Page 11 of Riggs
I don't question him as he grabs my arm and ushers me down the hall, through the kitchen and out the door that leads to the garage where I see a car. I swiftly climb into the back seat where Detective Morgan gives me the signal to lay down. Jumping into the driver's seat, he shifts the car in reverse, where we swiftly peel out of the garage. Bile rises in my throat when I feel shattered glass hit my back. I throw my arms over my head, tucking further into myself.
Taking a chance, I peek up toward the front of the car to see an arm raised over my head as Detective Morgan effectively uses his left hand to steer while he fires several shots out of the rear window of the car toward whoever is behind us. When I feel myself start to panic, I close my eyes and begin counting backward from one thousand in my head. This is a method I have used to calm myself since I was a child. I do my best to center myself and concentrate on my breathing. By the time I reach 157, I feel the car come to a stop.
Lifting my head, I see Detective Morgan exit the vehicle. He pulls open the passenger door and motions for me to get out. Noticing my frazzled state, he grabs my arm and helps me. Looking around at my surroundings, I notice we are behind a gas station.
On wobbly legs, I'm led to another car. Sliding into the front seat, I buckle up. When we pull back out onto the main road, Detective Morgan retrieves his phone from his suit jacket. I see his mouth moving, but I'm unable to make out what he is saying. Ending the call, he tucks the phone into his pocket then looks over at me. "It's going to be okay."
Roughly thirty-two hours later and I'm passing a sign that reads Polson City Limits. Detective Brooks and Detective Morgan are escorting me to a different safe house. This one is hundreds of miles away from Arizona and from the Savage Outlaw. After the safe house was compromised and Savage Outlaw once again tried to shut me up permanently, Detective Brooks informed me she got in touch with an old friend who works at a place called New Hope House in Polson, Montana. There is a woman named Sofia Torres who runs the home.
New Hope is a place for women who are needing to escape their old lives and wanting a fresh start. In my case I don't need a new life, I just need a place to hide. Pulling up in front of a coffee shop, Detective Morgan puts the car in park, and the three of us step out. Detective Brooks turns to me. "We are meeting my friend Dr. Kendrick. She's a therapist who works at New Hope House."
I give her a slight nod, and the three of us make our way into the shop — the bell over the door chimes, alerting the woman standing behind the counter to our arrival. The young woman behind the counter offers us a warm smile then says something to Detective Brooks who answers her back as she points to her right where a woman whom I assume is Dr. Kendrick is sitting at a table.
Walking up to the table, Dr. Kendrick stands and hugs Detective Brooks. The two exchange a few words before she turns her attention to me. "Hi, Luna. I'm Dr. Kendrick. It's nice to meet you."
I pull out my small notepad and pen from my hoodie pocket.It's nice to meet you too. Thank you for agreeing to help me.
Over the next hour, the four of us discuss the details of my stay at New Hope. I found out before the decision was made to come to Montana that the judge scheduled Rex's trial date six months from now. With Savage Outlaw gunning for me, the best thing was for me to get the hell out of dodge. Once the game plan has been hashed out, we exit the coffee shop and go about gathering my things and transferring them from one car to the other. When Detective Morgan pops the trunk to his car, I'm shocked to see everything of mine that I left at the safe house is here. I turn to him, and he winks. He knows how important my art stuff is to me. I'm lost without my canvases and paints.
Once my things are loaded, I part ways with Detective Brooks and Detective Morgan. They both promise to keep me and Dr. Kendrick updated on all the happenings with Rex and the trial. The drive to New Hope House is quick and it's late afternoon when we arrive. The moment we park I don't waste any time climbing out and walking around to the trunk where I begin pulling my things out the same moment Dr. Kendrick steps up to help. She makes it a point to look directly at me when she speaks. "You'll like it here. Sofia is very kind."
With my hands full, I offer a small smile and follow her inside the house where she leads me through the living room and down the hall to a bedroom. Placing my bags on the bed, I grab my notebook.Thank you.
