Property.
That’s what Robin Young was to Erika. Just like Mason had been, and the others before him. The difference was that Robin wasn’t being punished for something he’d done—although she could have lived without the endless screaming. Rather, he was suffering for something his father had done. Nobody screwed her over like that, and Erika was taking back her pride.
The truck rumbled to a stop, gas brakes huffing. The driver gave her a sideways glance and asked if she was okay. The truth was, Erika was far from okay. The crying baby in her arms had come complete with the bag of random baby items that she gripped in her left hand, and that was just about all she was equipped with. She’d never been a mother before—until now she’d never even thought about it—but this was the ideal time to start.
“You okay from here, lady?” the driver asked.
“I’m fine.” Erika cradled the baby in one arm and struggled to pull the bag strap up her shoulder. Juggling the two seemed impossible. She wondered how other mothers did it. “You could get the door though. It’d be a big help.”
That was all it took for the driver to knock open the door and spring from his seat. He trudged around the front of the truck, his dirty old beard and beer gut lit up in the fierce headlights as he passed, and opened the door on Erika’s side. From there, he took the bag from her and then held her hand as she struggled to step down.
“Watch your footing,” he said.
No shit, she thought, nearly dropping the baby when she touched the ground. She snatched the bag from his hands and scanned the area; it was the same road she’d been on earlier that day, only now it was miles farther on and cloaked in the dark of night. Erika gave a passing thought to killing the truck driver and eliminating the witness, but the passing cars made it too much of a risk. Besides, although she knew where to go from here, she hadn’t let him in on the short walk through the trees that she still had to take.
“Listen,” he said, closing the door behind her. Thunk. “It just don’t feel right to leave a vulnerable young lady out here in the middle of the road, much less with a baby in her arms. You sure you’re gonna be all right?”
“Yes,” she said with ire, raising her voice over the wails of young Robin. “And I’m not so vulnerable. Thanks for the ride, but you have to go now. There’s somewhere I have to be.”
The driver watched her like she’d just emerged from an alien ship. He stepped backward, only turning when his foot hit the road and a horn blared as a car zoomed by. Seconds later, he was back in his truck, which coughed and spat as he pulled away, leaving her alone on this dark stretch of road—finally, alone.
With the prized possession in her arms, Erika headed into the trees, carefully placing each foot among the dirt while she navigated in the dark. It crossed her mind that there could be foxes or badgers out here, but she couldn’t let that into her mind or she might lose her nerve. No matter what happened, she had to get this baby where it belonged. Only then could she consider this a victory. Only then could she play Mother.
The time dragged. Erika glanced at her watch, the digital face lighting up in the dark. It shocked her to see that only fifteen minutes had passed since she’d entered the woods, but at least the crying had stopped. She could hear the sounds of nature again, no longer drowned out by the throaty yells of young Robin. Chirping and stirring in the trees beyond sent a shiver down her spine, but she fought on until she reached the dirt path that she knew all too well.
She’d stayed here twice before as a young adult, back when her parents had stopped on long road trips. She couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she first stood at the far end of this path, gazing up at the structure beyond and wishing it could be hers someday. All she knew was that it was a part of her now—it’d been ingrained in her soul as a place so near and dear that to let it go—to even think about letting it go was no better than death itself.
But now? Now it was hers. At least it would be in a matter of minutes. It was the perfect place for her to hide, to wait, and to let time pass while she mothered the baby in her arms. When she knew she was in the clear—and not a moment sooner—she could decide if she wanted to keep it or dispose of it. After that, her new life would officially begin. Because either way, she’d have gotten one over on Morgan Young, and that was good enough for her.