Prologue
Reagan
How did I get here?
That was the very question that I kept asking myself over and over as I drove across the fucking country, again. But this time I was driving like a bat outta Hell. Stopping only long enough to refuel, eat, and take a cat nap in my car. All the while, hoping no one took a long enough look at my face.
So what was it that led me here?
I wished I had all the answers. But then again, it wouldn’t have changed anything. It wasn’t like I could go back and redo the past. I wasn’t sure what kind of shit I had done in a past life, or what God I must have angered, but life was just never easy. Not that I would ever complain, but come on, a little break at some point would have been fucking nice.
Maybe I should go back to the beginning, all the crappy things that paved the road to this point.
My life had always been a blur of random towns and faces. My mom never liked to stay in one place for very long. It seemed that she would get restless or the random man that she had dug her claws in would get tired of her. Then we were off again.
New town, new man.
Let me just say, school and friends were always a struggle for me. The longest I had stayed in one place was three months. And even then, I was the weird kid that nobody wanted to befriend. I never felt wanted anywhere. Not by my mother, not by her many boyfriends. Unless I was a little too wanted by them, that was. Luckily for me, that line was never crossed with all those nameless faces. Still, it made for many long days of hiding out in my room.
I learned quickly to recognize that look from men. The first time I remembered my hair standing on end was when I was six. Mom had been with some guy for two weeks. I couldn’t even remember his name, just that he had dark hair, a thick mustache and he smelled like stale beer. I was sitting on the couch watching cartoons in my pajamas. He flopped down beside me, beer bottle in his hand, and narrowed his eyes at me. I cut my eyes over at him to see him licking his lips before smirking. I felt everything throughout my body freeze. When he made a weird, deep sound in the back of his throat, I jumped off the couch and ran to my room. And that was where I learned to stay.
The only time I ever felt at home was when my mom would drop me off at my grandmother’s house. It was usually for only a week or two, and then mom would come drag me away again. Nan, as I called my grandma, was always lively and full of fire. She would say that age was just a number and there was no reason anyone should let that slow them down. My grandpa passed away before I was even around. After he was gone, Nan made sure to keep her social calendar full at all times. I often wondered if it was her way of escaping the reality that he was no longer there. However, when I was in town, she would stop everything and make the world about me.
At seventeen, mom threw a couple of bucks at me and told me I was on my own. I remembered standing there, outside of a dingy motel in complete shock. My jaw hung open as I watched her drive away with the car packed full of only her belongings. To say she was a crappy mother would have been an understatement. The owner of the motel took pity on me and gave me a job. He let me stay in a room for a discounted price and took the payment out of my wages. Which didn’t leave me with much after. But it was enough to get by on.
After working there for a year, I bought a bus ticket and headed to Nan’s to get my head straight. She took me in with open arms. A month later, I told her I had to go try and make it on my own. She gave me the keys to her nineteen-ninety-something Toyota Corolla and an envelope full of cash. She told me she expected to see me more often after I got on my feet. She also made sure I knew I always had a home there.
I drove across the country trying to find a place that “felt right”. Two years went by in a blur of random places, much like my childhood had. Right outside of Seattle I decided to give up and make a go of it. I found a job at Ruben’s Diner working nights. Most of the time it was truckers passing through looking for a bit of comfort food. I’d had my fair share of working in sketchy places. I had no expectations about this place being any different. However, it wasn’t that bad. Most of the truckers were just tired and looking for a bright smile or someone to listen to them for a few minutes. The married ones would talk about how they missed their spouse and kids. They would tell stories and smile wistfully. Sometimes, it would pull at my heartstrings. I wondered if I would ever find someone that got lost in thoughts of me the way those men did.
Don’t get me wrong, I would get a few grabby, dirty customers a week. But luckily for me, Bruce the cook was always there to break a few fingers if need be. With his six foot frame and nearly three hundred pound girth, I never felt I had to worry.
I decided to give community college a try. But my mind was too restless and I failed out halfway through my first semester. I had a trouble making it to class on time and when I was there I couldn’t pay enough attention to grasp anything. It had nothing to do with me being smart enough. Because I was. I simply lacked discipline. I decided that staying in one place long enough to learn people’s names was enough of an achievement for the time.
I found someone looking for a roommate and put down some roots. The place was a two bedroom not far from the diner. It didn’t have much, but at least I didn’t have to scare the roaches away before I crawled into bed. Liz, my roommate, was pretty awesome. Liz and I became fast friends and spent most of our free time together. A year after we were living together, she helped me get a decent job as a head receptionist. It was at the law office she worked at as a secretary. Most everyone there was pleasant, even if they were a little intense at times.
Everything was perfect until Liz met Lance. He smelled like money and lots of expensive cologne. Every time he would leave the apartment, that smell would linger for hours. At first, he was nice and seemed really interested in Liz. But then something changed, and I recognized that look he started giving to me. Needless to say, I limited my time with them and started hiding away in my room when he was around.
We’d been roommates for three years and she had been dating Lance for six months. I came home from work, ready for our girls’ night out for my twenty-third birthday, to a scene that would change everything forever. In just a matter of a few seconds, my stable life began to crumble and I was on the road again.
My legs were moving, carrying me out of the apartment before my brain even had a chance to process what was going on. I had my purse still on my arm, keys in my hand, four-inch heels still holding in my aching feet. I barely made it to my car, shaking as I tried to jab the key in the ignition. I reversed, not even looking at what was behind me. I drove away leaving everything behind. It wasn’t like I had anything that mattered anyway. No childhood mementos. No happy pictures to look back and reminisce about. No money stashed away under my mattress. Everything I owned could eventually be replaced without a second thought. I tossed my cell phone out the window before I turned onto the highway. It may have been me being a bit paranoid, but I didn’t want there be any way for someone to track me.
The destination? The only place I’d ever felt safe and welcomed.