Raped waitress

CHAPTER THREE

Linda and Max dressed quickly, giving one another sheepish, longing glances as they slipped on their clothes and looked nervously at the clock. Linda felt strangely modest in front of Max now. He'd fucked the living daylights out of her and would probably repeat the act in a few hours. Still, she felt compelled to play the coy act.

Just as she finished buttoning up her uniform, they heard the sounds of three trucks pulling off the main highway and heading for the parking lot behind the diner.

"Here comes the animal act," Linda said, grimacing as she walked to the end of the counter and peered through the window.

"Hey, babe, if you hate it so much, why did you start workin' in a joint like this?" Max asked, walking up behind her and tenderly caressing her full buns.

"I didn't know where to go, Max. Jack didn't have any life insurance. We'd just moved up here from L.A. He was going to start his own trucking business. He made all these investments that didn't come to anything. Then that stupid drinking of his!" Linda said, making a face as she slowly turned from the window and looked at the beg man. "We lost everything, including any love and respect we had for one another. He took on occasional jobs hauling long mileage jobs. I think he took them to get away from me and Judy. He couldn't stand the idea that he'd dragged us up here and then lost all the money we ever had. It wasn't much of a marriage in the last couple of months."

"So you came here?" Max said, smiling gently as he reached up and lightly chucked her under the chin.

"Where else could I go? I didn't have any money. I had plenty of bills," Linda said, smiling as she glanced at the doorway. "We'd better stop. Those clowns see us like this and we'll never hear the end of it."

"Just keep your cool. Remember, whatever these guys are like, they're our bread and butter," Max said, winking slyly at her as he backed away into the kitchen.

Linda straightened the counter set-ups as five truckers barged into the brightly-lit diner, laughing and talking loudly.

"Hey, baby, some of that slop you call coffee," the first trucker bellowed as they sauntered toward the booth closest to the door.

"Coming up," Linda said mechanically as she reached over and picked up the pot off the warmer.

"And give us a llttle more friendly service than you gave Chris," a tall, husky blond driver said as Linda walked around the counter.

Linda flushed red as she poured out five cups of coffee at the booth. She felt their eyes stapled on her boobs. It was the same look she'd seen in so many truckers. But after that wonderful fucking she'd received from Max just a few minutes ago, those looks seemed filthier than before.

"Just treat me right boys, and I'll treat you right," she flashed out as she turned and headed back toward the counter.

"Ohhh!" they all cat called, joking and laughing as Linda put the coffee back on the warmer and started to fill salt shakers on the counter. Gradually, the men seemed to forget her and started talking quietly among themselves. Linda wasn't particularly interested in their conversation. Still, it was unusual for them to be so quiet. Most of the times they cut up in the diner as if it were a cheap whorehouse. But tonight they were acting somewhat secretive, she thought.

"Anything to eat, boys?" Linda called out from behind the counter.

"Yeah, burgers for everybody. Plenty of onions on all of 'em," the big blond driver shouted impatiently, obviously angered by that sudden interruption.

Linda shrugged her shoulders, then wrote down the order on her pad and pushed it over the order window ledge.

"They're acting weirder than usual tonight," Linda commented to Max as he took the order slip from her.

"How so?" he asked, peering over the ledge at the tiny group of truckers in the corner.

"I don't know. Can't pin it down. But I'll bet there's something up," Linda said, her curiosity aroused to a fever pitch. God only knows, there wasn't much interesting happening in Gilroy at any time of day. So when something a little off-center occurred, Linda's attention was completely captured.

"Well, keep out of it, whatever it is. These guys aren't the best people to fool around with," Max warned, flashing a final look at the men before he closed the panel of the window and started working up the order.

Linda went back to her busy work, straining to pick up the hushed conversation. Gradually, she realized that the big blond driver was the leader of that group. He was obviously in charge of the conversation, and seemed to be telling the rest of them something.

"Chris wants it that way," he heard him say once. Then they sensed that they'd been talking too loudly. All of them looked up at Linda. Fortunately, she'd been quick enough to sense that something like this was going to happen. She kept her head down and busily wiped the counter top, occasionally filling those chipped, old salt shakers and pretending not to notice the men, but trying to catch every mumble they uttered.

Satisfied that Linda didn't know or care what was going on, they went back to their conversation.

They'll never open up with me here, Linda thought. With some commotion, the blonde turned around and walked through the swinging door into the kitchen. As it closed, Linda turned around and peered through the tiny rectangular window carved at the top of the door. The drivers had noticed that she left and were visibly relieved at her absence.

"What are you doing in here?" Max asked, turning from the sizzling grill.

