Chapter 19
Ginger
It was getting late. I didn’t know how long we'd been driving, but it had been long enough for me to know that we'd left Daytona. I remained on the floor, uncomfortable, cramped, and surrounded by discarded fast food trash and cups, listening to Daryl and Jack's inane conversation about nothing, things that I didn't understand and that I didn't want to understand. I wasn't naïve to what went on in the world, I watched the news and I'd heard talk in the bars that I'd worked in. I wasn't exactly surrounded by upstanding citizens. But it was the kind of talk you closed your ears to because you didn't want to know. I minded my own business and did my job.
I understood, from the news, enough about human trafficking to know that people disappeared and were sold into prostitution or as sex slaves. Some were sold into labor, where they were treated like prisoners. The stories were in the news every day, but for it to be happening this close to home was frightening. It made it seem more real. I didn't want to become another news story about a woman who just disappeared without a trace, never to be seen again. If Clark had taken me I was certain that's what would have happened.
Was being turned over to a motorcycle club as payment a better option? I shuddered, remembering what it had been like with the Red Devils. If Rebel hadn’t been there, and I hadn't been promised to him, my life would have turned out much differently. I probably wouldn't have been alive today. Those men had been brutal and cruel to their women, treating them as nothing but sex objects to use and abuse. I hadn't had anything to compare it to, but Rebel had been decent to me, as decent as he could have been without giving himself away. I hadn't known that at the time, though.
I wondered if he was looking for me, if he even knew that I was missing. I thought about Della, and how bad she'd looked when we'd left her. Tears filled my eyes. God, I prayed that Rebel had returned to my apartment and discovered her, that she was in the hospital now and being treated. I loved her like a sister. I pinned my gaze on the back of Daryl's head, hating him with everything inside me. Drugs had changed him, and in a relatively short period of time. I wondered what had started him down that road to begin with.
"Fuck, I need a hit," I heard him say to Jack. He ran his hand through his messy hair. I could see that he was shaking.
"Me, too, but we don't have time for that."
"We don't have the money, either. Shit." He looked back at me. "Maybe we can work out a deal with Wicked."
Jack snorted. "There's no 'we', asshole. I'm just along for the ride, you're the one who owes him money. You'll be lucky if he takes her as payment for what you owe."
"I still can't believe Clark wouldn't take her for a grand. I know something big is going on tonight. He could have unloaded her right away, recouped his investment and more."
Jack shrugged. "Who knows what his reasons were."
I closed my eyes, wishing that I could close my ears. As long as I was trapped in this car there was no chance for escape.
"I gotta take a piss."
Those words sent a shot of excitement through me. Unless they just pulled over to the side of the road, this could be the chance that I’d been waiting for. I moved slightly, stifling a moan as the stiffness of my aching muscles protested.
"Gotta get gas anyway," Daryl surprised me by adding.
"With what money?" Jack scoffed.
Daryl's answering laugh held little humor. "I took Della's debit card." He sounded so proud of himself. "She won't be needing it."
Bastard!
I knew that the chances of a successful escape doubled if both of them were out of the car. It wouldn't be easy, since it was only a two-door car. I would have to move fast, somehow climb into the front seat and be out the door before either of them could make a move on me. And with a little luck, Daryl would stop at a busy station.
I felt the car slow down and make a turn, all but holding my breath as Daryl pulled up against a pump and turned off the car. He turned toward Jack. "I'll wait here while you take a leak. Then get gas."
"Yeah, probably not a good idea to leave our pretty passenger alone," Jack greed, opening the door and exiting the vehicle.
No! No! No! Shit! I hadn't expected this. With dread, I watched Jack shut his door. What was I going to do now? My window of opportunity had suddenly narrowed. I lay there quietly, my mind swimming with possible escape scenarios. None of them excluded my having to get into the front seat for success. As the minutes ticked by, Daryl made a phone call.
"Hey, Wicked, man, yeah I'm on my way‒" He was apparently cut off. "Ah, yeah, about the money. No, no, I don't have it, but‒" A few seconds of silence followed. "Listen, man, if I was trying to get out of paying you I wouldn't be coming‒" He muttered a swear word under his breath and grew quiet. I slowly uncurled from the floor and began to straighten up behind him so that he couldn't see me. "I was hoping we could work out a deal, man. I have something you might be interested in." I could hear the desperation in his tone.
When I was high enough to see outside, I took in our surroundings. We were at a Circle K, but that was all I knew. There were restaurants and businesses all around, even a hospital across the street, but I wasn't familiar with the area. Two other drivers had stopped to get gas, too. One was walking toward the store, staring down at something in his hand as he walked, the other was filling his jeep and talking to the woman that was hanging out of his passenger side window. I didn't see Jack anywhere.
Daryl was still talking to Wicked, although he was doing more listening than talking. He seemed to have forgotten all about me, and I decided that it was time to make a move. It would have to be quick and precise or I was screwed, because I was only going to get one chance. I sucked in several deep breaths to work up my courage and snuck up the back of Daryl's seat, still not sure what I was going to do until the very moment that I was doing it. His head was bent forward slightly as he listened on his phone. That gave me an idea, and I moved swiftly, grabbing him by the back of the head and slamming him face first into the steering wheel. He went surprisingly easy, so I knew that I'd caught him by surprise.
The thickening thud was music to my ears. His grunt barely registered as I crawled over the back of the seat and into the front. In the little time that it took, Daryl was already sitting back, slightly stunned from the impact, and reaching up for his bloody nose.
"What the fuck . . . you bitch!"
He began to turn toward me. I grabbed the phone that was still in his hand and smashed it against the side of his temple, reaching for the door handle with my other hand at the same time.
"Son of a bitch!" I heard him swear again as he reached out blindly for me.
