A small bed
was pushed against the wall and next to it was a table that looked like it might collapse at any moment. There was a small microwave that looked functional and an even smaller TV with a rabbit ear antenna. Off to the side was a tiny bathroom with crumbling tile and rusted fixtures.
The room wasn’t much nicer and certainly not any cleaner than Dwight’s house, but it was
all hers. Sure, it wasn’t much but it was all she needed. It was a start.
S
arah tossed her backpack on the bed and remembered the new cell phone.
Miri
answered breathlessly halfway through the first ring. “Sarah?”
Oh, it was so wonderful to hear her friend’s familiar voice!
“Miri! I’m here!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Sarah! Are you okay
, honey?”
“Yes
, I’m fine. Everything is great. I’ve got a room and I’m safe.”
Hmm, t
hat was a peculiar word to say out loud.
Safe
. Sarah hadn’t felt safe in…well
ever
.
“Oh, good!
” Miri cried. Her excitement crackled through the phone line. “I’m so glad you made it. I talked to Peach again and she just can’t wait to meet you. She’s expecting you at the salon tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“Do you know how to get to the salon from your new place?”
“Yes,” Sarah assured her. “I’ve got the map and directions you printed out for me.”
“Great. Well, good luck tomorrow, Sarah. You’re going to do just fine.”
“Thank you,
Miri.”
Miri
let out a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“Me too.”
Sarah ended the call and tucked the phone back into her purse.
A TV blared from the room on the left and the people in the room on the right started arguing. It was a familiar sound.
The soundtrack of her life. The door across the hall slammed and Sarah jumped. She took a deep breath, went to the door and double-checked that the locks were secure. They were.
Now all she needed to do was
make herself at home.
S
he unpacked her clothes and hung them up hoping the wrinkles would disappear by morning. She didn’t have an iron and the motel wasn’t the type of place to provide one.
The motel didn’t offer HBO, a pool or a free continental breakfast but Sarah didn’t need any
of those things. She had a roof over her head, money in her pocket and a new job to go to in the morning. Right now that was all that mattered.
Speaking of money, Sarah took half of the cash out of her backpack and hid the rolled up bills under the bathroom sink. She didn’t trust leaving her money in the motel room, but it was too much cash to carry around with her. What if she was mugged out on the street and left with nothing? If there was one thing Sarah had learned from Dwight it was not to leave all of your dope in one stash.
She hoped the girls in the salon didn’t notice she only had a couple of outfits to her name and that they’d come from a thrift store. She’d have to mix and match what she had for now. Once she built up her clientele, she’d be able to expand her wardrobe.
In the bathroom, sh
e took out her toiletries and set them on the cracked countertop. Sarah eyed the bathtub. Living with Dwight and Troy, she’d never been able to indulge in privacy long enough to take a bath. A quick shower was all she’d been allowed before Dwight would start pounding the door down. A bubble bath sounded like the perfect way to end the day.
After a few hard cranks, the faucet turned on
and she stripped out of her clothes while the water ran. The tub barely filled halfway when the hot water ran out, but Sarah didn’t mind. She was thankful to have warm water at all.
She
remembered the gift set in her backpack and hurried to get it. She poured a couple drops of bubble bath into the bathtub, just enough to make a few bubbles and fill the room with the smell of lavender. She couldn’t wait to wash the long bus ride from her skin and she was looking forward to her hair not smelling like Dwight’s cigarettes.
S
lowly, she lowered herself into the tub and sunk into the scented bubbles. The warm water felt exquisite. She winced when her bruised knee touched the side of the porcelain. She looked down at her bruised body and sighed. Thanks to Dwight, her legs and arms were marbled with bruises that stood out in contrast to her pale skin. They were black, blue and purple with some greenish and yellowish ones that were more healed than the others. Her upper arms bore the brunt of Dwight’s rage. He was constantly grabbing her by the arm and yanking her around like a ragdoll.
S
arah squeezed her eyes shut to block out the pitiful sight. She didn’t need to look at the bruises to know they were there. There was a baseball-sized one on her rib cage from when Dwight had pushed her down and kicked her for bringing home the wrong brand of cigarettes. The convenience store had run out of his usual brand and she’d been afraid to come home empty-handed so she’d improvised. That had been a mistake.
T
he greenish one on her arm was a stinging reminder of when she’d come home late from work. It had taken weeks to turn from black to green because Dwight had used a flashlight instead of his fist.
The
n there was the extra tender one on her inner thigh from when she didn’t bring home Troy’s beer. She’d used the beer money to buy a sandwich because she hadn’t eaten in two days. The bruise was temporary but unfortunately so was the sensation of having a full stomach.
Sarah leaned back in the tub,
breathed out a ragged sigh and tried to push the mental images away into the corners of her mind. She would never let Dwight Hammond or his son put their hands on her again. He wouldn’t hit her or bruise her or yell at and belittle her.
Never
, ever,
ever
again.
Chapter Five
Practice Makes Perfect
Nathan gritted his teeth and raised himself up out of the ice bath. The frigid temperature took his breath away as well as the muscle swelling. It was like taking a plunge into the Arctic Ocean but it helped his body recover after the grueling practice.
After a quick shower, Nathan left the locker room feeling
confident. He’d had a good workout and an even better practice. He worked on his technique and a variety of drills including foot-speed drills, crease movement drills and fundamental saves drills. When the season started, he would be physically ready for it.
