Chapter 2 - Nova

The bath is tepid and too small, but it still feels glorious.  A bargain basement bath bomb, a travel-sized bottle of Moscato left over from a very confused man’s bachelor party, and a sugar cookie candle that one of the other servers gave me for Christmas and I’m in heaven.

            No thick, itchy stage makeup to cover my rogue mark.  No aching feet.  No hands on parts of my body where they aren’t wanted. 

            No father that never wanted me lurking around.  Just me and marginal luxury.  Thinking about the night, I realize how good it was.  I made $800 in tips.  That’ll cover what’s left of my bus pass for the month, food, and a little extra cash just in case, leaving me with $500.  Calculating in my head, I add that to the total that I have hidden away in my room.  I’m within $5,000 dollars of my goal. 

            Maybe by the end of the month.  Definitely by next month and then I’m out of here.

            Away in the cabin in the woods that Cody and I said that we would always build and live for the rest of our lives.  When we got away from the rogues and the rest of their bullshit and wouldn’t have to deal with pack life.  We could just be on our own and be happy.

            Of course, since I was ‘rescued,’ I have no idea where Cody is now.  But if I go to the woods, if I build the cabin, if I live there and wait for him…

            The water is cold now.  Not just tepid but freezing cold.  So I haul myself up and out of the tub and grab my ratty, threadbare towel to dry myself off. 

            I wish that I could say that I have an elaborate skin care routine, but all I have is a brush and some lotion.  Not a lot that you can do when you’re saving every cent to escape hell.

            I clean up the bathroom, get everything back into my toiletry caddy, and toss on my sweats and shirt.  Grabbing up my keys to unlock the padlocks, I take a deep breath.  This is honestly the time that I’m most vulnerable to anything happening from my father or one of his friends.  It’s even worse than when I leave the house.  At least then I only have one thing in my hands and I don’t have to fumble with unlocking and relocking my door.

            Listening through the door, I don’t hear anything.  I don’t smell anything, though, like I said, that ain’t gonna tell me much. 

            Fuck it.  I have to trust myself at some point. 

            As quietly as I can, I unlock the padlocks and drop them into my toiletry caddy.  I open the door, leaving it wide open behind me.  No sound emanates from the house and I think that I’m ok.  Hurrying over to my door, I get the two locks open and am about to go inside when I’m slammed from the back and into my room.

            My head smacks into the floor and a skid on the carpet, leaving rug burn on my arms and the tops of my feet.

            “Fucking bitch!  Make me have to sneak around my own house to get in here,” my father mumbles. 

            Fuck!  This is the absolutely worse thing that could happen.

            I quickly climb to my feet, even though my head is spinning.  “Get the fuck out of here Roy.  That’s the deal.  This shit is mine.  You don’t mess with it.”

            He steps toward me, making me flinch back.  “This is my fucking house.  I get to do whatever the fuck I want, you stupid bitch!”

            His hand whips out to smack me.  I manage to dodge the hit, since he’s drunk and slow.  But it makes me take a step back and I trip over the heels that I hadn’t put away when I got home.  I fall back onto the bed in a massive heap.

            That’s my mistake.  He’s on me in an instant, pulling my hair and punching me in the face before throwing me to the floor and kicking me.  “God-damned slut!  You owe me!  Where’s the fucking money?!  I know you have it!  Give it to me!”

            There’s nothing that I can do except to curl up into a ball, trying to protect my head.  Blows land on my back, my legs, my ass, and the back of my neck until one hits the small of my back and makes my entire body bend backs in pain.  A wordless, soundless cry claws at my throat, trapped in my lungs at the extreme pain and I know that he’s broken something.

            The whole time he’s screaming for me to tell him where the money is. 

            But I don’t tell him.  I refuse.  This is what I’ve worked so hard for.  To get away from him.  I’d rather that he kill me than tell him where the money is.  Either way, I’m getting away from him somehow.

            I don’t know how long the beating goes on for.  Eventually he stops and begins to search my room.  All I can do is pray that he doesn’t find my stash.  That would literally be thousands of dollars gone. 

            He does find the little purse that I keep in my uniform.  The one that has my $800 in it.

            “Fucking finally!  Next time, just fucking give it to me,” he says before stomping out of my room.

            Fuck!  I’m in so damn much pain.  I need to shift, but it’s so hard to call up my wolf when the pain is blinding me.  I’ve kept her on a very tight leash ever since I was 16, barely allowing her out to run.  But if I’m going to be able to heal and go to work, I’ve got to connect with her.

            I remember the first time that I shifted and saw her form in the frozen lake out in the woods.  The snow white fur, spattered with blood.  The ferocity in her eyes.  The blood lust that seemed to take me over.

            If I let her out, would she kill again?

            Not that I mind her killing my father, but I also don’t want to be on the run for murder when I’m almost where I need to be money wise.

            I see the open door to my room.  I try to shut it with my leg, but whatever broke isn’t letting my leg respond.  Biting down on my bottom lip, I crawl to the door.  It takes forever because I have to stop and rest every once in a while because of the overwhelming pain.  I think I even pass out once.  But I finally make it close enough so that I can reach the door and push it shut. 

            Now, at least, my wolf can’t get out without trying heard.  It would make a hell of a lot of noise and Roy would have a chance to get away.

            Rolling over, I look up at the ceiling to the spot where my money is hidden in a tile that’s covered by a poster.  Roy would never find it there.

            Calling my wolf forward, a weird and morbid thought crosses my mind and makes me laugh even as I sob. 

            The thought?  At least I don’t have as many bones to break as I shift.