Chapter 13

A half-formed plan was in Charity's mind when she gained the temporary sanctuary of the bathroom; it was a plan to make good her flight from that house that was no longer a home. She had to act, decisively, on the instant. There was no time to lose!

Turning on the taps, she refreshed herself, quickly; then, leaving the water running and hoping the sound would cover her movements, she went into her own bedroom, rummaged in the drawers for clean panties and bra and put them on to cover her curvaceous nakedness.

In her closet, she found a long-neglected airline flight bag and stuffed in extra underwear, a couple of blouses, a slip and a skirt. Not daring to take time for packing more than that, she slipped on a pair of shoes and tiptoed out of her room, across the dining room to the kitchen and on out to the back porch to Donnie's little cubicle of a room.

She put the small canvas flight bag on his mussed bed and delved into his closet. She found one of his shirts and a pair of blue jeans. Putting them on, she shrugged the jeans over her swelling hips and found they fit her rather tightly, but she was afraid to take more time to look for a larger pair. Next, she found one of Donnie's old baseball type hats and put it on, trying to tuck up her long, auburn hair to confine it, somewhat. One of her brother's windbreakers completed her outfit. A womanly glance in the mirror told her that she had not really made a transformation. It had been a vague hope that she would be able to disguise herself well enough to pass for a boy, but the swell of her hips and buttocks inside the jeans and the tell-tale shape of full-mounding breasts showing under the boy's shirt could not be hidden. It would have to do, she decided, knowing that time wasted now could be her undoing.

Her mind was clear, and she was alert and ready. Picking up the light bag, she eased herself from Donnie's room, her ears attuned for any sound within the old house. Good! He was still in the bedroom... hopefully, sound asleep, or merely lounging at ease, at least.

Nimbly, she slipped through the back door and ran, lightly across the back yard toward the rear gate opening into the alley. Her heart pounded with excitement. She was going to make it!

"CHARITY!"

It was Gabe! His commanding voice stopped her in her tracks. Oh, God... no!

She turned to face him, absolute dread in her. He stood at the back door, still nude, his face contorted with anger.

"Where the hell are you going?" he demanded.

"I-I'm leaving... for good!" she said and turning walked through the gate into the alley, realizing that he could not possibly pursue her... naked.

"Come back here!" he yelled.

Charity kept walking. She didn't look back when she heard Gabe slam the back door.

It was a little after 1:00 p.m. when she thumbed a ride downtown, and from there walked out along the street designated as an interstate highway through town. Soon, she was out of the congested area, and she walked along, alert to the traffic, her thumb waving, asking, mutely, for a ride, willing to take her chances with whomever she rode... as long as they were going East.

Jack Leonard rolled to his side from his cradled position between Charity's mother's long, smooth tapering thighs, his thick cock sliding out of her gently clasping vaginal passage with a slight pop, a thin filament of semen connecting them for an instant, until he was on his back, and it finally broke. He was completely satiated, and he looked over at her appreciatively, taking in the curvy, youthful appearing contours of her body through still sex-hungry eyes. He had picked her up in the Palomino Club; she had seemed to be waiting for someone, but whoever he was, the man had not shown.

Jack had walked over to her booth, where she sat alone, and struck up an inane conversation, both of them knowing it was a pick-up attempt. He had not been wrong; she went with him willingly... and she had been great in bed. This was his second evening with her.

She fluffed a pillow for him and put it against the headboard while he rummaged for a pack of cigarettes, lighting one for himself and offering her one, too.

"No, thanks, I don't smoke... remember," she said, smiling over at him, relaxed... sexually satisfied, herself.

He drew smoke into his lungs and studied the glowing end of his cigarette, thoughtfully, then he said, "Dottie... I've been trying to figure you out... you're a damned beautiful woman... all alone, here in Phoenix... playing the part of a hooker... but there's something about you... you're not a real pro, at all. There's something domestic about you... like you ought of have a husband and kids..."

Dottie's eyes glistened. It was strange, this man's insight into her, his being able to look beyond the obvious, and she responded to it.

"I-I have two children..." she murmured.

"Boys... ?"

"A boy... a-and a g-girl..."

"Husband... ?"

She was thoughtful for a moment, trying to judge just how much she should tell this big, rangy stranger. Finally, she said, "He's basically a g-good man... but I-I..."

"... But, what... ?" he prodded.

"H-He drinks... and can't hold a j-job..."

"... And, you've had to support him... and the kids?"

"I... I ran away..." she confessed.

It was his turn to be thoughtful before answering, "Well... I can see you had quite a burden... but why run away from it?"

Dottie turned away from him, her face to the wall, the tears running freely and unchecked, now. She sobbed, "Our l-lives... absolute m-mess... you'd n-never believe..."

"Why don't you try... ?"

"Wh-What do you m-mean... ?"

"Tell me about it... I listen good..."

Little by little, detail by sordid detail, he was able to draw the story from her, asking questions, listening to her answers, trying to see things from her point of view, but not making any comments. When her recounting of all that happened up to the point of her leaving and subsequent arrival in Phoenix was finished, he told her. "I can understand most of it... and I can sure see that you had had as much as you could stand... but there's one thing I think you made a mistake on... you should have gathered up that young daughter of yours and taken her with you... !"

It was the brutal truth. She recognized it for that, and she was immediately contrite, willing to admit that she was wrong. "Oh, God... you're right... that was when she needed me the most... wasn't it!" She was clear-eyed and decisive, now.

Later, dressed and ready to leave her, there in her motel room, Jack Leonard had made a decision to involve himself in Dottie's life. He said, off-handedly, "I've got to make a run over to L.A., tomorrow... how'd set with you if I stopped by, on my way back... and bring your daughter back here to Phoenix with me... ?"

It was an answer to her unspoken prayers. "Oh, Jack... would you... ? I know it's the right thing... now!"