On his way out, Nathan ran into
Claude, the Razors goalie coach.
“I don’t want to see you here tomorrow, Connors.”
Nathan frowned. “Why not, Coach? Is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine. You’re doing phenomenal. That’s why I don’t want to see you. You need to take a day off. Rest,
sleep in, go out, just don’t come here.”
“But training camp is
going to be here before we know it and I need to be ready.”
“You
are
ready, Con. You’ll be skatin’ circles around the other guys you’re so ready. Go out and treat yourself to some fun. I don’t want to see you here tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. You look great out there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, your game is good. You’ve got the perspective and the patience. In fact, you look good enough for Coach to put you in for the first game. But that’s not what worries me. It’s the mental part that’s going to end up biting you in the ass.”
Nathan
couldn’t argue so he just nodded his head in response.
Claude slapped Nathan on the back, told him to enjoy his day off and disappeared around the corner.
Nathan continued down the hallway in a haze. What was he going to do with an entire day off? That many hours away from the rink would give him way too much time to think. And that’s when he always got into trouble.
When he came around the corner,
Nathan saw TJ Pomatto leaving the front offices.
TJ looked up and his eyes widened.
“Con, is that you? Holy shit!”
They clapped each other on the back in a brief hug.
“Hey TJ. It’s good to see you.”
Nathan and TJ had grown up together in
Colorado. When TJ was a teenager, he was given the opportunity to play for a west coast team so he and his family moved to California. Now TJ was the goalie for the Red Valley Vikings, the Razors minor league affiliate. If Sebby or Nathan weren’t able to play, TJ would be called up as their back-up.
There was a time when Nathan considered TJ his closest friend. But the last two years had caused Nathan to distance himself from everyone
, including the people who had meant the most to him. Nathan blamed losing touch on the geographical distance but he wasn’t fooling anyone but himself.
TJ stood back and surveyed his friend. “
I can’t believe it’s you. You’re so pale, man!”
Nathan looked down at his arms and then at TJ’s golden tan. It looked like
TJ had spent his summer on the lake. Knowing TJ, that’s probably exactly what he did.
“I spent all summer in the gym,” Nathan explained.
“And on the ice.”
“You work too hard,
Con.”
Nathan shrugged.
“Maybe. But I’m game day ready, man.”
“You always were the overachiever,” TJ said with a shake of his head.
“Hey, I left you a message.”
Most of Nathan’s new teammates had left him messages welcoming him to the team but he hadn’t returned them.
Nathan sighed. He didn’t have a good excuse for why he hadn’t returned TJ’s call. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten around to calling you back,” he answered lamely.
Concern flashed in TJ’s eyes and Nathan silently wondered when people would stop looking at him like that.
Two years apparently hadn’t been long enough for people to stop handling him with kid gloves.
“
So, what are you doing here?” Nathan asked in an effort to change the subject.
“There’s a hot chick who works in the
Front Office and I’m wearing her down.”
“You seal the deal?”
“Nah. She’s not as hot as I first thought.”
Nathan nodded. That was code for “She turned me down flat.”
“You wanna get a bit to eat or something?” TJ asked.
“Sure. That sounds g
ood.”
“Then I’ve got to get back to
my Mom’s salon.” TJ rolled his eyes. “My Dad has me working over there like I’m a part of his crew or something.”
“What
does he have you doing?”
“First we gutted the place and now I have to start painting.”
“Is your mom finally remodeling the salon?”
“Yeah.
She bought the space next door and is expanding everything.”
“That’s great.”
“You should stop by and hang out.”
“
Okay, I wouldn’t mind saying hi to your mom.”
“
Cool. She’s got some hot chicks working for her. Ya need a haircut, Con?”
Chapter Six
Peach and Bean
From the street, there was no mistaking that Sarah had the right address. The outside of Peach’s Salon was painted peach, had a matching orange awning and if there was still any doubt, peach letters on the big picture window spelled out the salon name in a decorative font.
Sarah
had arrived with plenty of time to acclimate herself to her new surroundings. She was still jumpy and had to keep reminding herself that Dwight had no idea where she was. Even so, she still found herself looking over her shoulder, half expecting to find him lurking behind her ready to grab her and haul her kicking and screaming back to L.A.
Paranoia pushed aside, Sarah
squared her shoulders and drew inspiration from the kick ass heroines in the books she loved so much. They always knew just what to do and say in every situation. She could be like that. She would be brave and fearless even though it might be a little scary at first. This was her new life and she could write it any way she wanted.
She could do this. She’d waited
years for an opportunity like this and she wasn’t going to let the demons of the past ruin it for her. She had the skill—Miri had made sure of that--she had the determination and she’d just have to wing it on the whole being sociable thing. Motivation, which she had by the truckload, was empowering.
Strangers weren’t so bad, she reminded herself. It was the people who knew you that did the most damage.
After a few deep breaths and a mental note to keep her fidgeting to a minimum, Sarah worked up the courage to go inside.
Peach’s Salon was
a beautiful sight. The walls were covered with peach wallpaper, there were pillows with little peaches embroidered on them that matched the wallpaper and a bowl of artificial peaches on the front desk. The furniture was painted a lively color of peach and it even
smelled
like peaches inside.