Page 40 of Small Town Hunter

Sex before marriage is a sin, so I avoided men for my own purity and protection. Of course I was always around them in church, but I really kept to myself most of the time, busy in my garden.

And now I’m in a motel room with Crash, a man I just met two days ago.

He’s exactly how I picture King David from the Bible, with that dark curly hair and brown eyes and tanned skin.

I remind myself that these thoughts are sinful.

“Crash?”

He looks up. His eyes are actually green, not brown. With the longest eyelashes ever.

“What?”

“Are you Italian?”

“No.” He turns back to his map.

“What are you–”

“I’m busy, Trina.”

Well.

I sigh and flop back on the bed. I’m bored as a devil, but at least this motel is comfortable. Better than the last one. And nobody can find us here, so far from Tippalonga. Nobody knows where I am.

Something draws tight in my chest. Nobody knows where I am. For the very first time in my life, I’m completely alone.

I could be dead. Would Mama even care if I was? She always treated me like a burden— somebody to take the heat off herself when Papa was in a rage. As for my father, he mostly ignored me. His orders were always given to me through Mama — and ironclad.

My older brother Jermaine and I don’t talk. Growing up he did anything he wanted. He was a menace and made my life hell. He used to hit me and spit on me. I was so happy when he married that white girl and moved to Little Rock.

Out of my whole family I’ll really only miss my cousin Cynthia and her son Levi, whose birthday is in three days. I wonder if I’ll ever see them again.

When somebody leaves the church, it’s forever.

To distract myself, I flick through the channels and stop on a program called UNSOLVED MYSTERIES.

“Have you ever heard of this?” I ask Crash. The scary title sequence sends goosebumps up my arms. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV unless it was church related. But I used to watch horror movies at my friend Gina’s house sometimes before she left town.

Crash leans back in his chair to catch the TV screen. “Unsolved Mysteries…My wife watches that,” he comments.

I forget how to breathe. The word feels like a blow. He’s got awife?

Disappointment rocks me. Of course, a man as handsome as Crash would have a wife. Probably kids. I bet his wife is a blonde southern belle who can fit a size two. I just know that’s his type. Bitter green jealousy surges in me and I’m glad he isn’t looking at my face.

I wonder what being Crash’s wife is like. She can kiss him any time she wants. Maybe he pushes her lips with his thumb the same way he does to me.

Maybe…maybe he does more than that.

Stop it.

After an houror so Crash gets up from his computer and stretches noisily, raising the hem of his shirt. I try not to look, to be modest, but my eyes are drawn to the flatness of his stomach and his firm abs, the loose button on his jeans. I still can’t believe I’m sharing a room with a strange man. I can’t believe this is my life.

I swallow hard. The worst things come into my mind whenever I look at Crash.

He rolls out his shoulders and winces.

“What’s wrong?”

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