Bitten (Once Bitten, Twice Shy #1)(19)

Tears of relief filled her eyes when she saw the lights and sign, but Katherine refused to let them fall. She hadn’t cried yet and couldn’t afford to give into the temptation now.

As she sped closer to the gas station, the small brunette could see that it even had a pay phone, located only a few feet from the right side of the building. It was practically screaming for her to use it. Glancing once more into the rearview mirror and seeing nothing but the darkness of night behind her, she hastily pulled into the gravel lot that surrounded the building and parked near one of the gas pumps.

Finally.

She could get help.

Katherine looked once more at the phone. Should she head straight for the little booth or ask for help from whoever was running the station? She shifted her gaze to the building’s entrance. She frowned when she noticed the group of rough-looking young men lounging against the brick wall near the double glass doors, a rusty white van parked not far away. How could she not have seen them before?

There were five of them, all wearing beat-up jackets. Even from a distance, Katherine could see that they were filthy. All five were laughing uproariously as one of them – the tallest one of the group, who had a red bandana wrapped around his greasy-looking hair – pointed in the direction of her car. In essence, they were exactly the type of men her mother had always warned her to stay away from.

Her mother. Dead. No! No, she was not dead and she was going to get her help right now! Decision made, Katherine grabbed the spare change she would need to be able to use the phone.

She glanced once more at the suspicious-looking men by the station’s door, and seeing that they no longer seemed to be paying her any mind, she quickly opened and closed her car door and rushed to the pay phone. When she got there, however, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a curse. “Damnit!”

The cord connecting the phone to the booth had been completely bitten through – no doubt by wild animals of some sort. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It was fine. So what if the phone didn’t work? Surely the gas station manager would help her.

Katherine hadn’t taken more than a few footsteps toward the building, however, when she realized something important. She was covered in copious amounts of blood. Who knew how whoever was running the station would react upon seeing her?

Katherine saw the restroom attached to the side of the building and made the split second decision to use it. She was certain she could get at least some of the blood off. She hurried to its entrance, determined to be in and out in less than a minute.

The room was positively grimy. The walls and floor were encrusted in dirt and other disgusting muck. The smell was even worse – a rancid odor originating from the door-less stalls and encompassing the whole room. Katherine forced herself to ignore the unsavory conditions of the dank place, however, and headed straight for the single, cracked mirror. She cringed when she saw herself.

She looked absolutely horrid – like something out of a horror movie. Her hair was a mess, wayward waves going in all kinds of directions and a part of it plastered down with dry blood. She gingerly touched the spot and flinched at the unexpectedly sharp pain. This was definitely where the throbbing in her head was originating from. It must have happened when her head had been thumped against her car.

Her clothes were in even worse shape than her brown locks. The jeans she wore weren’t too bad, but her blue top was covered in dark stains that she knew to be blood. Katherine didn’t even hesitate in tugging the shirt off. She turned on the sink’s faucet and waited a moment for the brownish-yellow water to run clear before sticking it underneath the stream. After rubbing out the stains as best as she could, she used the drenched shirt to wipe the dried blood from her face and scrub at her matted hair despite the dull pain it caused her.

Once finished, she rinsed the once-blue shirt out again before yanking it back over her head. She felt the goose bumps rise on her arms as the damp, cold shirt stuck to her skin.

Katherine then spent the next half a minute roughly washing her hands, desperate to get the blood off her arms despite the absence of soap or hot water. It was a difficult task as the pink stains extended all the way up to her elbows. She knew where they had come from. Her father. He had looked so lifeless when she had last seen him. But she refused to believe she had her dead father’s blood on her hands. Just absolutely refused to acknowledge the possibility.

Knowing that she’d done the best she could do, and not wanting to waste any more time, Katherine swiftly exited the unsanitary restroom, relieved to be rid of its odor. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she marched determinedly around the corner of the station and headed straight toward the building’s entrance.

She had resolved to ignore the men still loitering near the double doors. They were even grubbier up close – all five of them with sweat and grime caking their faces. And some even smelled worse than the restroom she’d just come from. She didn’t react when the bandana-clad man whistled and called out to her. “Hey, doll face. What brings ya ‘round these parts?”

Katherine quickly pulled the glass doors open, not turning to acknowledge the man. Relief flooded her senses as the doors closed behind her, making a resounding ding as they did so. She was so close to getting help.

The noise should have announced her presence to the manager, but no one greeted her as she walked up to the counter and there was no one behind the cash register either.