Page 4 of Sinner's Malice

“Eighteen.”

Tracy sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair. “Mr. Scott will not be happy.”

“Does Mr. Scott do this often? I mean, rescue young girls and bring them to his hotel room?”

Tracy smirked. “No, Miss. You are the first.”

“He should have just left me to die out there.”

“No, Arianwen. Don’t ever say that. Life is precious. Rest, heal, and gain your strength. You survived to live another day. Don’t let what happened stop you from living the life you deserve.”

Unsure what to say to that, I simply nodded, picked up the fork, and ate.

Over the next few days, I slept a lot.

My body was sore, and by day three, I looked really awful. Black, blue, yellow, and green from head to toe, Tracy assured me I was healing. That I just needed to give my body time. The only problem with that was my time was running out. I didn’t know how much longer I would be permitted to remain in this hotel room, and while I was eternally grateful for Mr. Scott and his generosity, I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.

The packages Tracy told me about on the first day were clothes. Two new pairs of jeans, three T-shirts, and a brand-new pair of chucks. Along with a sports bra, panties, and a new backpack to carry it all; it seemed that Mr. Scott had thoughtof everything. I even found five grand at the bottom of the backpack.

Mr. Scott ensured I had everything I needed to start over.

The problem with starting over was I had no idea where I would go or what I would do. I never finished school. My mother sold me to Boris Petrovich when I was thirteen to pay off her debts. I could fuck, give a blow job, and be anyone’s punching bag, but that was where my training ended. I didn’t even have a birth certificate or social security card. The only thing I was sure of was I couldn’t return to California. Not with him still alive and well. So, on my last night in the hotel, I came to a decision. There was only one place on this planet I would be safe from Petrovitch, and that was in New York City. I was sure of it because I knew Petrovitch never stepped foot there. He avoided the place like the plague.

With Tracy’s help, she secured me a Greyhound Bus ticket and even went with me to say goodbye. I’d never had a friend before, but in my brief stay at the hotel, she’d become just that.

“You’ve got my number, Arianwen. Call me when you get settled.”

“I will.”

Looking around at the passengers boarding the large bus, she sighed. “Are you sure about this? The Big Apple is a scary place for someone as young as you.”

“No scarier than what’s behind me.”

“I wish you would stay with me and my husband. We would love to have you.”

“I can’t. I do that and I’d be putting you both in danger. I need to go.”

Tracy sighed again. “Alright. You’ve made up your mind and I won’t try to change it. You have everything? Your ticket, clothes, the cell phone I got you?”

“Yep.” I smiled, tugging on my backpack. “All safe and secure.”

“Don’t tell anyone you have cash on you. Not all people are nice. Trust no one. When you get to the city, use that list I gave you to find someplace to stay. Nothing too expensive, but something you can afford. That money won’t last forever, so find yourself a good job. Restaurants, hotels, even a grocery store will do. Understand?”

I nodded, hearing the driver yell, “Last call for New York City!”

“I’ve got my list, and everything is written down. I won’t forget.”

Giving me a warm hug, Tracy flashed me a sad smile. “You better go find a seat.”

Waving goodbye to the woman, I stepped onto the bus, brushing away a lone tear. I didn’t know it was going to be so hard to say goodbye to her. Finding a seat, I leaned against the window and stared at her while the bus slowly pulled away from the terminal. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever see Tracy again.

Cold and starving, I watched as a man threw a bag into the large dumpster behind the warehouse. I’d been in the city for close to a month now and Tracy was right. The money Mr. Scott gave me barely lasted a week. The motel room I paid a week for locked me out of my room the second I left, saying the I.D. I gave them was fake. When I told them I wanted my money back, the asshole told me to get lost or he would call the police. Not wanting to go into the system, or worse, get deported back to Wales, I left. The worst part was that all my clothes were in myroom. That night, I slept on the streets for the first time, only to wake up to find my backpack gone.

I had nothing.

No money.

No phone.

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