-Chapter 3-

I push a cart through Wal-mart, looking in the junior section. We're all so skinny even though we're all 20 that we have to have things from here. I find some skimpy dresses that I know that Rico will appreciate and then I'm off to find his clothes. I look through some polos that I think he'll look nice in and then pick out a new pair of jeans. I remember that Mara needs some new sweats, so I rush back to the junior section, knowing that my hour's almost up. If I'm gone for more than 2 hours, Rico freaks out. My mind's still spinning from the after effects of the drugs and I get a rush of vertigo. Suddenly, a tall man appears in front of me and I bump into him. I fall over, my head hitting the tile with a 'crack'.

"Ouch. Dammit!" I yelp, wrenching myself back up off the ground. "Sorry sir." I start pushing my cart away.

"Wait, ma'am are you okay?" He calls, but I keep walking. He catches up to me and grabs my arm, gently, but firmly.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." I say.

"Got a gaggle of daughters?" He asks, gesturing to the amount of feminine products and girl clothes.

"You could say that." I say, glaring at him. He's acting nice, but I'm sure that before I know it, he'll be in my room, getting some just like tons of other men.

"Well, hey, sorry for knocking you over there. Does your head hurt?"

"No, thanks. I'm great." I say, looking up into his eyes for the first time. My heart seems to stop as I stare up into his blue eyes. They are so blue. I shake my head out, glancing down away from his eyes to his chest. Then I see it. On his coat, the police force emblem. My heart thuds and I gasp. Rico is going to kill me.

"Ma'am?" He asks, setting his hand on my shoulder.

"I gotta go…" I say, grabbing Mara's sweats and bolting for the check out lanes. He stands there, looking at me, but I ignore him, chatting with the cashier in a slightly stressed out tone. I see a candy bar and throw it onto the conveyor belt along with the clothes. There's my treat. Rico won't scold me for not getting myself anything like he did last time.

I take off for the house, looking behind me occasionally, checking to make sure I'm not being followed. The police officer's car pulls up next to me and I see his face. He's smiling.

"Want a ride?" He asks.

"So you can cart me off to jail? I think not. I haven't done anything wrong. I paid for all of this." I say, raising the bags of clothes and toiletries. He reaches out and pats my shoulder. I don't shudder at all. I'm used to men touching me.

"Just though I'd be chivalrous." He says, "Have a nice day."

"You too." I say. I'm tempted to flip him off as he drives away, but I don't because of 2 reasons.

1) He's probably come back and demand why I did that.

2) I'm carrying the bags and I can't set them down.

So, I keep walking toward the house and don't stop.