Page 58 of Small Town Hunter

Humiliation stings.

“What if I don’t care?” I blurt.

“You’re confused,” he says harshly. “It’s understandable. They never let you do shit. They never told you shit. You ain’t experienced; you’re a babe in the woods. I ain’t the type to takeadvantage, even for one pretty as you. Besides, we’ve had some to drink. It’s all fucked up, understand?”

I’m not that drunk.

“Don’t trust how you feel,” he says.

“You don’t know how I feel,” I mumble. But he’s painfully right.

And painfully wrong.

I’veneverfelt this way about anybody. It’s not just the whole messed up situation. He thinks this is like Stockholm Syndrome or something. But I know it’s not just that. It’s his sense of humor, the way we can talk about anything, the way he doesn’t judge me— too much— for being the way I am. He likes to be around me, I know he does. And I feel the same. How can I just let go of that?

“You wanted it too,” I accuse suddenly. “Didn’t you?”

His eyes narrow. “Get in the vehicle.”

The pain of rejection is like a slap in the face.

“Maybe that’s the reason she’s on drugs,” I say wildly. “Your wife. Because you’re not giving it to her like a man! Maybe— maybe you’re a homosexual.”

Crash’s eyes burn with fury. “Hold that venom, or I swear to God you can walk your ass to Los Angeles,” he says in a voice that shuts me up right away. He opens my door and I get in.

We don’t speak for the whole drive back.

Back at themotel Crash lets me take the bed and sleeps on the floor with nothing, not even a pillow.

“Your back will hurt,” I tell him.

“It’s fine.”

Actually, it’sveryawkward. I huddle under the blankets. Visions flash behind my eyes of our heated kiss, but his hurtful words play over and over in my mind.

Walk your ass to Los Angeles. Hold that venom.

Too innocent.He meant to say,too immature.

I deserved that. My behavior was unacceptable. I forced him to kiss me, not the other way around. I said terrible things to him.

It’s late— almost midnight. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow. He needs to go back to Virginia, but where does that leave me? We never came to an agreement about that.

If little Trina has no money and no ID, how many cocks does she have to suck to get out of Oklahoma?

Crash’s phone rings; he gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear him talking quietly with somebody, then he comes back out and goes back to the floor.

My stomach turns over.

I climb out of bed and bolt to the bathroom. I lock the door and turn on the tap so Crash doesn’t hear me puking into the toilet. After, I feel a lot better. I brush my teeth and step out, nearly running into the wall-sized man sharing the room with me.

“You alright?” He asks gently.

“I’m never drinking again,” I tell him.

“Good,” he says. He runs a towel under hot water and wipes down my face and neck.

“Thanks.”

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