Chapter 5
It had now been more than a week since Taylor had run from the Voodoo Troops clubhouse. There were times when she wondered what would have happened if she had stayed. Would they have remained as friendly as they seemed, or would the true nature come out after she became dependent on them? It didn't matter. She had never liked asking for help and didn't plan to start now.
She sat in the shower stall of a truck stop. For a few dollars, you could rent a private stall for a certain amount of time. She had already showered and changed into clean clothes that she had picked up at a thrift store. She pulled out a small, zippered bag and opened it. Twenty. Forty. Sixty, Eighty. Eighty-five. Ninety. One. Two. Three. And a hundred. She sighed, letting her head fall back to the wall. She had a hundred ninety-three dollars. She peeked into the small bag. Her check card was there. She had hoped to have that for when she found a job. A little something to start with. But if push came to shove, she would use it.
The timer in the room dinged bringing her from her thoughts. She kept out five dollars and hurried to return the money to its hiding place in her backpack. Now to fill her water bottle at the fountain and get a hot sandwich from the deli, then back to the park by closing time.
As she walked alongside the road, she made mental notes of places to seek out the next day. The first day she had applied at the grocery store near the park. The drawback there, as she had learned, was the problem with each place, was she had no permanent address to give them. So tomorrow she decided to take a different avenue. She’d search out small local businesses that may be more understanding and give her a chance. And if luck was on her side, they would pay in cash.
She didn't imagine Drifter would look for her. But she wanted to feel secure about that fact.
Taylor sucked in a breath and her heart raced. A motorcycle. It was behind her. Her feet became lead, and she dared to look behind her. It turned into the truck stop. Not Drifter. Relief had never felt so good. She picked up her pace. Her surroundings became a blur as she power-walked away from town and through a neighborhood. She heard it again. Or she thought she did. She studied the area before jogging across the road toward the park entrance.
Taylor squinted, focusing on her steps. Steps that had become routine. But you never know what could be scurrying around in the dark. What was that? She froze and tilted her head. A vehicle. She ducked into the edge of the trees. Lights filled the gaps between the leaves as the truck passed. She hurried to the fence line where she had discovered a break in the links. Not large, but enough for her to ease through. And perfect for not risking sneaking through the gates again.
Hunger and exhaustion slowed her pace the rest of the way to her usual picnic spot where she dropped her backpack onto the bench before sitting down. The deli sandwich was still warm when she pulled it from her bag. It had been a while since she had had a warm meal. She savored every bite, knowing she should save part of it for the morning, but relishing what she thought was actually a real meal. A shower. Clean clothes. Warm food. A full belly. She smiled. Things had to be looking up.
Twigs creaked and a leaf here and there crunched. She closed her eyes, imagining the squirrels scampering about searching for their own dinner. Another moment and she might have fallen asleep out here. She gathered her trash and jerked her bag from the seat. Pausing at the trash can, she tossed the sandwich wrapper into it and headed toward the bathroom. A yawn forced her eyes to close again as she opened the door. She climbed onto the counter and leaned into the corner, dropping her feet into the sink as she had done each night.
The last burst of energy drained from her body. Just as the world began to fade, the bathroom door slammed against the wall. She screamed. Her heart pounding against her ribs, she scrambled to move.
"What are you doing here?"
Taylor's chest heaved. She gasped for breath as stared at Oz. He appeared angry, with his hands resting at the waist of his jeans. His voice was calm, but his eyes cut deep. She opened her mouth to chastise him for scaring her, but nothing came.
"Why. Are. You. Here?" He inched closer with each punctuated word.
"Trying to sleep,” she forced out. "What are you doing in the ladies’ room?"
"Following you. You're one tough woman to track down.”
Taylor clutched the bag in her arms tight and the wall mocked her as her back pressed hard against it. "What do want with me?"
"My best friend's old lady wants to see you. Come on.”
His chest was like steel where she pressed her foot against him. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"We're not staying here all night."
"Then leave." she demanded. "Shut the door on your way out." She shoved with all she had but he didn’t even waver.
Oz pushed her foot away.
