Page 6 of Gator

Lifting the two heavy bags, she walked down the back staircase and toward her small car. She knew that they wouldn’t hear her starting the vehicle. The windows had all been made to block sound at her uncle’s request. Now, she knew why.

The only stop she made was the bank ATM, removing as much as she could with her card. Then she stopped for coffee and kept moving. In Maryland, she pulled over to another ATM and took out more cash.

She drove until her eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer. Worried that he could be tracking her cell phone, she stopped at a store and purchased a new one with a new number. She called her friend in New Orleans but didn’t tell him everything, only that she would be there sooner than expected.

When she walked back out to her car, she saw a small device beneath the wheel well, the red light blinking at her. He’d put a tracker on her car. She gripped the device and pulled it off, then looked beneath the car. Not seeing another, she tossed the device then drove the car to a used car lot.

Making a trade that was definitely in the favor of the car dealership, she drove off the lot in a small used Jeep. She drove the Jeep until she got to Kentucky, then traded it to another dealer for another Jeep.

By the time she reached New Orleans, she was exhausted. Mike knew something was wrong but led her to his spare bedroom.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Dyl?”

“I-I can’t,” she said, shaking her head.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for her, but she jerked away. Mike knew. There was something in his gut telling him that things had gone wrong back home. He saw the bruises along her jaw line and frowned.

“Dylan, did he touch you?” She nodded, then began crying. It didn’t seem to stop. Her whole body shook with the memories as Mike rocked her back and forth. His partner, Toban, came into the room with a cup of tea, sitting on the other side of the bed.

“Oh, sweetie, you have to stop, or you’re going to make yourself sick,” he said. “We should get you to a clinic so they can do a rape kit and maybe give you the morning-after pill or something.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I took a shower. A long one, and it’s been four days. I don’t think they could do anything.”

“Oh, honey,” said Mike. “Don’t worry. If he calls, we’ll deny having seen you.”

“I just want to sleep,” she said. They both nodded, leaving the room and turning off the lights. When they were back in the living room, Toban looked at Mike.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

“We’re going to keep her safe and be here for her. That’s what friends do. We’ll do what we were asked.”

CHAPTER THREE

Dylan gave birth to her son on a Friday morning. It was raining outside, as it had been for eight days now. She’d been wondering how she would feel when she looked at his face. Would she feel disgust? Hate? Indifference?

But seeing the head full of black hair like her own, his cute button nose, his sweet innocent face, she knew there was no other choice for her. This was her son.Hers. Not Hanz. She would raise him to be a good, sweet, honest young man.

Living in a small apartment outside the quarter, she took six weeks off from her job to get used to being a mom. She’d hired a nanny to care for Joey while she was at work and developed a solid routine.

When George and Sara approached her to work at their cafeteria and have her own cottage on a secure property, she knew it was going to change her life forever. Joey was almost five months old now and becoming his own little person.

Leaving Joey in the care of the nanny, she packed her apartment up and moved her things out to Belle Fleur.

“Are you all settled?” asked Sara.

“I think so,” she smiled. “I just have one more thing to get.”

“Oh, great, then we’ll meet later and talk about your plans for the cafeteria,” she said.

“Sara, there’s just one thing,” she started.

“Can we talk later?” asked Sara. “I’m sorry, but I have a bit of an emergency at the café and need to get up there.”

“Oh, sure. Of course.” Sooner or later, they were going to notice that Dylan had a baby on her hip. She hoped they wouldn’t fire her but had a feeling he’d be welcomed just like she was.

She returned the moving truck and picked up her Jeep, heading back to her apartment. When she opened the door, it was dark. That’s funny? She hadn’t scheduled the lights to be turned off until tomorrow.

“Hello? Graciella? Are you here?”

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