"Never mind," Linda said, putting her forefinger up to her lips and crouching down on the floor.

"Wha…" Max started to ask as Linda slowly opened the door and crawled back out behind the counter. She kept her head and back down, edging toward the end of the counter closest to the occupied booth. They were all talking louder now, satisfied that no one could overhear them.

"So what about the load tonight, Jack," the tall blond driver asked a short, pot-bellied black-haired man.

"I've got the stuff hidden in the center of the load," he said softly, looking around the empty diner nervously. "Listen, Bill, I don't like this whole idea. Chris can get the whole bunch of us in trouble with this kind of game."

"You want to live like you been livin', driving that fuckin' truck night and day while your family wonders what the fuck you're doin'?" Bill said angrily.

"No. But this…"

"Look, you're in or out. That's it. You've got to make up your mind," Bill hissed between his teeth.

"You think I don't know that you'd figure out some way to get rid of me if I backed out?" Jack said, nervously fingering the edges of the white coffee cup as he lowered his eyes and stared at the tabletop.

"Hey, man," Bill said, looking at the three other driven who obviously shared Jack's concern. He reached over and gently squeezed the other driver's shoulder. "Don't talk like that. There's no problem. You want out, you get out."

Jack let out a low chuckle and shook his head slowly back and forth.

"I'm in too deep now. If I'd known you were smuggling heroin into the country, I don't think I'd ever gotten into this thing. But I'm in now, and don't plan on gettin' out," the driver said resignedly.

Heroin! Linda thought, raising her hand up to her throat. She'd stumbled onto something more serious than she'd thought possible.

"How about the rest of you?" Bill said, looking around at the other drivers. They all grunted in agreement. Then, smiling at Jack, Bill let go of his shoulder and leaned back against the counter seat. "Okay. Now that that's settled, we've got to figure out a way to get this stuff past the checkpoints. Any ideas?"

As the five men tossed suggestions back and forth on how they could slip their loads of drugs past the checkpoint, Linda racked her brains. What should she do? Getting back to the kitchen was the first step.

Linda sucked in a deep breath. As she turned to crawl back into the kitchen, her hand accidentally bumped against a catsup bottle on the edge of a shelf under the counter. It crashed to the floor, sounding like a bomb going off in the otherwise quiet room.

"What was that?" Bill cried out, signaling for the others to be quiet.

"Somebody's back there!" Jack cried out nervously.

"Get out of my way," Bill hissed as he crawled over the truckers and sprinted across the empty diner. Linda cringed as she looked up and saw the husky driver peering down at her.

"I didn't hear anything. Honest," she wailed unconvincingly.

"Sure you didn't," Bill said. "We've got to take care of her and the cook," the driver said as he turned around to the now-standing group.

"Hey, I didn't bargain for this," Jack protested. "None of us did. But we knew what we were gettin' into. She's heard too much," Bill said, reaching down and grabbing Linda tightly by both arms.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, twisting helplessly in Bill's tight grip. Jack froze. But the other drivers shot into action. As Bill dragged Linda down the far end of the counter, the three truckers leaped over the top and confronted Max just as he ran out of the kitchen. He'd heard her screams and came out to see what was happening.

"Hey, what do you think you're doin'?" he asked as he saw Bill holding Linda tightly against him. The big blond trucker's fingers wrapped tightly around her slender wrists, pinning her arms behind her back as Linda struggled to break free.

"Too late for explanations, pal," Bill said as the three big truckers pushed Max hard against the back wall. Linda watched in horrified helplessness as the men started working Max over brutally. The thudding, soft sounds of their fists crunching into the dazed man's chest and belly resounded through the diner sickeningly. It took some time. But soon Max roused himself and started to fight back. He grabbed one of the truckers by the shoulders and pitched him over the countertop. The yelling man crashed down hard onto a table, sending the surrounding chairs scattering noisily as the table collapsed under the trucker's weight.

Linda felt a spark of hope kindle in her heart as she watched Max. She started to think that they might free themselves. Then suddenly she felt Bill's right hand let her go for a second. There was some fumbling behind her. Then there was a flash of blinding light and a loud, deafening roar. Linda finally realized a gun had gone off.

"Max!" she screamed loudly as she saw the cook jerk back against the wall, knocking a row of hanging frying pans clattering to the floor. "Max!" she shrieked again as he sank to the floor.

Bill shaved his gun into his pants. Linda screamed once more, then raised her leg and kicked back hard.

"Fuckin' bitch!" he growled, still holding her tightly.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Jack said nervously.

"Let's take the bitch along with us," Bill said.