"I'll scream,” Taylor warned him.
"Scream. No one's around. Remember. You snuck in after hours.”
All her energy and fear pooled in her leg as she aimed for his chest once more.
His grip was gentle but abrupt, catching her ankle mid kick. He stepped forward and lifted her from the counter and turned for the door.
Put me down." She swung her fist. Darn that bag. She twisted and kicked.
Oz’s grip tightened. “You’re wasting your energy.”
His steps were long and easy. His arms warm and comforting. She huffed out a breath and relaxed against him. Truth be told, even though she was too tired to fight, she didn't feel threatened.
"Don't you think you've walked enough from the truck stop to here?"
"You followed me from the truck stop?"
"Had to see where you were going. This explains why I couldn't locate a residence for you."
"You know I'll just run again,” Taylor snapped.
"Once you talk to Ruby, you can go anywhere you like. I'll even drive you there.”
Oddly, she believed him. Or at least wanted to. A few hours of normalcy in a house or wherever this woman wanted to meet couldn’t be too bad. "What does she want?"
"She and Chelle were inseparable for many years. I think she wants to know how she had been doing and if she was happy. You know. All that girl stuff.”
"That's Venus?"
"We don't call her that anymore."
Ruby was Venus. Yes. Chelle had talked about her often. Even more so lately. Okay. One day for her friend and Taylor could be on her way.
Oz set Taylor on her feet and helped her through the break in the fence. "My bike's at the end of this entrance road. Stay here and I'll come back and pick you up."
Taylor moved closer toward the road and watched Oz jog away. She dropped the backpack from her chest and swung it around and slid it up her arms to rest against her back. Her gaze never strayed from him. He strode across the uneven terrain with ease. His slim form seemed to float in the moonlight toward his motorcycle. The engine roared to life, and she wondered again how she hadn't noticed him following her. She must have been more preoccupied than she realized. Or exhausted. Maybe both.
Oz rolled to a stop next to her, and she stepped on the buddy peg and swung her leg over, settling behind him. The cool rush of the night air was refreshing. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the contrast to walking in the scorching sun. She had no idea where they had traveled to when the bike fell silent, and she opened her eyes.
"Doesn't look like anyone's awake," she commented, stepping off the bike.
"That's because the house is empty."
"Where's Venus?"
"I imagine at home in bed. We're not barging in during the night. I'll call and we'll go over in the morning."
"I didn't agree to this. I don't know you.”
"Would you rather sleep in a bed, or on that hard ass sink?"
"An actual bed does sound good,” Taylor whispered.
“Room on the left.” Oz jutted his chin toward a door behind her.
Taylor glanced behind her. A bathroom. A real bathroom with a tub and soft rug to stand on. To soak in a bubble filled tub would be a treat. Relax and—
“Make yourself at home. There’re old tee shirts in the top drawer in there you can sleep in. I’m hitting the sack. It’s been a day.”
Taylor jerked back toward Oz. He locked the house door and stepped around her, disappearing into the room to the right of the bathroom she had been staring at.
She squeezed her bag in her arms and spun toward the kitchen they had entered through. Moonlight filled a window above the sink, reflecting a shimmer across the small square metal table tucked against the opposite wall. She could grab more food and be on her way. He wouldn’t know until morning, and she’d be long gone. She scanned the living room where she stood. Simple. Definitely a bachelor pad. Nothing feminine or pretty about the place. Nothing personal really. She squinted toward a glass case. Red and green letters on an aged tan cover. A children’s book? She eased closer. The Wonderful World of Oz.
Not one she’d ever seen. It appeared to be old. Taylor sucked in a breath. An original? Maybe. She didn’t know the value of such an item or how to determine its worth. But it must be rare for him to have displayed it so carefully. Rare meant high dollar. She gripped the handle atop her backpack. It would fit nicely with the food. She could travel all night and reach a pawn shop first thing the next day and be set for a while. Possibly secure an apartment if she happened upon a knowledgeable dealer.
A smile lifted Taylor’s lips as she ran a fingertip along the edge of the glass display.