Janelle stormed out of the house that day in a rage. God help anybody who looked at her the wrong way! She was in the mood to kill. She really was. She had to get it out of her system—all that pent-up rage. So why not take it out on someone she believed deserved to bear the brunt of it?
She headed for Deanna's place, knowing Ramona was likely with her. Spencer would be at work, and her mother-in-law at daycare. Who better to vent her rage on? Yes, she would teach them never to bully, shame, and pick on people again or rat out a family member to the police.
After unleashing her fury on them and setting them straight, she would run home, pack a few things, and get the hell out. Whether they survived the attack or not, the police would be after her.
She walked the few blocks over to their street, and sure enough, Spencer's car was nowhere to be seen. But Deanna and Ramona's cars sure were.
She quickly headed around to the back, not needing additional witnesses to say they had spotted her approaching the house.
Fortunately, the mutt wasn't in the yard to alert the two women. Knowing they sometimes left the back door unlocked, Janelle crept up to it and tried the lock.
She was in luck.
The door swung open with a creak, and she stepped into the kitchen area. She could hear the drone of the TV coming from the living room that the whole damn family seemed addicted to and couldn't live without for five minutes. She crept through the dining room, and that was when the small pooch everyone called Luna came charging at her with a ferocious bark. Janelle immediately kicked the dog hard enough to knock it out.
“What the hell was that for?” she heard Ramona ask.
“I don't know,” Deanna said, curiosity dripping from her voice.
Janelle's only real challenge was herding both women into the kitchenette and trapping them between the counters and the wall before either one could make a run for the door.
First, Janelle grabbed Deanna when she stepped through the doorway to check out what had stirred up the dog. While holding Deanna firmly by the wrist as she screamed, Janelle grabbed Ramona just as she lunged for the front door.
She dragged the shouting women by their wrists and shirt collars and ordered them into the kitchen.
Right away, the women shouted threats of a return trip to jail and warnings of Spencer returning home any second to defend them.
Janelle wasn't afraid of either threat—not that she believed them anyway.
Huddled together on the floor against the wall, hands protectively covering their faces as they cried out in agony and whimpered in fear, Janelle beat the two of them mercilessly, listing off every reason she hated their guts. She screamed loud enough to make sure she was heard over their shouts and screams. Then she stopped and laughed maniacally.
When the two of them looked at her as if to say she was absolutely insane, she said, “Why not? Why not laugh? You two sure did it to me when I suffered some kind of physical or emotional pain.”
“Yeah, it's not so funny anymore when the pain is on you, is it? When someone's taunting you and making fun of your fat rolls.”
“Y-you’re just as crazy as everyone always said you were,” Ramona sputtered breathlessly through bloodied lips. “You did attack Stephanie. I know you did.”
Ignoring her, Janelle raged on, kicking and screaming. The two women were just about to lose consciousness when, all of a sudden, Janelle could hear a key being inserted into the front door, even over all the shouts and cries. She went silent mid-sentence, and in a split second, she turned and bolted out the back door.
She ran nearly all the way home, ignoring all the curious stares as to how the hell someone so big could run so fast. Once home, she threw some clothes and toiletries along with her medications into a couple of duffel bags and headed for the bus stop bound for Henri’s place.
Janelle was in luck. Henrietta was down on her own luck too, and they were both itching to run. Henrietta wasn't in any trouble or anything like that. She was just tired of Santa Fe and wanted a change. Janelle knew she would never work things out with her husband and was ready to throw in the towel. Yes, a change was in order. So if she was going to get a new life, she might as well do it in a new town. The two agreed to head east toward Texas, where Henrietta had some friends they could stay with until they found work.
“But what about your probation?” Henrietta asked.
“I don't give a shit about that anymore. All this state has done is rake me over the legal coals, and I've had enough of it. Probation can go fuck itself, right along with my obsessive PO.”
And so it was that Henrietta, none the wiser—a state Janelle preferred to keep her in so she could easily take advantage of the younger woman—agreed to take Janelle for the ride just over the New Mexican border. If it weren’t for her easygoing and accepting nature, Henri might have been too creeped out to be alone in the company of Janelle Stone.
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