Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Pussy has power,” Tamara said with a bright smile breaking up the seriousness of the mood. “And thank God we all got some great snatch.”
I didn’t have a chance to process her words or let this new life I found sink in. Lexi’s phone pinged with her lunch alarm signaling our break was over. Everyone let out a sigh, but rose up to head back inside.
Nancy came in taking over my shift at the desk which put me back to housekeeping. I had a particularly challenging room. I literally scrubbed the bathroom tiles until my knuckles bled. There was something sticky under the sink along with some kind of oil that made the floor far too slick to be safe. I didn’t ask questions, not even in my mind. Some things were better left without an explanation.
When my shift ended and I returned to our room, the fatigue of the day, of our life had consumed me. I noticed absently Lyric was gone. A note sat on my pillow written in her picture perfect cursive:
Gone to the clubhouse with the girls. Don’t wait up. Love you.
My chest tightened. On one hand I was glad she had found herself comfortable enough here to venture out. Afterall what kind of life would we be leading sticking to ourselves? The point in leaving Montana was to be free not tie ourselves down in a smaller prison.
Still I worried. I found myself pacing and telling myself we were going to buy phones first thing in the morning. We hadn’t done it yet because one there was no one to call us, why spend the money, and two we worked where we slept, we were never apart. This distance even short as it was left me concerned and wishing I had a way to reach her. Tiny had provided us phones, but neither us felt comfortable using them for anything but work since it was a company provided thing. I guess if she didn’t turn up in the morning, I would have to call that number.
Eventually I forced myself to lay down, staring at the ceiling fan while listening to the distant sounds of motorcycle engines as they came and went into the night.
I didn’t sleep. Not really that was. I considered it more of a dozing on and off.
Lyric made her way home around four in the morning. Climbing in bed she smelled like smoke and man’s cologne. She didn’t say a word. Neither did I.
It didn’t take her long to fall asleep. I sat up and watched her.
She smiled.
In all the chaos of leaving home and the things she left behind, here in a run-down hotel room, engrossed in a whole new life, she smiled a genuine expression of the peace she found.
And suddenly in her peace, I found my own drifting into the deepest sleep I had since we left Montana.
6
MELODY
One Month Later
Lyric became part of this new world easily. She laughed easier, moved more freely. Her circle widened. She started painting her nails, bought new clothes, and carried herself with a confidence I had never seen before. She let Trinity curl her hair and teach her about lip plumping gloss. Lyric immersed herself in a world we had never imagined.
I watched each day as she grew into someone else, while I stayed in place still holding my breath. I wanted to blend in as easily as she had, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Not because I wasn’t comfortable where we were.
In fact, I found myself far more relaxed in this environment than the one we came from. To some degree that bothered me the most. The problem was inside my head. No matter how many days passed, I couldn’t stop waiting for them to find us.
Punish us.
My gut, no my very soul, told me there was no way we got to escape our past. It was simply a matter of time before this new world would crash around us.
The bikers came and went. The customers too but I had to admit we were seeing more business each and every day it seemed.
One thing I learned about the men in leather—each man was distinctly different.
Some looked at me too long. An uncomfortable stare that made them smirk with pride for getting under my skin. Others didn’t look at all.
It was as if I was invisible.
That ate at me inside more. Which truly made me question my sanity. But being invisible was something that happened to all the woman where we came from and I hated feeling like I didn’t matter. Women had value, no matter what culture, religion, or demographic someone came from. All people mattered and should have freedoms equal of one another.
A prospect they called “Three” approached taking me out of my random thoughts of change.
“Hey girl,” he greeted leaning over the counter towards me. “You always this cold or is it just me?” He looked to my chest.