Page 13 of Rise
Before I have a chance to lose my nerve, I blurt out. “I’m new around here, Ma’am.And it just so happens that I’m looking for work… and a place to stay.”
She eyes me up and down, and a wide, brilliant smile appears on her face. “Really? What’s your name, darling?”
“Talia Rogers,” I answer. It’s an easy little white lie without being too far from the truth. Talia is a version of my first name, and Rogers, well it’s a stretch, but it’s close enough.
“It’snice to meet you, Talia Rogers. I’m Jeanie Wilmington. So you’re not from around here, huh? Where are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Back east,” I answer, giving no specifics.
“Very nice. And what made you decide to pick this part of the country?”
“I’m taking a gap year before college, Ma’am,” I lie. “To ski… and see the country.”
“That’s great. My daughterwas itching to take a gap year but decided against it when she was accepted at her first choice of college.” She looks down my body again, studying me again. “Do you have any restaurant or hardware experience? Or any experience cleaning motel rooms?”
Removing my sunglasses and pulling the scarf from my head, I give her an eager smile. I want her to see the sincerity in my eyes and the resolveon my face. “I really don’t have much experience, Mrs. Wilmington, except for doing chores at home. But if you’re open to giving me a chance, you’ll see that I’m hard working… and I learn really quickly, Ma’am.”
“Hmmm.” She looks me up and down again, then smiles. “I suppose there’s no harm giving you a shot. How about you follow me in your car so you can meet my husband and see the place?It’ll give you an idea of the work that’s involved, and where you’ll stay.”
“I took the bus,” I blurt out the blatant lie, then I take a second to form my thoughts and come up with something more believable to explain why I have no car, no clothes, no ID, nothing. “Ma’am, to be honest, I kind of left home in a bit of a hurry. I was having a difficult time…my home situation was… tough.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry to hear that, Talia.” She reaches an arm across my shoulder warmly, and I recoil slightly. And Mrs. Wilmington notices. My blood runs cold from her simple touch before I can think about how I should react. Trying to downplay my reaction, I lift my scarf back up onto my head and slip on the sunglasses. Already, I hate what being taken, probably drugged, and cagedup like an animal has done to me. “I didn’t mean to scare you. God knows you’ve probably been through so much already. Too much... Believe you me, I can understand what that must be like. My dearest friend, Sarah-Jean from back in high school, well, she had to run away from home more than a few times. She didn’t have it easy, with both her folks on and off painkillers, alcohol, and God knowswhat else. My parents let her stay with us as long as she needed. But that’s beside the point…” She stops and clicks the remote car key in her other hand, pointing it at a gray Chevy Silverado pickup truck to unlock her vehicle. “We’ll figure the rest out once you’ve had some food to eat, and a decent night’s sleep. You look exhausted, darling. Sound good?”
I nod and try to smile. “It does,Mrs. Wilmington. Thank you. I really appreciate your kindness.”
“Great. Let’s get you home.”
A pang of fear and uncertainty comes over me again as we cross the road and approach her truck. Should I really do this? Is this my best option right now? Is it a good idea to potentially put my life at risk again by trusting a stranger? Just getting into her car is causing a mini panic attackin my chest, let alone the idea of living and working alongside her and her husband.
Time and fate, and coincidence, however, don’t allow me to give those questions much airtime. In the few seconds that I’m standing near the front of her vehicle, waiting for her to click and unlock the passenger side door, a glint of light reflecting against metal catches my eye, and I turn in time to seea big, black SUV with dark tinted windows flip on its indicator light and turn into the gas station. Two massive walls of men covered in ink step out of the back doors, visibly looking for something… or someone. My fight or flight instincts go into overdrive at the sight of them wearing t-shirts, black leather motorcycle vests, and dusty jeans, and one of them has a handgun tucked into the waistbandof his jeans. As their arms are covered in tattoos, I can't help but assume the worst.
It’s them.
My captors.
They’re here and they’re looking for me.
I don’t hesitate. I hop into the passenger side of Mrs. Wilmington’s pickup truck and I keep my head facing forward. Maybe she really is the solution to my current problem. The men looking for me are searching for onegirl all by herself, not a girl accompanied by a middle-aged woman who might be her mother.
For now, sticking with her is the only way out of here.
