Chapter Four

Things go from bad to worse when I twist the key to my car. Nothing happens. The engine doesn’t even turn over. I squeeze my hands on the old leather steering wheel like it can feel my tension.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Don’t bail on me now.”

I got the car down in Wyoming for five hundred dollars flat. That included the stolen plates. It’s done well for me, but I don’t have the money to get it fixed. I can’t afford to stick around, either.

Light flashes off metal from the truck parking lot, around the side of the Last Stop. Most of the diners who come through are truckers. Either that or they work in the logging station about a mile down the road. All of them look rough and dangerous. Maybe that was my mistake, ending up in a place without many women. I stand out even though I keep my head down.

I step out of the car and lift up the hood as if I know anything about cars. I could bake a pie or recite all twelve-thousand words in the Book of Job. That’s the skill set you get growing up in Harmony Hills. The first time I tried to use a microwave, I started a fire because I’d put tin foil inside.

The crunch of boots on the brittle ground makes me stiffen.

“What’s wrong, little girl?”

“Nothing.”

There must be some kind of sixth sense men have when a woman is desperate. They come out of the woodwork like they were just waiting for the signal. Another man approaches us, his gait unsteady enough to tell me he’s flat drunk. As he passes under the single parking lot lamp, I get a good look at his face. Jimmy John. Two names, just like that. He works at the logging station. The other man, I’m guessing he’s got a rig.

I get enough crude offers every night bussing tables to know what either of these men would want in exchange for a ride to my apartment. It’s easy to say no. I’ve had enough of men’s desire to last a lifetime. Less easy to make sure they respect my answer.

“Looks to me like you’ve got yourself in a bit of trouble,” says Jimmy John.

“My boyfriend’s on the way.” This is one of the few times in my life I wish I had a man around. A man like Luca Almanzar, who could pound any one of these men into the pavement. And how long would it have taken for him to turn his fists on me?

The first man steps back. That’s how things work around here. You don’t touch a woman unless you want a fight with her man. A woman alone is fair game. There’s a reason this place is called the Last Stop. We’re far from civilization now.

Jimmy John smiles, his gold tooth glinting in the moonlight. “Now, darling. I’ve seen you in here every night for two months. You ain’t never mentioned a boyfriend before. You wouldn’t be lying to Jimmy John, now would you?”

My voice only shakes a little on the lie. “Fine, you go ahead and wait around. See what happens when he gets here. But he’s got a temper. I should know.”

His eyes narrow. “All right. I’ll just be waiting over there. We’ll see who shows up, then, won’t we?”

Both men head over to the front of the building, gone dark now after 4 a.m. I don’t know whether Angelica’s inside, but if I looked for her, I’d prove there’s no boyfriend. And then we’d both be in trouble. Besides, I’ll have to pass them to get to the door.

Men with too much to drink, too much desire. I’ve learned not to provoke them.

I make a show of pulling out my phone, as if I’m checking for a call from my boyfriend. The truth is I ran out of minutes on my prepaid months ago. It hasn’t been a priority, not with the high gas bill keeping the apartment warm.

My apartment is within walking distance. Maybe I’d make it there before they catch me.

Maybe not.

Cold air whistles through the seams in my jacket. I bought this at a thrift shop in Oregon. It can’t do much against the frigid Alaska air. My options are running out fast, sand through my fingers. If these men don’t get me, the cold will. And Delilah is back at the apartment building, maybe in danger. My daughter. My little girl.

When I was back in Harmony Hills, courage felt like an impossible mountain to climb. I’d never be strong enough to fight back against my mama or Leader Allen. I’d never be free.

Then I got pregnant. From the first time Delilah kicked inside me, courage came easy. I’d do anything for her. That’s how I got the strength to steal the rifle. And it’s how I get the strength to bolt from my car. My Mary Janes slap the gravel, breath coming in freezing bursts. The whole world seems to blur, as if I’ve fallen through cracked ice.

From far away I hear shouts, the sound of boots coming after me.

Please, God, I pray. If there was ever a time I need to be delivered from evil…

He never answered my prayers before. He doesn’t do that now either.

A hand wraps in my long hair. I’ve never been able to cut it. There’s so much I never got to do. Then I’m yanked back, legs scraping against sharp rocks, landing hard on my palms.

Jimmy John sneers down at me. He swings one leg over me, climbing on top right in the parking lot. They aren’t just going to hurt me, I realize. They’re going to kill me. If not from my injuries, then from exposure. I’m never leaving the Last Stop after tonight. More men surround me, some carrying bottles of liquor, shouting, cheering. There’s no walking away from this.

An inhuman roar splits the night, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. I see the whites of Jimmy John’s eyes a second before he looks up. Something slams into his face, and he topples backward. I don’t wait to see who hit him or why.

All I can see are two men fighting, hulking shadows in the dark. The other men have backed up to give them space. One man pins the other to the concrete, his fists a steady rain. The one slumps, his open mouth revealing the glint of gold. Jimmy John. Is he unconscious? Dead?

The man who’s beating him swings toward me.

Shock jolts through me. “Luca?”

“Get out of here,” he growls.

His face is twisted in a snarl, the light in his green eyes almost otherworldly. It wasn’t God who answered my call for help. It’s the devil himself, come to bring me home.

I don’t want to see who wins the fight. I run like the hounds of hell are at my feet.

It takes only minutes to run from the parking lot to the road, but it feels like eternity in these shoes. Loose change spills from my apron, but I don’t have time to stop.

For a breathless moment I hear someone following me, footsteps pounding closer. I glance over my shoulder in time to see a man running after me. The report of the gun echoes through the cavernous landscape. The man falls to the ground, revealing Luca holding a gun. He saved me.

Our eyes lock. Time stills. There’s only him and me in the endless frozen desert, the black hole on land. He found me here. He must have been the one asking questions about me.

A punch to his jaw breaks the connection. While he’s down, they jump on him like a pack of hyenas, tearing at him from all sides. Luca is built for fighting, muscle packed on muscle, but he doesn’t stand a chance.

They’re going to kill him.

That’s what they would have done to me. Every cell in my body wants to run back and help him. I know I’d die too, but some things are worth dying for. And that’s why I have to leave. Delilah needs me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper before I turn and run.