Moth to a Flame (2 page)

The clearing of a throat dragged me away from thoughts of my mom and back into the present. I moaned in terror once again at the realization of my situation. This time, my captor reached over and roughly grabbed my breast through my sweater. It instantly throbbed at his grasp, and I became hysterical as I tried to jerk away from his grip.

Shit! He fucking grabbed my boob! That is going to leave a bruise.

The tears began unabashedly streaming down my face. As I breathed raggedly through my nose, greedily sucking in air, my thoughts began to race as reality set in. This man was probably going to rape and kill me. Fresh tears spilled over my cheeks.

Will I ever see my mom again?

In a moment of bravery—a trait of mine that my mother so proudly boasted of—I savagely hiked my foot up and pushed where I imagined the steering wheel to be. When my foot connected with it, I pushed hard to the left, locking my leg. He roughly tore at my leg, trying to remove it from the steering wheel, but my cheerleader legs were solid muscle and the sudden rush of adrenaline was fueling my strength. The grunts he made were of pure frustration as he tried to unlock me from my position. But his obvious inebriated state was no match for my strength in that moment.

Bounce, bounce, bounce.

My body sprang up and down as we sailed over the center median, nearly making me lose my grip on the steering wheel. Maybe the highway patrol would see the car driving erratically and save me from this evil man. A sudden, forceful impact had me slamming against the dashboard like a rag doll, banging my head with a sharp pop that had me seeing stars and wanting to vomit. The screeching and crunching of metal was all that could be heard for what seemed like an eternity.

When the car finally slid to a stop, I clumsily slid my bound hands under my bottom and tucked my legs through, feeling dazed from hitting my head. I brought them both up and ripped away the covering from my head. My vision was finally restored. Trembling, I removed the tape from my mouth and sucked in cool breaths. My lungs heaved in delight. Desperate to see my abductor’s face, I tried to get a glimpse, but in the dark car, all I could see was his slumped-over body with blood running down the side of his face. The asshole was dead, and I’d killed him—
I think
.

I hovered my bound hands over the broken glass on the passenger’s side window and began to saw frantically, consequently cutting myself in the process. When my shaking hands finally broke free, I yelped with joy. The joyous sound was quickly hushed when it elicited a groan from my attacker. I fumbled with the door handle with trembling hands and fell out of the car onto the pavement, skinning my knees through my jeans.

I have to get the hell out of here before he wakes up!

When I stood up, I realized that we had crashed into another car head on. The hissing of the engines rang out over the howling of the wind. I was momentarily caught up in watching the other car for signs of life as the wind whipped around me. Finally, I saw movement in the other car, which sparked a quick, whispered prayer for that person’s safety.

The sounds of more moaning from my captor tore me from my frozen stance and had me sprinting off toward the woods on the other side of the highway in record speed. Rushing through the woods, I blindly ran in what I thought was the direction of my town.

Crack!

Is that him catching up to me?!

Running faster, I darted through the woods, branches slapping at my face and pulling at my hair. Ten minutes later, I realized that I was barefoot and my feet were covered in cuts from running through the brush, forcing me to remember that I left my shoes in the car.

Damn, I loved those Louboutins.

Having been required to stay fit, I ran without slowing until I reached the edge of town. Once my feet made purchase on the familiar streets, I bolted from shadow to shadow in case the man had somehow caught up to me. I didn’t stop running until I burst into my dorm room, my chest heaving from exertion. Snatching up my duffel bag, I threw in some pictures of my mom and Rich, a bunch of my clothes, and as many pairs of my shoes as I could fit.

After grabbing my pink Alpha Delta Pi baseball cap on the way out, I tucked my hair into it and slipped my bare, bloody feet into my tennis shoes. This brave girl was getting the hell out of here and never coming back.

Three years later

“GIRL, DID YOU see what Beyoncé was wearing at the VMAs last night? She was so wrong for that. Don’t she know leggings don’t look good on a female after she’s had a baby?” Anj asked in her usual cheeky way.

I rolled my eyes and kept typing the email to my mother.

Mom,

I hope all is well in Paris. I loved the cashmere scarf you sent. Please send Rich my love. Your relentless begging and now bribery still won’t work. I love my job here, and no, I don’t plan to ever finish college. It just wasn’t for me. Can you please let it go? Pops pays me well and I have my own cabin by the lake. Life is great. For your other question, no, I am not gay… I just haven’t found the right guy, nor am I even looking at the moment. I’m focusing on my career at the bank. I hope to see you both at Thanksgiving.

Kisses and hugs,

Lia

After I hit send, I looked over at Anj. She was a beautiful black girl, but she was as feisty as they come. She always had the “hot brotha” she wanted to set me up with, never thwarted by my constant refusals. Each week, she’d have a new prospect for me. I would politely remind her every time that I didn’t date at all. Today, she was on a roll.

“Lia! I almost forgot to tell you. Brother Hagan was introducing some new folks to the congregation yesterday and he brought up a fine specimen of a man that had my lady parts quivering,” she said.

“Ugh! TMI, Anj! You’re a married woman and were at church for crying out loud,” I grumbled to her.

“I can still look,” she replied sweetly with a wink.

Her adorable, uncontrollable laughter had me cracking a smile of my own.

