Cocaine Hearts

Chapter 10

My mind spiraled into a whirlwind of panic and fear, my heart pounding in my chest. "How the hell did he manage to escape?" I blurted out, unable to contain my shock.

My mother's attempts to hide her sobs were futile, and Martin's strong arms tightened around her shoulders in a protective embrace and he ran his hands through her straight blonde hair. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "There was a prison riot. Somehow he managed to escape during all the chaos."

The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. The man who had tried to murder both me and my mother, the one who had left us with deep scars of trauma, was now roaming free. The fear coursing through my veins was paralyzing.

"Baby," my mom said softly, her voice laced with tears. "We have to leave. We have to go into hiding so he doesn't find us." Her words hung heavy in the air, the weight of the danger looming over us.

Martin, always the pillar of strength, sprang into action. "I'll find us a hotel in a town a few hours away," he declared, determination etched on his face. "I'll make sure some of my officers are stationed there to keep watch over us."

Tears welled up in my eyes as the reality of our situation sank in. We were on the run, seeking refuge from a man who had already caused us so much pain. All I wanted to do was go back to that pond with Brandon and never leave again.

"What about school?" I queried, not because I was genuinely worried about it, but because I desired the comforting familiarity of my school routine. Not to mention, I craved the companionship of Ashley and Brandon. Ashley was the only soul who knew the full extent of what my father had inflicted upon us, and her unwavering support and soothe was something I needed to lean on now, more than ever.

"You'll have to take a break for a couple of weeks until he's apprehended," my mom responded, "But your teachers will send all your assignments to the hotel room."

The prospect of being confined to a hotel room, away from my friends and boyfriend, was certainly unappealing. Moreover, the fact that I couldn't even divulge the reason for my sudden disappearance was even more frustrating. However, knowing my father, I was certain he would be on our trail soon. We had to act swiftly, even if it meant uprooting our lives yet again. My hatred for my father intensified, as he had once again thrown our lives into turmoil.

With haste, we gathered our essential belongings; clothes, toiletries, and a few microwaveable meals. The drive to the hotel, which Martin had arranged for us, took about an hour. Much to our relief, it was a decent hotel and not some rundown place.

Our temporary abode was a top-floor room, boasting of separate living quarters partitioned by grand French doors. The kitchen was noticeably larger than what one might expect in a hotel room and the bathroom was adorned with a sizeable circular tub. It was comfortable enough, and I quickly claimed the living room as my own, transforming the couch into a makeshift bed, while Martin and my mom occupied the bedroom.

The passing week felt like an eternity, each day dragging on with a sense of boredom and restlessness that settled deep within me. The hotel room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a lonely prison as my mom and Martin constantly ventured off to the police station in their tireless pursuit of my deranged father.

Ashely, being the only person I had confided in about the truth, tried to conceal her worry, but I could see it in her eyes. She carried the weight of my secret, steadfast in her resolve to keep it locked away. Brandon, on the other hand, remained blissfully unaware. I had spun a tale of a spontaneous family vacation, conveniently omitting any mention of the danger lurking in our lives.

The guilt gnawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of the lie I had woven into the foundation of our blossoming relationship. It wasn't fair to start something so significant with such a monumental falsehood. I pondered on whether I should come clean to him countless times, until finally, I made up my mind and took out my phone.

Dialing Brandon's number, I braced myself for the conversation ahead. His enthusiastic voice greeted me on the other end, blissfully unaware of the impending revelation. "Hey sexy, how's your vacation going?" he asked, his tone laced with excitement.

"I actually need to talk to you about that. I need to be honest about some things. Can you drive out to Lancaster?" I requested, my voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and determination.

"What are you doing out there? I thought you were in Oregon?" confusion tainted his words.

"That's part of what I need to talk to you about," I responded, preparing myself for the difficult conversation ahead.

"Okay..." His voice held a hint of uncertainty and sadness. "Just to be clear, you're not breaking up with me, are you?"

"Of course not! You make me happy, and I really do like you. I promise this has nothing to do with you or us," I reassured him, hoping to quell any fears he may have.

"Okay, that's a relief," he sighed with gratitude. "Send me the address, and I'll be on my way to get you in a few."

