Page 18 of Tristano

I watch as a woman crawls onto the road in nothing but her birthday suit.

“What the hell,” I yell as I slam on the brakes.

The girl doesn’t even attempt to get out of the road. She just brings her hand up to her eyes to prevent my headlights from blinding her.

Coming to a stop, I throw the car in park and get out.

“Are you okay?”

The girl jerks away from me until she’s lying prone on her back, shivering as the rain pours down.

Beautiful brown eyes stared up at me from her prone position in the road. The rain pours on her face as she looks up at me with fear.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

“Help me,” the girl sobs out before screaming.

“Shhh. It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. I’ve got you. You can trust me.”

I don’t know if it’s the sound of my voice or what, but she calms down, staring up at me now like I might be God himself.

Turning from the girl, I head back to the truck. Digging around, I find the blanket my nonna insisted I start carrying when I started driving. Slowly I approach the woman.

My breath catches when I see she’s probably my age, if not a little younger. I hadn’t noticed that before. I lean down to lay the blanket on her but stop when she flinches.

Idiot. She’s clearly been through hell.

“I’m just going to cover you up, okay? I promise not to touch you without your permission.”

The girl nods.

“Can I help you get out of the middle of the road? Give you a ride somewhere?”

She gives me another small nod, not meeting my eyes.

Cautiously, I help her stand as she clutches the blanket around her body. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask what happened?” I ask as we walk toward my truck.

“I don’t know how it happened.” She shakes her head. “I was coming out of work the other night and someone hit me in the head from behind. When I came to, I was here.”

The words leave her in a rush, her body shaking violently against me. All I want to do is pull her in close and keep her warm and safe.

“Where is here?” I say as I look around.

With a shaky hand, she points over my shoulder toward the tree line. “There’s a farmhouse back there. He kept me locked up in the barn.”

“For how long?” I ask through clenched teeth as I help her into the passenger seat of my truck.

She frowns. “Three, maybe four days. He kept me tied up with a rope.” She holds up her battered wrists. “But tonight, after he r-raped me, he forgot to tighten my wrists back up and didn’t tie my feet together at all. I waited until he fell asleep and then ran.”

“Good job, principessa. Off we go,” I say as I shut the door.

As I round the back of the truck, my hands shake. The girl has clearly gone through a hell no one should ever have to live through. Taking a deep breath, I get into the truck and turn it on. “Where are you from?”

“Jersey City.”

“Lucky for you, that’s where I’m going,” I lie.

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