The handover with the lunch crew went smoothly as always. She still couldn’t believe the day she was having, hell the month at this point. She hopped on her bike, revved the engine and pulled out from the front of the bar. She’d taken to parking in the front, instead of in the alley after what happened with Jon. Even in the daylight, she didn’t want to be back there where she’d been attacked.

She didn’t know what strings Jon’s parents had to pull to get him out of prison early, but she wanted to punch them both in the throat. She’d never understood how they couldn’t see what kind of monster he was. But she guessed it was hard to own up to the fact you’d raised a psycho. Her relationship with his parents had been great at the start. They seemed like the perfect family. Beautiful house, tastefully decorated, his mom was always so warm and welcoming. Growing up without a mom, she’d lapped it up and loved her attention.

She’d take her out shopping all the time and they had a great time together. Rox didn’t know if they knew about Jon and what he was doing to her. She finally mustered up the courage to tell his mom one afternoon when they were sitting on the patio having lemonade and sandwiches, while the guys were out playing golf. She still remembered the conversation she’d had with his mom after a particularly painful night, where she’d been accused of flirting with a waiter at a restaurant they’d gone out to. It was always someone. A gas station attendant, a waiter, barista, mailman, pretty much any man that she spoke to or interacted with was another fight waiting to happen.

She pulled down her sunglasses to show his mother her black eye and she’d never forget the look on her face. She turned a particularly bright shade of red and her eyes were aflame with anger. At first, she’d thought his mom was angry with him, but her next words let Rox know just where she stood with his family.

“What did you do to make him so angry?” she snapped.

“I…I didn’t do anything. We went out to dinner, he thought I was flirting, but I wasn’t.” Her heart pounded. Would she tell Jon? Was this going to cause another fight? Why had she shown his mother? Why had she thought she would be on her side?

“I should have known that someone like you wouldn’t be able to keep my son happy. Don’t flirt in front of him, dear. You’ve only brought this on yourself.” His mom reached down into her bag and pulled out a compact. She turned Rox’s hand over and placed it in her palm. “This compact has all of the colors you’ll need to cover that up. We wouldn’t want people to talk, now would we?” she said, squeezing Rox’s hand closed around the compact.

That was when she knew she was truly alone. He had connections, he had money, and his family didn’t care what he did to her as long as he was happy. It wasn’t like she could go back to her dad. A shiver ran down her spine at that thought and a single tear escaped her eye as she sat there with his mother. She pulled her hand away in disgust at Rox’s display of emotional turmoil.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Just do everything in your power to make Jon happy and this won’t be a problem anymore,” she said, patting Rox on her hand. That was the last time she ever brought it up to his mother. She knew where the chips fell.

Pulling into her parking space, she shut off the bike and headed to her apartment. It wasn’t the prettiest place, but she’d gotten used to it when she first moved in and they accepted cash, so that ticked all her boxes. Her midday break from the bar between prep and evening service was nap time. Napping had to be one of the best innovations ever. Pulling her keys out of her pocket, she climbed the last couple of stairs to her apartment. Sleeping during the day made it a lot easier to stay up late for the dinner and late night rush, and it also made her less anxious than sleeping at night.

Reaching for the doorknob, she wrenched her hand back like she’d been slapped. Her front door was already open, not just open, but busted in. The door knob was hanging off and it looked like someone had tried to push it closed again. Oh shit! She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

“Hello, 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I’d like to report a break in.”

So much for Jon not knowing where she lived. Fuck! Of course, the odds were that if he found her at work then he could find her at home. He’d probably been following her for who knows how long. That turned her stomach as she imagined him watching her come and go, completely oblivious to the fact that he might be there lurking in the shadows.

The cops came and checked over the place. There wasn’t much to report other than the fact that she was 99% sure it was Jon who did this, he was recently paroled and nothing was missing. The cops asked her if she had a place to go, while her landlord replaced the door and lock. Rox didn’t have anywhere, but she wasn’t going to tell them that. She reassured them that she would be fine and after they ensured that there was no one there, she was allowed back in.

The first sight when she walked in the door had her involuntarily dry heaving. Glad that she hadn’t eaten anything that morning, she pushed the door shut and surveyed the apartment. There was a nice vase filled with beautiful red roses, which made her skin crawl. Those were the same flowers Jon would buy her after every ‘incident’. Always apologetic, always so sweet afterward. She would shake like a leaf as he professed his love for her and the fact that it would never happen again. It always did.

Sidestepping the bouquet, she ran to her bedroom, grabbed a bag and chucked some clothes and other stuff she would need in there. She would have to let this place go. She couldn’t come back here alone. She had a key to the bar. Mark had a bathroom in his office with a shower and a comfy couch she’d crashed on more than once during the day when things got hectic. She’d be able to crash there for a while and no one would know. Plus, with a place that was usually packed or well secure when empty, she’d feel much more comfortable there than here. Especially now.

With the last of her stuff packed, she hefted the bag onto her shoulder and ran out of the apartment. She hooked the bag onto the back of her bike, revved the engine and peeled out of there. This was a reason she didn’t like to get attached to places. You never knew when you would have to leave them behind.