Page 6 of Do Not Disturb
It wasn’t until after we were husband and wife that everything changed.
Derek had been shopping for a new bank, but in retrospect, what he really had been shopping for was a wife. He took one look at me and decided I fit the bill. I still don’t know what it was about me that drew him to me. Or maybe it was all just dumb luck. Maybe if he had sat in front of Melody’s desk, she would be the one now speeding toward the state line.
I wish it could have been different. I wish Derek had been the man he promised to be. Or better yet, I wish I had listened to Claudia and stayed the hell away from him.
But it’s too late now. I have no choice but to play with the cards I’ve been dealt.
Chapter Four
The gas tank is just about empty. There are usually twelve dots on the gas gauge, and I’m down to the last dot. I don’t know how long one dot will last, and I don’t want to know. I need to get some gas—now.
I’ve been on the highway for about half an hour, and I look for signs for the next rest stop. I’m looking for the smaller signs—the stops where almost nobody gets off, where I’m least likely to be spotted. Not that I think anybody is looking for me yet, but I don’t know for sure.
When I see the sign for Rocco’s Gas Station, I pull off the highway. When I drive into the two pump station, I’m relieved to see it’s exactly what I’m looking for. A quiet little self-service station with a tiny store attached and an elderly man sitting at the counter. There’s only one other car at the station—a gray pickup truck that looks like it’s seen better days.
I park my car at the remaining pump and pop the lid for the gas tank. I zip up my black coat and throw on my hood, then step out into the cold. Droplets of freezing rain immediately smack me in the face. I barely feel it though. I’m not feeling much of anything anymore.
You’ve made a fool out of me for the last time, Quinn.
I can hear his last words so loudly, it’s like he is speaking in my ear. I can’t stop imagining Derek coming at me. The rage on his face. He was convinced I was cheating on him, even though I never looked at another man. I was too scared to eventalkto another man. Once Derek came to see me at the bank, and he “caught” me talking to an attractive male client—he was beyond furious about it that night. It didn’t help that Derek himself had once been my client. Ever since then, I tried to send any male customers who weren’t elderly over to one of my coworkers.
But I’m safe now. He can’t get to me.
Never again.
I insert my credit card, select regular, and fill up my tank. This will be the last time I use my credit card. There’s an ATM in the gas station store, and I’m going to take out as much money as it will let me. Then that’s it. I’m going off the grid.
After my tank is full, I look into the store. That old man is still behind the counter, and the owner of the truck is moving around inside the store. I dig into my pocket and pull out my cell phone. I keep my eyes on the store as I drop the phone into the back of a pickup truck, below a blue tarp. I don’t know if anyone can track me with my phone, but if they do, they’ll track me to wherever this guy is going. Maybe that will buy me some time.
The first thing I see when I get into the store is the television monitor set up behind the counter. The old man is watching it to entertain himself. It’s tuned in to the local news.
“Lousy weather we’re having, eh?” the old man says. There’s a glob of drool in the corner of his mouth.
I offer him a ghost of a smile. “Yes…”
I stand there for a moment, trying to decide if I should take my hood off or not. The hood conceals my hair and some of my face. But then again, I don’t want him to remember me as the lunatic walking around with a furry hood on indoors. After a moment of deliberation, I leave it on.
There are some sandwiches set up in a refrigerated area, but I don’t know about eating egg salad from the gas station store. This egg salad might be older than I am. Instead, I stick with grabbing a few packs of trail mix and nutrition bars. Then I see a pack of cheese puffs. I love cheese puffs. I don’t think I’ve eaten any processed snacks in the last two years. Derek kept a close eye on what I ate.
Stuffing your face again, Quinn? You’re getting pretty chunky.
During dinner with some friends of his, he became enraged when I ordered a chocolate mousse for dessert. He marched me to the bathroom scale when we got home, and after that, we did regular weigh-ins. He would write the number each week in a little notebook. As I would step on the scale, I would hold my breath, knowing if my weight was even a pound higher than last week, he would go out of his mind.
I put back the trail mix and nutrition bars. Instead, I grab the cheese puffs and a pack of Oreos. To hell with Derek. He’s dead anyway.
Before I pay for my purchases, I hit the ATM. My fingers are shaking as I type in my PIN number. The upper limit on withdrawals is only two hundred dollars. Not enough, although it will have to be. Dammit.
As I’m pulling out my cash, I feel a pair of eyes on my back. I glance behind me—it’s a guy around twenty-five who’s nearly a foot taller than me with arms and legs like tree trunks. He’s probably the owner of the pickup truck. He flashes me a smile, and I nod as imperceptibly as I can.
I go to the refrigerator and grab a couple of bottles of water, but I still feel his eyes on my back. Derek was always accusing men of staring at me, but I’m wearing a big puffy coat and my hood is on. Why is he looking at me?
I don’t need this right now. I need to get out of the store and back on the road.
I’m juggling my water and snacks as I make my way to the counter. The large man follows me, his boots squishing as they make wet footprints on the ground. This time I don’t turn to look at him.
I dump all my purchases on the counter. And I grab a couple of Twix bars for good measure. I’ll pay with my credit card this one last time. I already used it at the gas station, so I might as well.
“That all?” the old man behind the counter asks me.
