the girl was great. After paying the tab, Timmy took Cherri away. She hadn’t even changed out of her uniform.
Over the course of the first few months he’d given her everything that he could, which wasn’t much. He earned his living off of robbing people. Once in a while, he landed an odd job. He didn’t want her to work, he could be sweet like that and when they made love it was gentle ; mostly. When money was tight or non-existent and stress levels were high, he would drink heavy and slap her around. Once in a great while, he would punch her. He always apologized, sometimes he’d even cry and Cherri knew that he loved her. He didn’t mean to hit her. He felt awful about hitting her.
How could he possibly be such a bad guy ?
He lacked self-control. He couldn’t help it and he punished himself for abusing her. He would cut himself with razors or sharp knives. Usually he would slice into his shoulders and arms, but sometimes he’d cut his legs. The pain settled him.
Now, cramped in the truck between Terrance and Timmy, Cherri’s eyes drooped. Her head bobbled to the side. She rested near Timmy’s shoulder and soon she dreamed of a normal life ; a boring life with a small house and a cat. Maybe, in this dream, she could have a secretarial job in an office and Timmy could work at a mechanic shop. They could reside in a small town where they could live easy.
3
Terrance was startled awake. The late night wind had gone from soothing to chilly. He looked out the passenger side window. There wasn’t a car in sight. They were turning into a gas station—no, it was a liquor store.
Timmy tapped the brakes, slowing the truck down. They turned right. Terrance rubbed his eyes with his fists. Light gleamed in through the windshield. A green neon sign blared from above. Looking out the back window, then the front, Terrance saw cornfields, road, and the store. The neon sign read ‘Buggy’s Liquor.’ Beyond the store, past an acre of cornfield, there was a small farmhouse resting on top of the hill, all the windows were dark.
Sitting up, Terrance turned to Cherri. She too was awake and stared at the store.
Timmy meant to rob the place. Terrance knew it and he was excited. They were running low on cash and the store was more than ideal, it was perfect. It was far away from everything and anything. It was too rural for a fast reaction force from the local police. They could take their time. Terrance and Timmy had knocked off enough liquor stores to know that the only real security in a place like this was the infamous gun that always and stereotypically rested beneath the cash register.
“You want to stop and scope it out, or just rush it?” Terrance asked. He slowly crooned his head toward Timmy. Terrance rubbed his hands together, successively.
“I say we rush it. Cherri was right, they’re about to close. We’ll be the last customers, grab what we need, tie up the clerk, and take off. The morning clerk will let them go. We’ll be well past the state line by then and no one gets hurt.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Terrance said. He leaned forward and retrieved his nine millimeter pistol. It was stuffed below his belt loop. He slid the chamber open and made sure it was loaded. He set it on his lap and flipped the safety off.
“I don’t want to do this.” Cherri chimed in.
Terrance wondered why Timmy was so in love with Cherri. It was obvious that she wouldn’t continue with this lifestyle and this lifestyle was Timmy’s destiny, it was all he knew. If Timmy really loved Cherri—as much as he said that he did—then he should leave her. In the big scheme of things, leaving her was the most unselfish act that Timmy could perform. He could leave her on the side of a road in some offbeat Podunk town. Maybe she would find a job. She could make a little life for
Over the course of the first few months he’d given her everything that he could, which wasn’t much. He earned his living off of robbing people. Once in a while, he landed an odd job. He didn’t want her to work, he could be sweet like that and when they made love it was gentle ; mostly. When money was tight or non-existent and stress levels were high, he would drink heavy and slap her around. Once in a great while, he would punch her. He always apologized, sometimes he’d even cry and Cherri knew that he loved her. He didn’t mean to hit her. He felt awful about hitting her.
How could he possibly be such a bad guy ?
He lacked self-control. He couldn’t help it and he punished himself for abusing her. He would cut himself with razors or sharp knives. Usually he would slice into his shoulders and arms, but sometimes he’d cut his legs. The pain settled him.
Now, cramped in the truck between Terrance and Timmy, Cherri’s eyes drooped. Her head bobbled to the side. She rested near Timmy’s shoulder and soon she dreamed of a normal life ; a boring life with a small house and a cat. Maybe, in this dream, she could have a secretarial job in an office and Timmy could work at a mechanic shop. They could reside in a small town where they could live easy.
3
Terrance was startled awake. The late night wind had gone from soothing to chilly. He looked out the passenger side window. There wasn’t a car in sight. They were turning into a gas station—no, it was a liquor store.
Timmy tapped the brakes, slowing the truck down. They turned right. Terrance rubbed his eyes with his fists. Light gleamed in through the windshield. A green neon sign blared from above. Looking out the back window, then the front, Terrance saw cornfields, road, and the store. The neon sign read ‘Buggy’s Liquor.’ Beyond the store, past an acre of cornfield, there was a small farmhouse resting on top of the hill, all the windows were dark.
Sitting up, Terrance turned to Cherri. She too was awake and stared at the store.
Timmy meant to rob the place. Terrance knew it and he was excited. They were running low on cash and the store was more than ideal, it was perfect. It was far away from everything and anything. It was too rural for a fast reaction force from the local police. They could take their time. Terrance and Timmy had knocked off enough liquor stores to know that the only real security in a place like this was the infamous gun that always and stereotypically rested beneath the cash register.
“You want to stop and scope it out, or just rush it?” Terrance asked. He slowly crooned his head toward Timmy. Terrance rubbed his hands together, successively.
“I say we rush it. Cherri was right, they’re about to close. We’ll be the last customers, grab what we need, tie up the clerk, and take off. The morning clerk will let them go. We’ll be well past the state line by then and no one gets hurt.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Terrance said. He leaned forward and retrieved his nine millimeter pistol. It was stuffed below his belt loop. He slid the chamber open and made sure it was loaded. He set it on his lap and flipped the safety off.
“I don’t want to do this.” Cherri chimed in.
Terrance wondered why Timmy was so in love with Cherri. It was obvious that she wouldn’t continue with this lifestyle and this lifestyle was Timmy’s destiny, it was all he knew. If Timmy really loved Cherri—as much as he said that he did—then he should leave her. In the big scheme of things, leaving her was the most unselfish act that Timmy could perform. He could leave her on the side of a road in some offbeat Podunk town. Maybe she would find a job. She could make a little life for
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