Page 71 of Small Town Hunter

Hauling the much lighter bag, I quit the motel and hike myself to the main road. The sun is blazing. I don’t care what Crash says, this place is very different from Tippalonga. They don’t even have a Dairy Queen which is unbelievable.

I wait by the overpass for a long time, twisting my hands together. I hope Crash is okay. I’m so worried.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

And then a rumble in the distance grows, and the black dot takes the shape of a tall man on a motorcycle. Something Jada told me earlier comes to mind.The Redhead Man got arrested for fighting racist bikers.

Bikers like the man who held me up in the store and said those crazy things.

I tense.

The bike zooms past and the road stays empty after him.

For a long, looooong time.

Just a few hours ago I was laying in Crash’s arms, listening to his strong heartbeat through his shirt. His arms held me and the whole time he stroked and stroked my hair, his fingers separating the curls.

“My darlin’,” he murmured, clearly thinking I was still asleep. I was– almost. His rumbling accent was like medicine. “All pretty and sweet. If I just had the chance…There’s no use wishing, is there?”

I had never laid with anybody like that in all my life. To do it with a man was nicer than anything I ever felt. Not any man, but the one I guess I had a crush on. Just to feel him solid and strong and warm beneath me. The feeling of being protected. Like he cared for me. He couldn’t be holding me like this and not care for me.

“I’m too broken for you, sugar,” he said real quiet into my hair.

I didn’t make a sound or give any sign I heard him. A tear leaked from my eye as I laid real still on his broad chest, listening to his deep breaths and the powerful beat of his heart. He was so deliciously warm and real and amazing. I didn’t think he was too broken for me. At least he had something to break. I had nothing. I was a speck of sand.

“You deserve better,” he said.

I wish I had picked my head up and told him it wasn’t true. But it seemed in that moment, laying up against him, I saw Crash more clearly than ever. I saw that if I shared my own feelings he would pull back. While I was safe in dreamland, he could whisper these tender things. To acknowledge the words in reality would be impossible. And I understood that he was a good man, but he was bound by duty and words of honor that he’d made before he ever met me. He would never let himself chase me because it went against his code.

Which was the devil of it. I wanted to cling to him even harder, because he was a man of principle. But I could do nothing for that same reason— I couldn’t make him a sinner like me.

Why did he run off in the middle of the night like he was ashamed?

He left for the redheaded man.All the shame is yours.

Crash is on a mission. A mission that has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with getting money for his custody case. While I’m here crying about myself, Crash is focused on #1— and on doing right by his baby. It’s not all about me.

If you don’t have Crash, what do you have?

He’s not on your team.

Look out for yourself.

And then the last treacherous thought hits me like a runaway train.

I could just go to California now.

Right now.

Thanks to Crash I have everything I need: money ($300 cash), clothes, and finally a cellphone.

Once I get to LA it won’t be that hard to find Mamie. You can find people anywhere. InUnsolved Mysteriesthey mentioned private detectives. I could get one myself. I’d stay in a hotel until they find her — not a Holiday Inn, but a small place like this one.

The idea is crazy, insane, foolish, but it takes hold of me and starts growing rapidly into a plan.

First I need to get out of Oklahoma. Number one. If I can do that, I can make it to California. The only way to get there is the road. I’ll hitchhike. I’ll hitchhike to a bus route. Or if I’m bold,all the way.

Sleeping at motels. Eating at gas stations. And so I don’t end up onUnsolved Mysteries, I could only take rides from women.

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