We bid each other a quick goodbye and ended the call. I knew that defying my mother and Martin's expectations by leaving the hotel was a risk, but I needed to see Brandon. I needed to explain the situation with my father, in case he remained elusive for an extended period of time. I could be trapped in this hotel for quite a while, and Brandon deserved the truth.

To successfully evade detection by Martin's officers, I disguised myself in a black hoodie, sunglasses, and a bun that concealed my blonde hair. It was a necessary precaution to ensure that I could sneak out of the hotel room unnoticed and meet my boyfriend.

As soon as he texted me, indicating his arrival, I swiftly made my way through the hotel's corridors, heart pounding with adrenaline. Thankfully I was already on the first floor so I go through a door leading outside, my eyes scanning the parking lot for his familiar car. Spotting it, I hurriedly slipped into the passenger seat, greeted by the warmth of his lips pressed against mine in a passionate kiss.

"God, I missed you," he murmured between kisses, his desire for me evident. However, I forced myself to pull away, my mind focused on the task at hand. Confusion flickered in his eyes as he searched for an explanation.

"There is something you need to know," I began, taking a deep breath, steeling myself for the revelation that would change everything. "The reason why my biological father is such a sensitive subject is because about six years ago, he tried to murder me and my mother. He has always been mentally unstable, prone to violence and unpredictability, but that night, it wad a different level of rage." My voice wavered slightly as I recounted the horrifying memories.

"He used to hit my mom and me, especially my mom, but it rarely escalated beyond that. However, that night, he grabbed a knife and pursued us throughout the house. My mother bore the brunt of his attack, her back scarred for life from the countless cuts inflicted while shielding me. I, too, had some injuries, the knife penetrating my side and causing internal damage. We would have bled out that night if a neighbor hadn't heard our cries for help and alerted the police."

"Jesus Christ, Miya, I am so sorry. I had no idea," Brandon uttered, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Is he still in jail?"

"Well, that's why we're here. He managed to escape during a prison riot, and we believe he's intent on finishing what he started with me and my mom. Martin has deployed undercover officers throughout the hotel, but they haven't been able to apprehend him yet."

I watched as Brandon's face contorted with a mix of shock, concern, and determination. Worried about his reaction, I braced myself for what he would say next.

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Your stepdad will catch him, and you and your mom will be safe," he vowed, his words filled with resolute determination.

His reassurance brought me immense relief, and I reciprocated his sentiment with a passionate kiss. "I was so scared to confide in you. Ashley is the only other person who knows," I admitted, my voice filled with vulnerability.

"You can trust me with anything," he assured me, returning my kiss with a fervor that conveyed his sincerity. Aware that we had more than an hour until my mother and Martin would return to the hotel, we made the decision to park in a secluded area, away from prying eyes. In the dimly lit space, we found ourselves in the back seat, shedding our clothes, and succumbing to the raw desire that consumed us.

I straddled him, both of our discarded garments strewn haphazardly on the floor beside us, as we embarked on a journey of pleasure. Brandon may have lacked the same level of experience as me, but he possessed an innate understanding of how to ignite the fires of passion within me.

Our bodies moved in sync, our mouths locked in fervent kisses, and we panted in unison as the sound of our connection echoed through the confined space. The intensity escalated until we reached the pinnacle of ecstasy together, leaving us both in a state of awe and complete satisfaction.

Reluctantly, I knew it was time to return to the hotel, even though I desperately wanted to stay in the moment with Brandon. As we finished our passionate lovemaking, I hastily retrieved my disguise and hurriedly put it back on. Both of our bodies were drenched in sweat, our chests heaving with heavy breaths, and yet we couldn't resist stealing passionate kisses in the darkness, desperately clinging to the fading intensity.

Despite his offer to accompany me to the hotel room, I declined, fearing that our connection would attract unwanted attention. However, I promised to call him before bed, silently vowing to keep our connection alive. With a lingering goodbye kiss, we reluctantly parted ways.

Taking the elevator back up to my room, a knot of unease formed in the pit of my stomach. As I opened the hotel room door, my heart plummeted at the sight that awaited me. There, perched on the edge of the bed, was my father, an ominous presence. To my horror, a gun gleamed ominously in his hand, shattering any sense of safety and security I had left from my visit with Brandon.