Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Now, it was time to face the fact that I didn’t have a home anymore. My clothes were in tatters, so the police got me some jail oranges. The motel manager allowed me to shower, and I dressed afterward. A policewoman had stayed behind to make sure I had a place to go. Which was really code for making sure I left the motel. At the time, I thought Avery’s information that he’d only paid for an hour was horrifying. He’d only intended to get what he wanted, then he’d blazed. Had planned on it all along. Now, I was grateful for it. I could have been there far longer. The damage much greater. Thankfully, it had only been three or four hours since the whole thing began.
But, now what? I had no idea how I was going to survive the night on my own. The pain medicine helped, but it wouldn’t last. I knew I needed to go to my parents’ house tonight if I was going to have a chance at all of getting some of my things. Once I had my stash of cash and some clothes, I could at least find a place to hole up and have a breakdown. Because it was coming. The pain was physical, but it was more mental, and once I allowed myself to feel it, I knew it would be a long, long while before I could get control again.
I lived in Williamson, West Virginia. Population under four thousand. My family, honest-to-God descendants of the Hatfield clan, pretended to be pillars of the community. They had more than one profitable business and helped bring in money into town. Rich. Influential. But they raised their children to do for themselves. I was their problem child. The likelihood of anyone believing my story or caring to help me was slim. If I told my parents -- especially my mother -- they’d just say I got what I deserved. So, yeah. I had nowhere to go. And I was in shock. Still, the officer saw me out and just… left. If a female officer wouldn’t help me, who would?
It took me an hour or so before I made my way home. The doors were locked, but I still had my purse. Thank God, my parents hadn’t thought to change the security code yet. I let myself in with my key and my code. The lights were off so I hoped everyone was asleep. It was almost three in the morning so I was probably in luck. All I wanted was a change of clothing and my stash of savings, and I’d be gone.
I crept upstairs and into my room. I thought I’d be alone, but my sister, Ginny, was awake, reading. In my bed. She shone the flashlight in my face, then scoffed.
“Thought Mom threw you out. She said I could have your room, so if you’re back, you’ll have to take my room.”
“Just keep reading,” I said as I went to my dresser. I grabbed my backpack and emptied it on my bed before stuffing clothing into it. Ginny may have moved in here to sleep, but she hadn’t completely taken over things yet. Thankfully, my money was in the side pocket of my backpack, and I stuffed it in my bra just in case Ginny ratted me out and someone took the backpack before I could get out of here. It was a real possibility, because my head was still foggy from the pain medicine. I was upright because of pure grit. Once I crashed, I’d crash hard.
“You’re not supposed to be here. I’m telling Mom.”
“I just need some clothes, Ginny. I can’t wear this bright orange jumpsuit all the time. Besides, I paid for everything I have here. It’s mine.”
“Mom!”
“Ginny, please! Stop!”
I knew she wouldn’t. So I just zipped up the pack and hurried out. The light was on in the hall and my poppy stood outside the door to his and Mom’s bedroom. He took one look at me and his face erupted in anger.
“Get your ass outa this house before I call the fuckin’ cops!” Without saying a word, I hurried down the stairs. “And leave that pack here! Little thief!”
No way I was complying with that. I might be homeless, but I needed clothes. I had enough money to get out of town and eat until I could secure a job and save enough for a down payment on an apartment, but I needed everything in that pack.
As I ran outside and across the yard, the deafening blast of a shotgun boomed in the night. I screamed but kept running. Another shot and dirt sprayed up from the ground just to my left.
“You ever come back here, I’ll kill ya, ya little whore!” That was my father. Screaming at me even as he shot at me. I kept running. It was the only thing I could do. I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do. But I’d figure it out.