Chapter 15

Nat was packing as fast as she could. All she had to collect her things was a small suitcase and a backpack, but she made due. She opted for clothes first, picking out whatever would last the longest until she could find a source of cash. Since she was heading further south, unfortunately, thicker clothes would not bode well, so she took what she could get. Next it was toiletries; her soaps and toothpaste, along with a bit of makeup.

She looked into her bag and then her room. Her room still seemed so full; full of the past twenty years of her life. But her bag could only hold so much, and memories were not a priority. She took what she could of the small bits of good she made in this life; photos of friends still around and photos of those who moved on, the Zippo lighter her first boyfriend gave her, and a couple small prizes from trips down at Del Perro.

She could only hope that she could sneak out of the house without her parents making a fuss. But she was given no such luck when she heard her door being knocked on and then thrown open. Her father stood in the doorway, his chest puffed up like some predatory alpha male, making him look 10 feet tall. Her mother stood behind him, peeking around her husband to see their daughter.

Her mother looked meek and shy, probably because of the enraged demeanor of her father. Natalie was sure by the way she acted when her husband was pissed off that he had struck her a few times behind closed doors. But to let anyone know this would lead to scandal, so her mother kept tight lipped. Despite her shyness, she still looked ready to stand behind her husband in whatever goal he wanted out of this.

The goal wasn't hard to figure out. He jabbed a finger at her, "Did you steal from the liquor store?" His voice was loud and filled with menace, doing what he knew best to intimidate those he found lesser than him.

Natalie was not so easily cowed by her father's anger. Grabbing her suitcase and staring right back at him, his eyes boring into her with seething rage, which she met with teenage passiveness, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He advanced towards her in only two steps, grabbing her arm and jerking her roughly closer, "If I find out you were involved, I swear-"

She jerked her arm back to her side, glancing for a moment at her mother. She looked almost like she wanted to speak up, her hands near her mouth, but Natalie knew better to find any safety in her mother, "I did, okay? Let me leave."

His face somehow got redder, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckled were paper white. If he wasn't as much of the law-abiding citizen he prided himself on being, he could've torn her head off. "You what?!"

She rolled her eyes, playing oblivious to his near violent demeanor, "I was the driver. I crashed the car and ran before the cops-"

She was cut off abruptly by a firm smack across her face. She knew who was the one to hit her, but her eyes went right back to her mother again. Her mother stood frozen and wide eyed, in shock to see her daughter harmed in such a way. Natalie did what she could to convey an ask for help, for her mother to step up once in her life, to prove to Nat that she evened cared about her. But she stood on the sidelines, like she always did and she didn't even have the shame to look away at the mess she was allowing to happen.

Natalie didn't fight back with her father after that, taking the medicine he deemed righteous, all so she could leave this place. His hand was back on his arm, nearly squeezing it to death as he dragged her out of the house. She was thrown onto the front lawn roughly, leaving dirt and grass stains across her clothing. Her father was screaming obscenities at her that sounded a lot more like white noise to her by then.

She got up and dusted herself off as he disappeared into the house to toss out her things, looking around idly and seeing her neighbors quickly surround the property to view first hand what would be this month's hot gossip. He came back out and tossed her suitcase at her, which she narrowly avoided. Furniture of hers was soon to be chucked out, her mother still following behind him, this time speaking to him, no doubt trying to tell him not to make such a scene. Natalie wasn't sure if her mother was more horrified about her child being struck or being scandalized in front of all their friends.

She looked back to her father just as he lobbed a photo frame right at her head. It made impacted and cut deep through her skin. She fell on her ass, but otherwise didn't feel anything besides the blood trickling down her face from her forehead. She winced at the idea of it needing stitches, but was soon distracted by someone coming in to play the caring neighbor.

She got up on her own, grabbing what she had already packed. It took her by surprise but she felt fine despite what was probably a decent concussion. She moved her steady gaze back to what used to be her home, seeing her mother in the window, watching her. Natalie waited, for what, she wasn't sure. Maybe some semblance of kindness, or compassion, anything. But she was only met with coldness as her mother's back was turned to her.

Natalie felt no anger or sadness, she knew for a long time they never loved her.

–

Today was inventory day, which meant she had to go see Trevor. She felt some semblance of excitement for seeing him that day, but kept it hidden from anyone around and even herself. The trip to hand him over the files would be short this time around, however. Trevor had been forced to stay in Sandy Shores for awhile with Michael and their kidnap victim while they waited for the judgment of one criminal mastermind, so trips to deliver were only a short walking distance away.

She made her way to Trevor's trailer, seeing Michael on the porch on the phone. He hung up just as she went up the steps, looking dissatisfied with his call. He turned to her, leaning back on the railing. He wasn't dressed as he normally was. He traded in the expensive suit for a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater that had seen better days.

