Trailer Trash

For about half of a second he considered leaving the life, taking Monica with him to Mexico, and spending the rest of his days on the beach with her next to him.



For about half of a second.



Nobody just decided to retire from the life. No one just up and left the organization. It took a lot more than that. In the last four years Nick had heard about two trying, and never to be heard of again. Rumors circled, but you never believed rumors. Only one had ever left, and he was an old friend of the big man.



For that half of a second, all of the hatred and anger and spite he had felt since he was 12 and out on his own had left him. What replaced it was a warm and calm feeling. A feeling of......happiness.



Well, it was nice, but he lived in the real world. He was a snatcher of girls who would be sold like cattle to be some pervert\'s sex slave for the rest of her probably short life. He had snatched hundreds of girls. Sometimes two or three a night.



That was his claim to fame. He would find girls who had best friends in similar situations, wait until they went out to party for the night, or have a sleepover with the parents gone, and in he wold go and get two or three at once. His best night he had snatched four. They "sent" letters that they had ran away together to help teh one, unidentified, girl who was pregnant. Only one of the families raised even a fuss, and it was short lived after another letter was delivered to them accusing the step-father of raping her.



That is why he knew he had raised some eyebrows with getting just the one girl this time, but it happens. You take what you can get.



All his life he didn\'t see any way out of the shitty card he had been dealt. He had seen it in others, and just thought it was the way it was. You are thrown this hard knock shit, and you got through it. Some used drugs, booze, some offed themselves, and some got into illegal activity.



Like him.



He had taken these girls, knowing somewhere in his head that what was happening to them, where they were and who had them, that all of it was not much worse than the lives they would have led anyway.



A life like his sister would have lived.



Like his mother had lived.



He drove by Holly\'s former home, and like clock work, there was one cop car there. Outside the uncle and aunt were talking to the two men in blue, with shaking heads and angry looks. Shit they hadn\'t even got the letter yet telling them she had split. This one was working out well, which gave him some relief.



As he turned the corner to his street, he saw a black Lexis driving slowly by. It passed him going the opposite way, and though he could not see into the dark tinted windows, he knew who they were, even if he didn\'t see their faces.



The organizatin was following him. Checking up on him.



That mother fucker Calvin was having him watched.



Back at his place he didn\'t see the old Kia in the drive, so he was again relieved because Monica was still at work.



He knew, now, that he could leave. He could take off and get the fuck away before he did something that could get him, or Monica, killed.





When Monica pulled in to lot 29, she already knew that he was gone.



She went in to her trailer, and set her keys on the entrance table, and headed to the bathroom to wash the grease off of her face. When she got in there, however, instead of seeing the lines under her eyes, and her limp hair, there was a note taped to the mirror.



Monica,

Come to the Krispy Kreme and order a doughnut, then go to the bathroom.

Ian



What the hell? What was this?



She didn\'t take the time to think, she got in her car and drove the five blocks to the doughnut shop. She got out, went in, went to the counter and ordered a glazed and a coffee. She headed into the bathroom, and looked around.



In the last stall, Ian was waiting, leaning against the open door with his head down.



"Ian? What\'s going on? Why am I meeting you in a bathroom?"



He finally looked up at her, and it took every bit of strength he had left. She had this look of confusion and pain on her beautiful face. He wanted to take that pain away, but he didn\'t have time.



He went to her and grabbed her face in his big hands and made her look up into his face, "Mon, it\'s okay. I need to split, like I said, but I lied to you. I lied about almost everything. The only thing I didn\'t lie about what the one thing I didn\'t even say."



His voice was savage, and she was afraid, but as she looked into his narrowed eyes, and felt his hands tight on her face, her fear left and in it\'s place a deep sorrow remained, "I don\'t care, Ian. I don\'t care, just don\'t leave. We\'ll handle whatever it is together."



"That\'s just it!" he shook her face and she began to cry, "I can\'t stay and you can\'t go with me. This is it, and you have to fucking forget you ever knew me. Do you understand? You never fucking knew me! I was just some neighbor that fixed your fucking shower, and that\'s it. You gave me 30 bucks for it, and that was it? If anyone comes around asking about me, you know nothing!"



"Who? Who is gonna ask? What\'s going on?"



"I can\'t tell you!" he pushed her face away and made her stumble backwards before she caught herself.



He turned his back to her, and said in a broken whisper, "What I never said is that I\'m falling in love with you. Now, I have to pretend I don\'t know you. I\'ve seen a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but never felt much about it. Then a fucking bitch like you makes me feel something. I wish I had never even fucking met you."



With that he turned and left without even looking at her again. She crumpled to the floor, and sobbed with her face buried in her hands. Her mind would not even work to try to figure out all the cryptic things he had said.







That night after coming home and avoiding even looking at the now empty trailer next to hers, she showered, ate an apple, and was now just sitting on her sofa staring at a television program that she was not actually watching. She was numb. It was as if someone had broken her back instead of her heart, because she felt paralysed.



How can one man who she had known for only a few days given her more pleasure, more happiness and more pain than 21 years with her mother?



For some reason, her body working without her consent, she got up, made her way out of her mobile home, and to Ian\'s door. Her mind returned to the first time she had knocked, just those few days ago. Her mind returned to that night, feeling secure and protected as she drank the brandy and felt her heart release her deep pain to a stranger. She thought about the next night, his embrace, his touch, her climax while this man was inside of her, lying in his arms and feeling his heart beat through his chest and his hot breath through her hair.



Her hand reached for the door knob. It turned easily and she pushed open the door. Inside it was pitch dark except for the light coming through the slits in the torn brown curtains. There was his small bit of furniture, but no sign that he had ever been there. She walked through to the bed that they had shared, now empty of the sheets and blanket on top of which he had made love to her, and she went to it, falling into a silent, dreamless sleep.