"You're welcome," she replies. "I think Sofia is about to make dinner. Would you like to join her and Emma? I know they both are anxious to meet you."
I'm not hungry. Would it be okay if I just settle in and get some rest?
Dr. Kendrick gives me a look of understanding. "Sure. Get some rest and make yourself at home. I'll stop by in the morning to see how you are doing. I'll let Sofia know you are turning in for the night. Her room is just across the hall if you need anything. She would want you to make yourself at home while you're here."
Thank you for everything.
Luckily Dr. Kendrick didn't take offense to my wanting to be alone, and hopefully, Sofia and Emma won't either. The way Dr. Kendrick speaks of Sofia she sounds like a good person, but I'm just not ready to socialize yet. This past week has been a whirlwind. I haven't had a chance to wrap my head around everything that has taken place. Witnessing my now ex-boyfriend murder someone, him trying to kill me, me finding out Rex is not who I thought he was and now his club coming after me at the safe house is not exactly what I had in mind for my life. I've been completely uprooted from my home, from everything I know, taken out of my comfort zone and dropped in the middle of nowhere Polson Montana. To say I am overwhelmed to the point of exhaustion is an understatement.
Deciding I want to get lost in my head a bit and forget the world around me; I set my easel up in front of the bedroom window next to a chair sitting there and place a blank canvas on it. Next, I dig through my bags until I locate my paints. Sitting on the chair, I let my mind drift while my hands go to work.
Painting is something I discovered when I was twelve. I took an art class at school and became addicted to it the moment the paintbrush touched my hand. I've had numerous people tell me I'm good at it, and I should be selling my art, but I don't paint to make money. I paint because I love it and it centers me. Painting is like breathing for me. It's like my therapy. I think if painting became my job, I wouldn't enjoy it as much. I view it as something just for me. I have no desire to share my work with the world. Gazing out the window at the mesmerizing Montana sunset, I watch as the sun begins to disappear behind the mountain. With my inspiration in front of me, I continue with soft strokes as I fill the blank canvas with shades of orange and purple as I leave my troubles behind. At least for tonight.
* * *
The next morning,I wake feeling a little better about my situation. I need to make the most of my temporary home. Dressing in a pair of black leggings and a sweater, I open the bedroom door and peak out. I don't see anyone, so with my toiletry bag in hand I find the bathroom down the hall. Once I have taken care of business, I store my bag in the cabinet across from the sink. Stepping out of the bathroom, I make my way into the kitchen and find a woman with long brown hair standing at the sink. Spinning around, she looks stunned for a moment then offers me a smile. This woman seems to be somewhere around my age, has a glowing olive complexion and beautiful brown eyes. Wiping her hands clean on a towel, her face lights up as she introduces herself. "Hi. Nice to finally meet you. I'm Sofia."
For a second, I forget she doesn't know sign language, and I begin to sign. I feel bad when I see her face fall. Retrieving my notebook from the pocket of my sweater, I glide the pen across the paper.Good morning. Sorry for not introducing myself last night. My name is Luna.
"That's okay. I get it. New place and all. Would you like some coffee?"
I would love some.
Sofia motions toward the table for me to take a seat. After fixing the drink, she places the steaming mug in front of me. "What do you like in your coffee?" she asks.
I like it cold — milk, sugar, and ice.
Sofia goes about gathering the fixings for my coffee then places them on the table. She then lightly touches my shoulder. "Will you be okay until Dr. Kendrick comes by? I have to go to work."
At the mention of her leaving, I cut my eyes toward the French door where I see several men working in the yard. The house appears to be under construction. "Don't worry. They are not allowed to enter the house, and I promise I will lock the doors."
Feeling uneasy, I write.How long will you be gone?
"Not long. I promise. And there are only five people outside this house that have the code to get in here." Sofia assures, and I slump in my seat, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I am looking at her again.Sorry,I tell her.
