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I put my phone in sleep mode then picked up my clothes and did a long, quiet listen. Had to force the noise in my head to settle...but I finally made out the soft sound of water splashing somewhere close. They’d never removed those heavy socks, so I was able to follow the sound as best I could across the dirt and stones with minimal discomfort...and lo and behold, there was a little brook close by.
I stripped off the last of the rape clothes and used them to scrub myself with its water, as best I could. I let the wind dry me, even though it was chilly, then I pulled on last night’s clothing. No underwear or socks, but I did have my shoes...and my wallet and money were still in my pocket, as were my keys.
I stumbled back to the half-moon tent and scrounged through it to find some granola bars and a half-full bottle of spring water. Looked like my rapists had been chilling up here, for a while. So I sat at the picnic table to eat and let my mind drift and return to itself.
Under other circumstances, where I was would have been a lovely place to camp out. The rolling hills that were almost mountains. One after the other into the distance. The scrub and shrubs all over, colored in a vague military green. A few trees. All very dry and probably set to go up in the next fire season. Still, I could sit there and wonder at the beauty of hawks and buzzards dancing through a clear blue sky that was whispered with feathery clouds.
A deer and her fawn wandered past a bit down the hill, cast a curious glance at me then continued on. I think I heard chipmunks, but to be honest I don’t know what they sound like. Might have been gophers. Still, it was all so tender and uncaring and just plain perfect I could have wept.
So...Vance thought he owned me. Thought he’d made me into just another porn actor whose claims for anything could be dismissed as a junky out for money. That he’d been able to pull this together with so many people so quickly told me he had some deep connections in the So-Cal porn world as well as mainstream Hollywood.
Which told me he’d probably upload the edited video to some kink site, giving me a fake name but having it ready to broadcast if I didn’t let him run my life. Destroy what little reputation I had in the business and send me packing back to Laguna Beach.
As if.
Of course, I couldn’t think of what to do in order to counter him, at the moment. I was still too messed up, mentally, physically and emotionally. I needed to find a safe place to sit and think and plan. Which meant not returning to my condo...not just yet, and...
Suddenly, I saw Ben and Liam strolling up the path and waving at me, as if only a few minutes had passed since I called them. I was shook, but I still managed to wave back.
Ben noticed the rope Vance’s boys had left, some still tied to the table...and saw the skin of my wrists was rubbed raw. But all he said was, “There’s a parking area just down the path.”
I nodded and rose to my feet, a lot steadier than I thought I’d be.
“What about all that stuff?” he continued, moving towards the tent.
I just shook my head. Let the next fire get it. Or maybe some homeless person. I wanted nothing from it.
We slipped down to Liam’s car...which to my surprise was an old, sleek Chrysler 300. He noticed how I looked at it with admiration and said, “Got it from my dad. He bought a Tesla to replace it...before he knew the guy was an asshole. Now he’s got a Kia.”
But what was even more of a surprise? My little SUV was parked close by.
I actually gave myself a mental kick for not thinking they’d have brought it and left it, for me to get home. They had my keys and it couldn’t stay in Niko’s parking area for very long without some questions being raised.
Common sense was not with me, at that moment.
Thing was, I didn’t trust myself to drive it, right then. My brain was still too skittery.
The boys were looking at me, silently waiting for some explanation. Your car’s here but you had us drive all this fucking way? What the fuck, Rett?
“One of you want to drive it?” I managed to croak.
Ben nodded. “Where to?”
Oh, right, someplace to stay. Hide. Regroup. Bring back my peace of mind and sense of control.
I handed him the keys. “You know that Motel 6 by LAX?”
“Yeah,” said Liam. “405’s gonna be a bitch.”
Ben nodded. “Do Sepulveda, off the Ten.”
“Traffic lights!” Liam fake whined as he got in the 300.
“Or fast as a snail,” Ben shot back.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
I slipped into the passenger seat as Ben got into my HRV, and off we went. And I said nothing as we drove.
