the birth control pills. He won’t want this baby. He won’t be forgiving or understanding. Yet, lying here, staring at the roof of our stolen car, I want to run both from and to him. He’s the only man I simultaneously crave and fear.
A noise pulls me from my reverie. It sounds like an empty can being kicked on the tar. I look over to Charlie. Please don’t wake up and panic. If he makes a sound, we’ll be discovered. The metal clang becomes louder. Laughter follows. I turn on my stomach to peer through the back window. Four men are walking our way. They’re kicking a beer can between them. The red end of a cigarette glows in the corner of one of the men’s mouths.
I close my eyes. Don’t let them venture into the bushes. My heart starts galloping as they come nearer and nearer, making a raucous racket. The walking and swimming must’ve exhausted Charlie, because he sleeps through the noise. My nails dig into my palms as I wait for them to leave, but they sit down on the side of the lot, and from the way they make themselves comfortable, they may stay for a while. They talk and talk until the conversation turns into an argument, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. They’re speaking in Zulu. One of the men puts a six-pack of beer in the center of their circle, and they each crack open a can. Another chooses a song on his phone and plays it at top volume. Charlie stirs, but he doesn’t open his eyes.
They’re getting wilder, laughing and smoking pot. The smell is unmistakable. When they take out flip knives and start throwing them at stray cats, I break out into a cold sweat. On top of that, my bladder is full, and I don’t know for how much longer I can hold. As long as the men are here, we’re trapped. The feeling is nauseating. Right now, I’ll do anything to be back in Gabriel’s strong arms, except sacrifice my baby.
After a long time, one gets up and walks into the bushes, heading straight for us.
My throat closes up. I stop breathing. A short distance from our car, he stops and opens his fly. Aiming straight at us, he relieves himself in the bushes.
Don’t let him see us.
A tilt of his head, one missing leaf or the shine of the moon on the body of the car, and we’ll be discovered.
He shakes himself dry, zips up, and, to my utter relief, turns back to his buddies.
My body is a shaking mass of nerves. I’m shivering all over, feeling cold to my core. I stay awake, hardly breathing, watching their every move. After what feels like an eternity, they get up and walk away. The air leaves my lungs in a gush of relief. To be on the safe side, I wait ten minutes before I dare it out of the car and near the lot. There’s no sign of the men. I make quick work of emptying my bladder behind a bush and flick on my penlight. On the tarmac lies a burned spoon caked with blood, an empty plastic bank bag, and several dented beer cans. We can’t stay here. It’s only a matter of time before we’re caught, raped, and murdered.