"What are you going to do with me?" Linda asked as the big blond trucker pulled her out of the restaurant and hauled her into the darkened parking lot.

"Don't rightly know now. But I'll bet that Chris is gonna be mighty happy with you like this now. He's got his fingers in a lot of pies. You know, he's even got a little hooker ring goin' 'round here," Bill said, stopping to press his groin against her firm butt. Linda's stomach churned sickeningly as she realized what he was doing. He had just shot Max and now he was thinking about fucking her. She could feel his hard groin pressing against her butt. With every sideways motion he made, her short dress worked higher and higher. Soon her ass was completely exposed.

"You animal! You fuckin' filthy pig," Linda hissed out between her teeth as she struggled violently in Bill's tight grip.

"I like a bitch who fights. Baby, I'm gonna make you kiss dirt and shit before I'm through with you," Bill grunted as he dragged her back toward his rig.

Linda fought him every inch of the way, clawing at his leathery skin with her fingernails when she could, kicking back with her feet when possible. But the big man held her tightly and firmly, dragging her across the loose gravel when she wouldn't walk.

"Okay, babe, up you go," Bill said, letting go of her with his right hand as he reached up and unfastened the big doors of the trailer behind his truck. Linda jerked away suddenly, breaking free of the big man.

"Hey," he cried out.

Linda almost fell on her face. She barely managed to regain her balance, staggering forward and running as fast she could in the loose gravel. Her shoes had come off in the fight in the diner. The sharp stones dug painfully into the soles of her feet as she fled away from the pursuing, shouting driver. Everything spun in front of her as she headed for the forest behind the diner. It was the only place where she had a chance of escape.

"I'll get you," Bill said threateningly as he closed the distance between them.

Linda looked back fearfully, seeing that he was only a few feet behind her. The trees were almost around her. If only she could get to them…

"Gotcha!" Bill cried out, wrapping his fingers around her hair.

"Ohhhhh!" Linda cried out in pain as he yanked back and sent her stumbling to the around. The gravel tore into her skin, ripping and shredding her nylons as Bill dragged her back to the truck.

"Iiiahhhhh!" Linda cried out as she saw the big rig again.

"I'm tired of this, bitch!" Bill said, letting go of her quickly. Before she realized what happened, Linda felt something hard whack across her face. Everything spun wildly around in her head as she lost consciousness.

Linda didn't know how long she'd been unconscious when she opened her eyes again. It was dark and cold wherever she was. The damp air made her shudder and curl her legs up under her ass-cheeks. Linda was afraid to move for several seconds, shifting only her eyes from one end of the tiny room to the other. In the bright moonlight, it appeared as if she were in some kind of jail cell. Suddenly, she heard a cry of agony from somewhere in the distance.

"Shut up, slut!" a harsh, low voice growled out followed by muffled cursing. Linda felt her skin crawl with horror as the cries of pain turned into sobs. Slowly she pushed up with her legs and stood up.

Her head was still a little dizzy from that blow Bill had given her. She staggered forward a few steps, reaching out with her right hand as she pressed its palm against the cold, damp stone of the wall in front of her.

Looking out into the clear night, Linda could see all the bright stars shining peacefully in the sky. Everything looked so calm and pleasant. Yet a man had been brutally murdered and she had been kidnapped and beaten, and for what purpose? Linda leaned heavily against the wall and sighed with unspeakable sadness. She'd wanted excitement. Well, now she had it and would probably die with it.

Judy! She suddenly thought. Who would take care of her daughter? A feeling of helpless panic crept over her as she pulled her ripped uniform tightly around her body to keep out as much of the damp chill as possible. Would the girl ever know what happened to her mother? What would she think when they found her body buried in some shallow roadside ditch? There was no relative left for the girl to go to. Linda closed her eyes and fought back the tears that welled up in her eyes. Her daughter would be forced into an orphanage! And God, for what? For what?

Linda's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sounds of footsteps coming up to the door. The cell door opened slowly as Linda turned around to face whoever it was walking in. The bright moonlight soon revealed that it was Chris Orozco.

"Enjoying your stay here?" Chris asked, nodding to someone behind him who closed the door again.

"What?" Linda asked.

"Being a trucker lets me into a lot of things," Chris said evilly as he sauntered up to Linda. She stepped back against the wall. "Let's just call this one of my training centers," Chris added, raising his hand up to her cheek and rubbing it tenderly. Suddenly an expression of extreme cruelty and hatred ripped over his face. His mouth twisted into a thin slash. He slapped her hard across the face, sending Linda crashing down to the dirt floor of her cell.

"You'll learn what submission's all about now, bitch," Chris said threateningly as he towered over the blonde.