She didn't know much about the man standing before her, but she could easily guess he had some big, nice house with a pricey car parked out front. She wondered if he made his fortune in criminal affairs or if shooting people up was almost as new to him as it was to her. The deep age lines around his eyes told her that he wasn't new to the game by any means, which made her wonder how Michael got to live in presumed splendor and Trevor was sitting right in the middle of meth country.

She waved to him, and he gave a half heart-ed 'hey' before his gaze when directly to the neckline of her tank top. She didn't find any offense in it, working at a bar full of men drunk and horny enough for anything got her used to that sort of attention. But she knew better than to think that he was purely perving out on her, instead catching a glimpse of a bra she would wear when she was expecting something great to happen later that evening. It was no coincidence that it was also decked out with lace.

His gaze when back to her face, raising an eyebrow and not even trying to contain the shit-eatting grin growing across his face. She rolled her eyes at him, but didn't try to defend herself, stepping past him and into the trailer. It wasn't hard to find Trevor, who was also doing a bit of day drinking by the table in the far corner of the trailer. The woman she had seen before but had yet to get a name off of was busying herself with cleaning the kitchen, which seemed to be an impossible task she was throwing herself into.

Trevor caught sight of her and gestured for her to come over, "Everything looking good?"

She nodded, stepping forward and handing him over the file, "Yeah, everything's good. Someone's buying our stuff pretty quick, we'll be running out of everything if this keeps up."

He nodded, only half listening as he went over the numbers laid out before him. She felt a coffee mug slip into her hand thanks to the older woman. The woman smiled at her softly before turning and going back to cleaning, "Oh, thanks, uh..."

"Patricia." Michael spoke up as he entered inside, "Her name's Patricia."

Natalie looked to him for a second, then to her, forcing a polite smile, "Nice to meet you, Patricia."

The older woman smiled at her, looking surprised to see any manner's come out of this house, "It's a pleasure." She spoke with a thick Spanish accent, her voice reminding her over overbearing teacher's from back in high school.

Natalie turned back to Trevor, who's focus was no longer on the file but instead Patricia. He looked at her with something that she recognized as a crush. Natalie found it somehow endearing to see Trevor with a look of attraction on his face that wasn't purely sexual, but at the same time it made her feel completely idiotic for coming over in the most subtly skimpy outfit she had.

She suddenly felt herself cross her arms over her chest to hide the bra she put on specifically for him. She cringed at the thought that she wore anything for anyone. She never cared much to put on anything special when it came to matters of sex. If she was particularly interested in someone, she might throw something special on every once and a while, but there wasn't anyone she had much of a romantic attraction to in years.

She looked at Trevor, did she have feelings for him? She did a check on her vitals, her heart rate was fine, palms dry, nothing that would show that her sexual desires for her boss advanced into anything she didn't want. But still, somehow, she felt the black, ugly feeling of jealousy filling her chest to the point where she could almost taste it.

She spoke up quickly in the hopes no one realized the struggle going on in her head, "So is that all?"

Trevor looked back to her and she could feel what could only be called her heart sinking. He saw her with none of the prior intensity and desire he had so many times before. He saw her as just another worker, like sex and beers hadn't been shared between them. Not that sex and beer meant anything, she had to remind herself, but still, there was no connection, like looking at a stranger, "Yeah, we're good."

She paused for a second longer than she would have liked, fighting with herself for something to say. But she didn't, she turned to left before she made herself feel like anymore of an idiot. As she made her way to the door she stole a glance at Michael who was leaning on the counter as Patricia cleaned around him, he had a looked on his face she identified as sympathy. She hated him for that look he gave her.

She went back to her trailer with a headache. Finding herself already unhooking her bra and chucking it in the trash. She had a feeling she'd retrieve it later, but for now she wanted nothing to do with it, wanting all her humiliation to disappear. She couldn't understand why she was behaving like this, like she was some jealous girlfriend starved of her significant other's attention. She wanted to hit something, to shoot something, anything to get the anger for herself and for Trevor out of her system. But as she sat there in her living room, wracking her brain for something to distract her, she came up with little that could help.

Her thoughts went to Rebecca, her best friend. Her trip to Vespucci Beach was coming up in a few days. And now she couldn't be happier to leave Sandy Shores for a few days and sort out the whole mess she brought entirely upon herself. Perhaps a few days with friend's and keeping away from Trevor for a little while was what she needed to sort herself out and get over her jealousy towards Patricia.

She couldn't understand why she felt such resentment to a woman she had just met, she was being held against her will in a place she didn't know surrounded by people who killed for a living and felt no regret. Natalie couldn't help but see that Patricia didn't seem entirely fearful in the short time they interacted, in fact seeming to look quiet at home picking up after her kidnappers' mess. Perhaps she was crazy.

The brunette pushed her intrusive thoughts away, not wanting to think about her feelings or her boss any longer. She got up and went to her bedroom, deciding the best way to ignore her embarrassing realizations was to throw herself into packing for her vacation.