Page 26 of Tripp

He pulled into the parking lot of a raunchy, rundown motel. I can’t tell you what was in that white bag he was pulling from the truck, but I had a few ideas. I could guarantee you that my phone and dash cam caught the woman that opened the door. She was wearing nothing but a bra and panties.

The wife’s suspicions were confirmed. He was cheating, but not with a friend, neighbor, or coworker. Oh no, this bastard was using the oldest profession known to man to get his dick wet.

I sure hoped this visit was worth him losing his wife and kids.

I waited and slid out of the truck once he’d been in there for a little bit. I walked to the main office. Inquired about their rates and then slipped back out so I could snap a pic of the car’s front plate.

I pretended to be on my phone when I did it. Keeping up the charade, I went to the soda machine and popped in some change. I pressed the button for a Big Red soda. A few others pulled up and headed into the office, so I headed back to the truck.

I couldn’t afford to get caught out here.

For two hours, I sat outside this dang hotel, burning up in the Texas heat. The sun said, ‘Hey, I’m here to party,’ then got drunk and passed out, cooking us all.

I had my windows cracked and a battery-operated fan that was doing a good job of blowing cool air, but the outside weather was drawing it right out.

Finally, the room door opened. When he came out, he scanned the parking lot and hurried to his truck. I stayed where I was, not moving until he was turning out of the parking lot.

Slowly, I crept out of the lot and checked the roads. I watched as he stopped at our very own ‘Laundr-o-mat.’ He took the white bag in with him.

I wanted a closer look, so I clipped on a small pen camera and climbed out. I’d just walk by and see what he was doing.

I made a mistake though. I was so wrapped up in catching him doing whatever it was that he was doing, that I wasn’t watching my own surroundings.

I knew better. Really I did. No matter where I was, I should see who and what was around me.

It wasn’t until the man passed me that I actually saw him. He spun on his heel, a hand reaching out for me.

“Well, if it’s not the sniveling little bitch herself.”

I jerked my hand free. “Fuck off, Manny.”

My heart was racing so hard in my chest, I was sure he could see it from where he stood a few feet away. I had to play it cool. I didn’t know anything about him.

Fuck!

I walked away from him, trying to find a store I could go in. There wasn’t much over here. The motel was down the street, but I’d not make it that far.

I was hit from behind, his body slamming me into the side of the building. My head bounced off the wall, but it was my shoulder that screamed in pain. The uneven pieces dug into my exposed skin.

“You thought you could get away that easily?”

I bucked, fighting his hold. “Get off!”

“You thought I was going to let it go, didn’t you?”

“I don’t answer to you!” My voice cracked. Pain, fear—all the emotions swamping me made it hard to think.

“Oh, but you do.” He ran his nose along my neck. Bile rose up, my stomach churning. “You thought he would keep me away?” His grip tightened on my arm. “I’m going to gut him in front of you. You’ll watch him bleed out before I make you pay for leaving.” He was pressing against me, his excitement evident.

I wanted to throw up.

“I’ve been watching you. You naughty girl, spying on people.” The tsk-tsk that followed had memories flooding me. That was how it had started in the beginning. He’d tell me that I’d done something wrong, cluck his tongue or tsk at me, and walk off. It had escalated. Each time getting worse and worse.

I was not going to be a victim again. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him break me down.

“You’re watching me…you’re…no better.”

“I know where you live. That little house can’t keep me out.”

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