Wrong Side of the Tracks by Ashley Zakrzewski

ChapterThree

Bubba was on the east side of San Antonio when his phone chirped. He’d pulled off for gas and coffee and was just climbing back into the truck when he heard it. He checked the screen and found the message was from the same number Celia had called from earlier. Why hadn’t she gotten a disposable phone like he’d told her to?

The message was an address in Pascagoula. She’d gotten out of Mobile. Smart move on her part, except someone as connected as her father would find her in no time with her phone. He shook his head and hit the road. The faster he got there, the better.

He waited until he’d made it onto I-10 and all the way to the left-hand lane where he could step on it and make the best time then hit the screen on the dash to dial the number Celia had called from.

“Hello? Cole is that you?”

“I hope to God you’re on a disposable phone, Celia. Because if you’re on yours, your daddy’s gonna find you before I can get there.”

“I’m not — I mean I am. On a prepaid phone. You’re the only person who has this number. Well, you and Corey. I called him with it earlier too.”

“So that’s how you got my number. I’d wondered.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called. Tell me a few things first.” He asked where her car was, about her phone, everyone she’d talked to and how much cash she had. Relief washed through him that she hadn’t called Corey or him with her normal phone. He silently thanked Corey for making her leave it in the car too and for the suggestion about the plane tickets. He deliberately didn’t ask what had happened to make her decide to get out, he didn’t want to get into that while she was alone in a strange place. He would find out once he got there or on the way back. They talked a few minutes longer, he told her to call for something like pizza, give a fake name and pay with cash rather than go out somewhere, even in Pascagoula. Then told her to be safe and he’d see her soon. Once they were off the phone, he focused on the road. He wanted to make it to the other side of Mississippi by midnight.

* * *

Bubba pulled into the parking lot at the address Celia had texted him and looked around. He didn’t know if she had chosen it or Corey had, but Bubba had to admit, Celia’s daddy would never look for her here. This place was only slightly nicer than the ratholes he’d been living in for the last two years. He found the room number she’d given him and parked in front of it, then reached over the seat and grabbed the jacket he kept in the back seat and pulled it on. It was too hot for it, but he’d rather not flash the pistol in a holster under his arm if he didn’t have to. Better to keep that as a surprise in case he needed it later.

At the room, he knocked and waited, thinking he should have called when he’d reached town. What if she was sleeping and didn’t hear him? A couple moments later, his fear vanished when she opened the door. The room was dim, and the light outside even dimmer, he didn’t see her well until she stepped back to let him in. He stepped inside, closed the door, and turned to face her.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, watching her back as she went to one of two double beds. Her stiff and careful movements told him she was hurt, but he didn’t realize how bad until she turned and sat. When he caught his first clear view of Celia’s face. A pounding thundered in his ears. Bubba clenched his fists as he held back the desire to rip someone limb from limb.

One eye was black and so swollen it was a wonder she could see out it. There was a nasty cut on the other cheekbone and Bubba couldn’t help but wonder if this was her face, what else had happened to her?

Bubba clenched his fists and fought back the haze of red that threatened to take over his vision as he held back the desire to rip someone limb from limb.

“Celia, sweetheart.” Bubba fought to keep his voice soft and his movements slow as he approached her. He reached out and with a carefully flat hand, tipped her head back. “Who did this to you?”

She pulled back and looked away. “This is my fault.”

Bubba couldn’t stop the growl that tore itself from his throat. “Unless you jumped in front of his fists, this is not your fault and I never want to hear you say that again. What happened.”

She kept her face turned away, but she spoke. “His name is Troy and I’ve been seeing him for the last six months.”

Bubba remained quiet, hoping she’d tell him more.

Celia took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Maybe I should back up a little. Daddy introduced me to Troy. We started seeing each other. Things were going well. A few months ago, I got a little smart mouthed and Troy slapped me. I went to Daddy, and he told me I should watch what I say.” She looked at Bubba. He saw the unhappiness in her eyes. “I accepted it. Daddy has always been there for me. Anyway, I should have broken it off then, but I didn’t. I let it continue.”

Bubba wanted to ask questions but was afraid to interrupt. He didn’t want her to lose momentum.

