social security number on the tax forms when she was hired. The migrant workers on her father’s farm always had valid social security numbers, but it was never theirs. No one checked anything as long as the number was valid. Tony must have checked. And her social security number was on the restraining order she had gotten against Duane.
A lot of good that order had done. A slap on the wrist the first time he found her, and thirty days the second time when he burst into the apartment she thought he didn’t know about. A month in jail was all that Duane got for hitting her, because he’d gone into therapy.
This was the second time he had beaten her, despite the restraining order. The nurse at the ER said, “Honey, this is the truth. The only good those orders do is tell the cops who to arrest when they find your body. You gotta get out of town and disappear or that man will eventually kill you.”
Vanessa took her advice, and thought that she had successfully disappeared… but Duane had found her. And the only way Duane could have found her was if Tony had called him! It all fit. The manager’s lack of compassion. Tony’s sudden appearance on the diner side.
It was all part of his plan.
Somehow Tony expected that she would be grateful enough, or desperate enough, to become one of his whores just to escape her psycho ex-boyfriend. They had expected her to fold under the pressure and become what they wanted her to be—a cheap whore.
But Vanessa didn’t do what they expected. Neither the manager nor Tony nor Duane had expected her to grab her purse and run to the parking lot in just her waitress outfit, jump into her car and drive... and drive... and drive. By the time Duane had gotten to his pickup truck, Vanessa’s taillights had disappeared into the distance.
She didn’t know where she was going. She used a credit card for gas in Madison, but knew that she had to switch to cash or Duane would find her again. For some reason she felt in her heart that if she just drove south and got to someplace where it was warm, she could escape Duane and the hell that her life had become.
CHAPTER TWO
The sun had risen before she got to Chicago, and it set again sometime after she crossed the Missouri border into Arkansas. She had taken back roads through Illinois and southern Missouri, and back roads in a lot of the South means driving through miles of nothing but empty fields and tractors.
Somewhere on a gravel road a couple hours north of Saint Louis, she finally changed clothes. Her tight, skimpy shorts with “Tony’s” emblazoned just to the left of her crotch had caused some comments when she had stopped for gas and to buy some food. But the glare of a desperate woman will keep even the most leery man at a safe distance.
After she pulled jeans and a blouse out of the boxes of her belongings, she stripped off the shorts and then the matching blouse. It felt as if she was stripping off her past life as she stood beside her car naked for several minutes, letting the sun warm her body.
She balled up the clothing as tightly as she could and threw it as far as she could into the freshly plowed field. Her underwear was buried somewhere in those boxes, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. She pulled on the jeans, slid the blouse over her head, and continued her journey south.
That feeling of warmth and happiness stayed with her while the sun was up, but the sun had set a couple hours ago, and the drizzling rain had started shortly after that. Now she was just exhausted. The two-lane road on which she was currently driving would go through the town of Flat Springs in about another twenty miles. She would stop there... if she made it that far.
Vanessa hadn’t realized how far apart the towns were in this area. The little gas pump symbol on the dash had lit up miles and miles ago. It had been beeping at her for the past twenty minutes. And then... nothing...
A lot of good that order had done. A slap on the wrist the first time he found her, and thirty days the second time when he burst into the apartment she thought he didn’t know about. A month in jail was all that Duane got for hitting her, because he’d gone into therapy.
This was the second time he had beaten her, despite the restraining order. The nurse at the ER said, “Honey, this is the truth. The only good those orders do is tell the cops who to arrest when they find your body. You gotta get out of town and disappear or that man will eventually kill you.”
Vanessa took her advice, and thought that she had successfully disappeared… but Duane had found her. And the only way Duane could have found her was if Tony had called him! It all fit. The manager’s lack of compassion. Tony’s sudden appearance on the diner side.
It was all part of his plan.
Somehow Tony expected that she would be grateful enough, or desperate enough, to become one of his whores just to escape her psycho ex-boyfriend. They had expected her to fold under the pressure and become what they wanted her to be—a cheap whore.
But Vanessa didn’t do what they expected. Neither the manager nor Tony nor Duane had expected her to grab her purse and run to the parking lot in just her waitress outfit, jump into her car and drive... and drive... and drive. By the time Duane had gotten to his pickup truck, Vanessa’s taillights had disappeared into the distance.
She didn’t know where she was going. She used a credit card for gas in Madison, but knew that she had to switch to cash or Duane would find her again. For some reason she felt in her heart that if she just drove south and got to someplace where it was warm, she could escape Duane and the hell that her life had become.
CHAPTER TWO
The sun had risen before she got to Chicago, and it set again sometime after she crossed the Missouri border into Arkansas. She had taken back roads through Illinois and southern Missouri, and back roads in a lot of the South means driving through miles of nothing but empty fields and tractors.
Somewhere on a gravel road a couple hours north of Saint Louis, she finally changed clothes. Her tight, skimpy shorts with “Tony’s” emblazoned just to the left of her crotch had caused some comments when she had stopped for gas and to buy some food. But the glare of a desperate woman will keep even the most leery man at a safe distance.
After she pulled jeans and a blouse out of the boxes of her belongings, she stripped off the shorts and then the matching blouse. It felt as if she was stripping off her past life as she stood beside her car naked for several minutes, letting the sun warm her body.
She balled up the clothing as tightly as she could and threw it as far as she could into the freshly plowed field. Her underwear was buried somewhere in those boxes, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. She pulled on the jeans, slid the blouse over her head, and continued her journey south.
That feeling of warmth and happiness stayed with her while the sun was up, but the sun had set a couple hours ago, and the drizzling rain had started shortly after that. Now she was just exhausted. The two-lane road on which she was currently driving would go through the town of Flat Springs in about another twenty miles. She would stop there... if she made it that far.
Vanessa hadn’t realized how far apart the towns were in this area. The little gas pump symbol on the dash had lit up miles and miles ago. It had been beeping at her for the past twenty minutes. And then... nothing...
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