I BOUGHT a TRASHED motorcycle to FLEE my ABUSIVE stepfather, only to BREAK DOWN with ZERO HOPE. CAN I ESCAPE?!
Part 1 Blood pounded in my ears as I clutched a crumpled forty-dollar bill. That meager scrap of paper was my only ticket out of hell. I was nineteen, desperate, and running from a monster. My stepfather, Richard, wasn’t just a violent drunk. He was a deputy sheriff in our desolate Mojave town, meaning there…