Anj was married to Deion, the stereotypical hot fireman, and they had the cutest little kids: Tatum, six, and Neveah, four. Anj was short for Anjel, which she refused to go by “because my momma don’t know how to spell.”

When I heard a door open, I looked up to see Pops. This elicited a huge grin from me, which was mirrored on his face. Pops was Ben Johnson, owner of Jonestown Bank & Trust where Anj and I worked.

“Lia,” his voice boomed. “Looks like we got the new builder that was featured in Austin Homes magazine.”

I jumped up and ran over to give him a big hug. “Congrats, Pops! I know how hard you were wooing him.”

Pops was an older gentleman with white hair, and he was the epitome of a grandfatherly figure even though he and his wife Betty hadn’t been able to have children. He was the reason I had this job.

When horrors that I wanted to forget had happened three years ago, I’d driven until I’d come to the small town of Jonestown, Texas. After spending the night in an old motel, I intended on applying to be a teller at the local bank there in town, hoping that my partial finance degree could be put to use. When the old man walked into the lobby, he hired me on the spot to be his assistant.

Later, he told me that something in my teary eyes, quivering chin—which I’d still managed to hold high—and the most ridiculous gold, sparkly, high-heeled shoes he’d ever seen had prompted a need in him to look after me. The huge bruise on the side of my face and cuts all over my arms had probably added to his protective manner as well. He’d insisted that I call him ‘Pops’ right from the beginning. I’d been his sidekick ever since.

Thinking about my love for shoes, I looked down at my newest find, which I’d ordered from Steve Madden.
Sigh.
Shoes were my life.

“Mr. Reeves will be here tomorrow to sign some preliminary documentation and bring over his financials,” Pops informed me, tearing me from admiring my shoes. “I’ll also need you to go check the progress on the spec homes out in Wildwood Creek Estates this afternoon so we can fund their draw requests.”

“No problem. Hey, Pops? It’s Wednesday and we’ll be super slow this afternoon anyway. Do you think I could go home afterwards?” I begged with a sweet smile, knowing he couldn’t resist even if he tried.

He let out a groan of defeat, causing Anj to snicker to herself in the corner. “Anj, back to work,” he boomed in an attempt to sound authoritative, sending her and me into a fit of hysterics.

I chuckled all the way to my desk and started to gather my things when I noticed that Pops had set a sack on my desk. “What’s this?” I questioned, peeking inside.

He grinned mischievously at me. “Betty sent more of those romance novels for you to read. She told me to tell you she expects a full report on the last ones she lent you.”

I felt my cheeks redden, which caused another eruption of laughter, this time from Anj and Pops. Betty was just as bad as my mother when it came to my love life.

“Thanks. Will do,” I muttered.

On the way to Wildwood, I rolled down the window to my old Honda to enjoy the unusually warm late October air. The scenery in this town was beautiful. I could oftentimes mostly forget what had driven me away from the comforts of a big-city life to the security of the quiet countryside.

When that night tried to replay in my mind or I awoke from a nightmare, I had to remind myself that he never knew who I was. If he’d survived, there would be no way he could ever know how to find me. In an effort to blend in, I traded in my long, blond locks for my natural brown hair color and my manicured nails for calluses from fixing up my cabin. I was no longer the popular president of my sorority—the social butterfly. No, I was a faded version of my original self—a moth. I just wanted to fade into the background. Well, except for my shoes. The line had to be drawn somewhere.

After a few days in my new life, I’d called my mother to tell her about how I’d dropped out of college. She had been shocked and disappointed but supportive of me “finding myself.” As long as she and Rich knew how to get ahold of me while they bounced from city to city, she was happy.

I still hadn’t had the courage to describe to her the terrors of my past. My mother was so caring that she would have dropped her new life with Rich to come take care of me. I might have been a selfish bitch at that school, but my mother was my world and I could never do that to her. Plus, some things are just better left unsaid.

As I pulled into the addition, I stopped at the first home in progress to begin my inspections. I traded my gorgeous, red pumps for my pink Gucci rain boots. There was no way I was going to ruin my newest loves in the muck at these construction sites.

When I stepped out of my car with my camera in hand, I put on my fiercest look, glaring at any workers who dared look my way. They would never know that it was a façade, that I was really just trying to control my shaking hands. I thought secretly, deep down, that Pops knew that I need these types of outings to grow my self-confidence and shake some of my deep-seated fears. I tromped through the mud, ignoring the catcalls from the bored workers, and began my inspections.

Once I finished with the last house, I noticed a red Chevy pickup in the last lot in the addition right next to where I’d been working. Instantly, I became hyperaware of my surroundings. Something about the empty truck in the vacant lot was causing bells to ring loud and clear with warning. Butterflies skittered in my stomach. Quickly, I began to make my way back to my car, mace ready to deliver a deadly concoction to any eyes that dare come near me.

As I reached for the latch to open my car door, a hand grabbed my shoulder, making me spin wildly while viciously spraying my attacker with the mace. The man screamed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growled, rubbing at his burning eyes.

“Don’t touch me, you freak,” I hissed back at him while both retreating towards my car and keeping him in my line of vision.

“What’s a girl even doing on a construction site anyway? The mall is that way.” He pointed in no direction at all, really.