“It happened a couple more times, nothing this bad, just a slap here and there mostly. Then yesterday it came out about Becky Lynn.”

Bubba frowned. Becky Lynn. The name sounded familiar, but it took a moment for him to remember the quiet girl with braids from their class. She’d always struck him as shy, almost scared of her own shadow. “What happened to Becky Lynn?”

“She was beaten to death by her husband.”

“Who did she marry?” He didn’t remember the girl dating anyone in school, but he had to admit, he hadn’t paid any attention.

“Some guy from Montgomery. I didn’t know him, only met him a couple times. She’d pulled away from a lot of our friends over the last few years. When I heard about her death, some sixth sense told me that was where I was headed. If I stayed with Troy, I might not be next, but the same thing would happen to me.”

“What happened to push that to sooner rather than later?”

Celia looked away again and licked her lips before speaking. “When Troy came by to pick me up for our date last night, I told him it was over. I didn’t tell him why, only that I didn’t think it was working and I didn’t want to see him again. He lost his mind. It wasn’t just slapping me once, he used his fists.”

“Is that all he did?” Bubba knew often beatings were not the only physical violence abused women endured, but he didn’t want to outright ask if the bastard had raped her.

Celia wouldn’t meet his gaze but looked away and nodded. Bubba wasn’t convinced that was all, but he wasn’t about to push, not now.

“What do you want to do?”

“I have to get out. I want to get away from here and never see Troy again.” She looked at him and met her gaze. “I’ve regretted letting Daddy push you away for a long time. I never forgot about you but thought it best to let you live your life away from us. I’m sorry to drag you back here when you’ve gotten away.”

“Sweetheart.” He reached out, used the tips of his fingers to turn her face to look at him. “Never regret bringing me back into your life. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you need.”

“Thank you.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a movement she’d done often in high school.

Back then he would have pulled her into his arms and comforted her. Now, not knowing what kind of bruises her clothes hid or what kind of emotional scars Troy had left on her, he kept his distance. He wanted to destroy this Troy, but making sure Celia was okay and safe was more important. He stood, went to the foot of the bed, and paced as he tried to decide the best way to deal with this. He needed to get home. They needed to get to Tucson so his club could back them up. The last thing he wanted was a big face to face confrontation with Celia’s dad on his own turf.

“When was the last time you spoke to your father or this Troy?”

“Troy was last night. I don’t know what time he left. Daddy was yesterday morning. Why?”

“I’m trying to figure out how long until they’ll be looking for you.”

“Daddy may be already, but I used his credit card to book a ticket to New York City this afternoon and a hotel room, too.”

“That should buy us some time, but maybe not much if they think to check if you were actually on the plane.” He made a couple more laps before shedding the jacket. He tossed it on the back of one of the two chairs next to the window, then pulled out his phone. It might be nearly midnight here, but at home it was not quite ten.

He debated for a moment then sent a message to the club’s tech sergeant, Gizmo.

Bubba:Do me a favor, see if anyone is looking for a Cecilia ‘Sissy’ Metcalf of Mobile Alabama. I’d look in Alabama and possibly NY state/city.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned to watch Celia.

“I need to check you over.”

“Why?” She looked up her eyes wide with panic.

“I need to make sure you’re not more hurt than you think. I need to make sure it’s not going to hurt you worse to wait a couple days before seeking more treatment.”

“What do you mean treatment?”

Bubba took a deep breath and forced himself to slow down and explain.

“Sweetheart, I get why you don’t want to go to the hospital. Someone will call your daddy. But I need to make sure you’re not seriously hurt. I need to be sure he didn’t break anything or crack a rib, and if he did, we need to know so we can deal with it.”

Celia’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at him. “How would we do that? How would we know?”

“I’ve got a little training. Enough to know if it’s beyond my means. And if I decide you need to be seen I have a few tricks up my sleeve to keep it from being reported to your dad.” He didn’t tell her if she needed to be seen, he wouldn’t be taking her to a hospital, at least not one designed for humans. “Come on, sweetheart, on your feet and strip. At least to your skivvies. I need to make sure you’re good to travel.” He curled his fingers at her, trying to calm her nerves.