The rage ignites; white-hot and incendiary. And the urge to protect her is even stronger than ever.
Exhaling slowly, I ask, “What happened after that?”
“I was in the hospital. Several times. First after the accident, and then for the surgeries. There were months of physical therapy. Crutches. I couldn’t drive because—” She angles her chin at her right leg.
“Did you have anyone to help you?”
Shit. Why did I ask that? Of course she would have.
Except… if she had people to help, why was she sleeping in her car? Why did she have to stay at the cabin last night? Why did she have to walk four fucking miles to work and back?
Vienna gives me a sad smile. “At first, I did. Coworkers at the restaurant where I worked in Troy. Some of my classmates in the paramedic program I was in. But over time, a lot of them got tired of driving me to appointments. It wasn’t convenient. Everyone started to make excuses.”
So theydesertedher?
Jaw tight with anger, I ask in a controlled tone, “Will you tell me what happened after? Why you ended up sleeping in your car? Because I don’t think it’s because you wanted to.”
She hesitates before shaking her head. “No, I didn’twantto. But it seemed like the best option. I wanted to start over, and I thought a couple of weeks of car camping wouldn’t be too bad. I researched it, you know. I went to at least ten thrift shops looking for cheap camping gear. I thought it would be worth it if it meant I could start over.”
I lean forward. “Why did you want to start over?”
There’s a long silence. Vienna’s gaze moves to the fireplace, and she stares at the blackened logs for a moment. Then she looks back at me. “I lost my job. Being a server, I couldn’t exactly wait tables on crutches. And being in and out of the hospital so much,I couldn’t find another job. Then… I lost my apartment. Because I wasn’t making any money.”
“Shit.”
“I had to drop out of school,” she continues. “I’d been so adamant about not taking out loans. But once I lost my job, I couldn’t pay for tuition. Then the hospital bills started coming in. I tried paying them with my credit card, but that only lasted so long.”
“Family?” I ask weakly.
“No. My mother left me behind when I was fifteen.” A bitter note sharpens her voice. “She thought I was old enough to take care of myself. So she just up and left. I spent the rest of high school in foster care.”
Shit.
“I thought I could work it all out,” Vienna adds. “I just needed a little more time. But then… I was staying with a coworker—well, an ex-coworker—in her apartment. I paid her what I could and cleaned everything to make up for it. I thought things were okay. Until her jerkwad boyfriend decided to get into bed with me one night.”
My head jerks back.“What?”
“Yeah. Fortunately, I stopped him before he could do anything. But I screamed. My roommate came running into the room, and her boyfriend gave her this ridiculous story about howItried to hook up with him. How I asked him to come into the room to help me and tried to seduce him.” Vienna makes a disgusted face. “He wore a backward baseball cap. And jeans that dragged around his butt. As if I’d try to seducehim, even if he wasn’t dating my friend?”
I’m still stuck on the part where this asshole climbed into Vienna’s bed without permission. My molars could shatter, I’m clenching them so hard.
“Anyway.” She makes a small gesture with her hand. “She believed him. Or she wanted to believe him, at least. And she told me I had to leave. Fortunately, she didn’t kick me out right then and there. She gave me a couple of weeks, which was just long enough to decide on Bliss and find a job here.”
“What about your other friends?” I ask once I trust myself to speak without yelling.
“They all worked at the restaurant. With her. It was easier for them to believe her than me.” Vienna gives another resigned smile. “Even though my leg was strong enough that I didn’t need rides anymore, they still thought of me as an inconvenience. A reminder of how life could turn to crap in a blink.”
“Vienna.”
“I could have stayed in Troy. Or someplace else upstate,” she adds. “Sleep in my car for a few weeks out there. But then I thought of Bliss. I lived here for a few months, back when I was ten. I really liked it. The town just seemed so… nice. Friendly. Almost like a big family.”
“How long ago was that?” I ask, mainly because I want to know how old Vienna is and my mother told me it’s not polite to come right out and ask a woman.
“Eighteen years,” she replies with a tiny smirk that tells me she knows exactly what I’m doing. “I know it could have changed a lot since then. But I drove here two weeks ago to interview for the dishwasher job atThe Laughing Goat, and the town seemed a lot like how I remembered it. The manager said I could sit to rest my leg during the slow times, so that was a big plus. And I figured it would be safe, camping in my car here. I just never imagined last night would happen.”
“Do you regret it? Stopping for the dog?”
Her response is immediate. “No. I’m still glad I did. If I’d kept going and something happened to the dog… I would have felt so guilty.” Her gaze dips to her lap. When it rises again, it’s all shiny. “He was alone. He could have been hit by a car. And no one would have been around to help…”
