Page 2 of Single Mom's Mountain Men
Through the dirty glass windows, I spot someone reading a magazine who doesn’t look up when we drive in, even though we’re the only car in the gas station.
I pull to a stop in front of one of the self-service pumps, releasing a sigh, and then as I hear the girls reach for the door handle I shout, “Wait!”
They both freeze.
I glance out the window, scanning the empty roads as though waiting for a boogey man to pop out. I’ve been periodically looking through my rear-view mirror as we drove, making sure no black Chevy Suburbans are following us.
The Suburbans are the vehicles my ex's men use, hence my constant lookout for them. My ex himself – Keegan – drives a silver Mercedes S class sedan, so I check out for those as well, even though I’m not expecting to see him. He’s generally far too lazy to do his own dirty work, preferring to leave it to one or more of his paid henchmen to perform on his behalf.
While driving and just as an extra safety measure, I ensure that I don’t see the same car following us for too long a stretch. If I do I pull over and let it go by, then wait ten minutes before continuing. That said, I am pretty sure Keegan isn't looking for us yet. He probably has his hands full with the FBI raid going on at the house. Plus, I have deliberately left my phone, my credit cards, and everything else he could use to track me, including one or two pieces of jewelry that I am certain he’s put embedded trackers in. He thinks I don't know about those. Keegan thinks I am an idiot just because I came from a poor family and never went to college or got my GED.
But this ‘idiot’ just played a key role in bringing down his empire.
This idiot also used her credit card to buy flights to Seattle, Washington and reserved a room at a large and busy hotel in the area, laying a false trail to delay him for hopefully at least a little while.
Either way, I know Jeremy is probably not going to be looking for me around here quite yet. But I can't be too sure. I can’t let my guard down yet, not until I’m sure we’re safe.
Although, I’m not even sure what ‘safe’ would look like at this point.
I scan the roads once more, heart racing, my vision a little blurry at the edges. That’s not a good sign. My paranoia combined with the heat nearly causes a mirage of a blackSuburban, but when I blink it’s gone. Still, I ask my girls, “You girls don’t see any cars on the road right?’
“Cars?" Maddie cranes her head and looks.
“There are no cars, Mom,” Katie says.
“Alright. Good. You guys can get out, but stay close to me okay?"
They both nod and I sigh in relief. They’re such good girls. Even in times like this, where they could be making things more difficult for me they’re being as obedient and patient as they can be.
My precious daughters.
I’ll protect you with everything I have. He’ll never get the chance to touch you again.
I open my door and put my feet on the ground before stepping out, but almost immediately my legs almost crumple under me. My hip slams into the door, and my knee bumps the ground as I hook my elbow on the window frame to prevent myself from falling completely.
“Mom!” Katie yells as she and Maddie run to me.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I say, forcing my stiff legs to work again. They obey me, albeit shakily and I straighten up. "I guess my legs just fell asleep." Another poor sign. It seems that my exhaustion is vehemently fighting the effects of the coffee and it might win any time soon. I need to find a place where I can rest at least for a few hours before we continue our journey. The last thing I want to do is to fall asleep at the wheel and endanger my girls.
“Really, I’m fine,” I say to Katie’s worried gaze and put on my best smile as I slide my hands over her head. Maddie holds her hands up, a clear sign that she wants to be carried due to her anxiety from watching me fall. But I don’t think I can manage it without keeling over right now, so I simply smile again and take her hand instead, squeezing it incomfort. I take Katie’s hand too and we walk across the forecourt to the gas station shop, where the clerk is now staring at us through the glass.
I guess my fall got her attention.
A bell tinkles cheerily as Katie pushes the door open and it closes behind us. The station smells a little like oil and gasoline, mixed with cheap lavender air freshener. I smile at the clerk, trying not to let my exhaustion show.
“Hello,” I say. “I wanted to get gas and some snacks.”
“How much gas?” she asks, peering at me closely.
I shrug. I’m not sure how much as I glance out the window at the sign showing the gas prices. Three-twenty per gallon. Not bad.
“Give me twenty dollars.”
She turns to her computer and rings that up first. I turn to my daughters. “You girls can go pick up whatever you want.”
“Do they have hot dogs?” Maddie asks.
I cringe. It's a bad time to tell Maddie no, but I would hate for my daughter to fall sick after eating a poorly cooked or out-of-date hot dog from a random gas station, but to my relief, the clerk shakes her head.