Freedom was so close, and yet so far. I managed to avoid his hand by turning around on the seat and facing him. I kicked out to keep him away from me, practically falling backwards out of the car. I slid off the seat, my backside hitting the pavement with a jarring thud that sent pain ricocheting through my body. I cried out, hoping to get the attention of the man who'd just replaced the nozzle and was about to climb back into his jeep.
"Help!"
"Get her!" Daryl yelled out.
Who was he yelling at? I looked behind me to see Jack exiting the Circle K. When he saw what was happening he picked up his speed.
I yelled again. "Someone help me!" I was unable to get to my feet because Daryl had a death grip around one of my ankles. "Help!" I glanced frantically at the man who was now inside his jeep. I could see the indecision in his eyes. He turned to his passenger, who'd become animated and was yelling something at him, which didn't turn out so good for me. With a downward twist on his lips he started his vehicle and tore away from the gas pump without looking back.
Are you kidding me? I screamed in frustration, watching them pull out into traffic. What was wrong with people? There was no one else around, and I began to kick out with growing panic, hoping to break free before Jack reached me. "Help me!" I screamed. I felt someone slide their arms under my armpits and begin to lift me, but when I glanced up to see Jack's unsmiling face I let him pull me to my feet, and then I elbowed him as hard as I could in the gut.
A loud oomph escaped him. I swung around and punched him as hard as I could in the face.
"Get her in here!" Daryl screamed.
Oh, hell no! There was no way I was getting back into the car. As Jack reached for me I kicked him in the groin, and then sprinted around him, making a mad dash for the door to the store. I nearly collided with a man who was exiting the store, ignoring the startled look on his face as I pushed my way past him and into the store. My gaze flew to the counter, where I met the slightly rounded eyes of the cashier. It was apparent that she'd been watching the whole thing through the window and didn't know how to react. I nearly flew to the counter, grasping it as if it were a lifeline.
"I've been kidnapped!" I said in a breathless voice. "Please, call the police!" I glanced nervously at the door and beyond, frightened that I was going to see Jack and Daryl coming after me. I almost sank to the floor with relief when Jack jumped into the Camaro and the car squealed away from the pump. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" Realizing that I'd really escaped, I let my legs collapse beneath me and I hit the floor, gasping for breath.
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the counter, letting it sink in that I was actually free. Tears of relief escaped my eyes. I hoped that Daryl got what he deserved, that this Wicked biker he owed money to beat the shit out of him. No, that wasn't good enough. I wanted him dead for what he’d done to Della. I wanted him dead for what he’d tried to do to me.
"Do you still want me to call the police?" I heard the voice above me ask.
What? She hadn't called them yet? Was she dense? "Of‒" I stopped myself. My only concern in that moment was to get back to Della. Thinking of the possibility that she was still at my apartment, alone and afraid, hurting, I knew that I had to get back to her immediately. Getting the police involved would only complicate and prolong things, and I didn't have the time or the want to answer a hundred questions right then. Besides, once they became involved with Della's attack they would be after Daryl anyway.
I made a decision. "No, no cops. Can I borrow your phone?" I got to my feet. She handed it to me and I dialed Stevie's number.
"Hello?"
"Stevie, it's me‒"
"Oh my God, Ginger! Where are you? We've all been so worried, honey. Rebel, Vinny, people, are look‒"
"I managed to get away," I said, interrupting her. I couldn't explain how it made me feel to know that Rebel was looking for me. It occurred to me that if they were looking for me, then they had to know about Della. My heart raced with hope. "Della‒"
"She's in the hospital, honey. Rebel found her."
Thank God! Everything drained out of me in that moment as relief overwhelmed me. "Is she okay?" Nothing else mattered at that point.
I didn't miss her slight hesitation before she said, "That pig did a lot of damage to her, but the doctors say that she will pull through. I'm here at the hospital with her now. Ginger‒" Stevie had lowered her voice as if she didn't want to be overheard. "You didn't call the police, did you? The boys want to handle this."
I had a good idea which 'boys' Stevie was referring to--Rebel and his friends, and maybe even Vinny. Vinny had spent a little time in prison once for handing out his own justice. He'd hunted down Stevie's rapist and had turned him into a vegetable. That had been right before they'd become involved with each other.
"No, I didn't." I was suddenly glad that I hadn't. "Do you think someone can come get me? I'm at a Circle K across from some hospital." I glanced at the quiet cashier. "Where am I?"
"Deltona."
"I know where you are," Stevie remarked, overhearing the girl's answer. "I used to live there. Stay put. Someone will be there."
"Not you, stay with Della. I don't want her alone."
"Okay, honey."
We disconnected after that. I handed the phone back to the cashier, mustering up a smile that I didn't feel inside. "Thanks."
"Is everything okay?"
I knew that it was her attempt to find out what was going on. I nodded, praying that she let that be the end of her curiosity. I had no idea how long I'd have to wait, glancing out the door to see that a couple of the pumps were full. One vehicle was a construction truck full of men. The doors opened, and they all plowed out while one went to the pump. As they headed toward the door I tugged my boy shorts down as much as I could, feeling self-conscious in my lack of attire.
"Follow me." I didn't question the cashier, following her to the back. "We have a tiny break room back here where you can wait for your friends."
"Thanks." I glanced around at the pitiful lounge area. It was filthy, and there was trash lying everywhere. The table didn't look like it had ever been cleaned.
"No one cleans up after themselves, but at least it's a place to sit and wait."
I smiled at her. "It's perfect, thanks again."
Once she left I sank down into one of the chairs and released a long breath. My nerves were shot. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and I was exhausted. The stress of the situation had caught up with me. I crossed my arms on the table top and lay my head down on them, hoping that I didn't have long to wait before someone showed up.