Stranger No Danger

Falling For the Stranger, Part 2

As I was paying, the TV in the background started playing a news channel covering my trafficking story. I froze in cold trepidation as the narrator described five more trafficking victims, all young women, found in various rooms of the hotel. They had arrested several of the henchmen involved but had yet to identify and catch the master-woman behind it all. She was suspected to be on the run somewhere in Northern Oregon. Probably near Simplestreet, I thought, my limbs stiffening with dread.

"We will keep you updated as this every-parents'-nightmare story continues to unfold," the newscaster said. I rushed back to Arlen and tearfully updated him.

"Five more girls," I said, my voice wavering. "That's all they've found so far, though. There might be more. Holy shit. They said a few of them had been raped and significantly injured. What if I was raped while knocked out? Oh my god, I could've been, I was unconscious for two entire days."

I paced back and forth under the gas station awning. Arlen tried to reassure me but I continued my panic induced spiral. He then suddenly wrapped me in his arms and held me tightly against his chest.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured into my ear. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. I promise I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're alright."

I stayed silent at first but then began weeping softly against his chest. We stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Eventually, I pulled away from him, but like before, our faces became excruciatingly close.

"Michelle..." he started hesitantly.

I stepped away and blurted out, "Alright, this is going to sound absolutely crazy Arlen, but I think I've fallen in love with you." The words spilled shamelessly out before I could stop them. Shit. Why would you say that? Fucking dumbass, I mentally yelled at myself.

He was speechless at first, but then offered an awkward, "Oh, that's... nice."

Goddamnit. I hurried back into the car, more embarrassed than I'd been in my entire life. I could've sworn my cheeks had caught fire.

He slowly got back into the car too and even though I was avoiding his gaze I could tell he was looking at me.

"Look..." he started again, but I cut him off.

"It's fine, forget it, let's just go," I snapped, utterly humiliated.

He paused, probably thinking about saying something but started the car instead.

The next couple of hours were absolutely miserable. As if I had enough to think about, with the possibility of having been raped alongside my two days of being held captive, I had just professed my love to somebody I had known for a grand total of three days. Maybe it's all the trauma and emotions, I reasoned foolishly.

We drove in silence until we reached the next gas station, about three hours away from San Francisco. I probably opened the door before the car even came to a full stop, I was so anxious to get out and be more than a foot away from him. Arlen called my name again but I marched straight into the store to use the restroom. When I returned to the car he was still pumping gas and had an indiscernible look on his face. He looked up as I approached.

"So I talked to the cashier," I started abruptly. "They said there's a Greyhound station about an hour and a half from here that I can use. It'll take all day but if I catch the 8 AM bus I'll be back in Los Angeles tonight. Could you take me there? He wrote the address down."

I shoved a piece of paper in his hand and got back into the car before he could say anything.

Arlen finished filling the tank and opened the driver's side door.

"Wait, Michelle, are you sure? I can take you down to the Bart in San Francisco, that will be safer. It's only three more hours-" he started.

"Yes. Look, I truly appreciate everything you've done for me, but I need to get home," I interrupted, still avoiding eye contact. "I'd rather not be a bother to you anymore. Thank you."

He stood still outside the car for a minute before giving a small, "Alright." and starting the engine again. After programming the address into the car's GPS, he turned on the radio so that this time it wouldn't be a completely silent ride.

At some point during the journey the radio host began saying something that immediately caught our attention.

"As for the human trafficking case that has been rapidly developing at Hamilton Hotel in Juniper, Oregon, there have been some major updates. Oregon police have arrested more suspects that were involved in the known kidnappings of six women so far. They have also tracked other suspects that have currently made their way into Northern California."

I stiffened and shared a look of concern with Arlen. He instinctively looked in the rear and side view mirrors as if to catch a glimpse of our pursuers in the night's darkness.

"Do you think... they'll be able to find us here in California?" I asked quietly. A new wave of fear had washed over me.

"I don't know." Arlen gripped the steering wheel harder. "I don't think it's safe for you to take the Greyhound now."

I considered it for a moment and shook my head. "They'll think I'm with you. At least if I'm taking the Greyhound I won't be putting you at risk too. I think it's safer."

Arlen opened his mouth to object but closed it and gave a tight nod. I knew he didn't like the plan but I was right; they weren't likely to figure out I'd take a bus without him. He turned the volume down until it served as soft background noise but so we could still hear any important updates.

The Greyhound station location became closer and closer. Before I knew it, we were 20 minutes away, and every fiber of my body had started to protest the fact that I was going to be leaving Arlen. A tiny voice in my head kept saying, You're safer with him, no matter how uncomfortable it is, but I ignored it. I couldn't help but feel sad about the fact that we were going our separate ways, though. 

As we pulled into the parking lot of the station, I felt myself welling up and wanting to blurt out "I was kidding about the love stuff!" just so I could stay with him the rest of the way to San Francisco. Except, I admitted unwillingly to myself, I wasn't kidding.

We unloaded the small amount of belongings Arlen had bought for me. He silently accompanied me to the station, where I bought my ticket for Los Angeles. I followed him back outside where we exchanged an awkward hug and a few brief goodbyes and "stay safes". To my dismay I felt myself tearing up again and had to physically sit down on a bench to keep myself from running after him. Through blurry vision I watched him get back into the car and start it.