Truck Stop Titan

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Truck Stop Titan Page 11

by Daniels, Krissy

He looked down at my offending hand.

  “You want Mim to see you like this?”

  Swear to the good Lord above, his mountain of muscles caved under my palm. He shot another glance at Tango, then shook his head, shrugged away from my touch, and stormed out of the room.

  Tango raked his fingers through his thick hair. “Wanna tell me what that was—”

  “Nope. No. None of your business.”

  “None of my business?” He pointed down the empty hallway. “He damn near ripped my head off.”

  True. “Wanna tell me why there’s so much tension between the two of you?”

  “No.”

  “Then we’re done talking.”

  “Moriah. Listen.” He scratched the back of his head. His glare dropping to the floor, then bouncing back to me. “Dane is, uh…well, he’s um…”

  I threw up a hand to stop his rant. “Doesn’t matter. Does. Not. Matter. I’m leaving tomorrow. Dane and I will never see each other again. So, that’s that.”

  “Okay. Yeah. Well.” Holding the trash bag high, he announced, “I’m gonna dump this. Meet you outside?”

  “Sure.”

  # # #

  Mind reeling after Dane’s my girl comment, I stomped up the stairs two by two. When I reached the top, a wrecking ball hit my gut, the hallway spun, and all air was forced from my lungs. Faster than I could protest, Dane shoved through the door to my room, kicked it shut behind him, turned to engage the lock, then tossed me on the bed.

  He crawled over me, his knees bracing my thighs, his face hovering inches from mine. “You were crying. Why?”

  That was the last thing I’d expected to hear, and instead of explaining, I mumbled, “What?”

  “You were crying. What happened? Do I need to kill that pretty boy motherfucker? Did he say something to upset you?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He dropped a hard kiss on my nose, then pinned me with a cold, hard, assessing stare. “But he touched you.”

  I rolled my eyes. What else could I do? Everything about the past ten minutes had been beyond ridiculous. “What’s the deal with you two?”

  He dipped lower, dropping his nose into my hair, and inhaled. “You smell like him now.”

  “Are you insane?”

  Dane straightened, leaning back on his heels, my legs still pinned beneath him. “You fucked me last night.” He shoved a finger into his own chest. “We shared a bed. How the fuck would I be okay with you smelling like another man?”

  Heat blazed in my cheeks. Other places, too, which only added to my befuddlement. “I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

  He tugged the hem of my sundress up until my belly was exposed, then laid his hand over my skin, searing me like a cattle brand. “I’m gonna touch you. Rub on you. Fuck you until you smell like me again.”

  Sweet mother of mercy why did that turn me on?

  “The kids are right next door.”

  He slid his hand lower, then gripped my panties. “Then you better be quiet.”

  He shifted, rising on his knees, tugged a condom out of his back pocket and held it between his teeth, then yanked my undies to my thighs, grabbed my hips, and flipped me to my stomach.

  I tried to scramble away, steal a second to find my bearings. Dane grabbed my hips again, lifting in one hard jerk, forcing me to my knees, my ass in the air, my face smashed into the bedding.

  “Another man had his hands on you.” The mattress shifted. A sharp sting bit my ass. A hard, swollen cock slid between my wet folds, the stretch so divine I trembled.

  My whole body came alive, my skin tightening and tingling, my belly swirling with delicious warmth, my heart and head warring over you shouldn’t let him use you this way, and oh God, this man can use me forever.

  “My ass. My tits.” He pounded into me, grunting a new proclamation with each thrust. “My pussy. My fuckin’ girl. Nobody touches my girl.”

  Face buried in soft cotton, I couldn’t respond. Not that he would’ve heard a thing I said. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve said, because, holy effin’ shit the man was relentless and aggressive and touching me everywhere with hands and lips. I loved every volatile, confusing second of his reclamation, or whatever the hell he thought he was doing.

  The man was strong, and thorough. He could break me if he were so inclined, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t cause any physical damage. He was fierce, but confusing in the way he took me, cherishing my body with light touches, yet holding me captive with possessive grips.

  His grunts were heady. His words, filthy. The rhythmic slap of his hips against my ass and his balls against my clit a raw, beautiful anthem to our short story. I came fast and hard, and when my insides tightened around him, he gripped my hair and pulled me upright, holding me tight with one arm cinched around my waist, the other my chest. He bit my earlobe and then grunted, “What are you doing to me? What the fuck are you doing to me?” while he pumped, hard and fast and desperate, the bed scraping across the floor.

  He came, grunting into my hair, his arms coiling tighter, his body taut and tense and vibrating.

  We fell side by side on the bed, heavy breaths and disheveled clothing. A warm breeze caressed my exposed skin, and I shimmied, pulling my panties back into place, tugging my skirt over my bare ass.

  “What was that about?” I rolled my head to find sad eyes roaming the length of me. “Not that I’m complaining. But seriously? What the eff?”

  Dane flipped to his back, throwing one arm over his head, while the other lay over his stomach, inches from his still semi-hard cock. “I hate that fucker.”

  “Yeah, you made that obvious.” My first instinct was to reach out, touch him, offer comfort, be the woman to soothe his wounded ego. But I had to stop being that woman. “Doesn’t explain what you just did to me, though.”

  He huffed. “Not hard to figure out, gorgeous.” He rolled into the sitting position, then made his way to the bathroom, already removing the condom. “I like you. He touched you.”

  “Dane.”

  Silence.

  Through the crack in the half open door, I caught sight of a broken man. Posture load-bearing, face a mess and hardened with disgust while he studied his reflection.

  There was so much I didn’t know about Dane.

  A man who clearly carried his own unbearable burdens.

  Ugh. What the hell was I doing? I hopped off the bed, wiggled out of my dress and rifled through my suitcase until I found my favorite cutoffs. Mid scramble to get them over my hips, Dane cleared his throat.

  “Only three things in this world I’ve ever cared about,” he mumbled, drawing my attention from my button to the bathroom door, where a thousand pounds of brutal male filled the space. “He’s taken all of them from me.”

  That face, all beat to hell, only made him more attractive. What did that say about me?

  “That explains nothing.” I rifled through my choice of shirts, happy when I found my well-worn Miranda Lambert concert tee, because right about then, I needed some girl power vibes.

  I refused to look at him, all brooding and sexy, with his husky voice and I dare you to fuck with me glare.

  Until he said, “He’s not getting you, too.”

  “Getting me?” I snapped, my nerves on fire. “I’m nobody’s to get.”

  I gave him a minute to counter. When he didn’t, I shoved my feet into my Vans.

  “Listen. I get it. You don’t wanna talk. That’s fine.” I gestured between the two of us. “This was fun. But it was temporary. Thanks for the orgasms.” I paused, waiting for a response, hoping for a reaction, anything to keep me in the game, in his presence for a while longer.

  Dane merely dropped his head.

  His silence spoke volumes.

  # # #

  The door was maybe three steps away, but the journey seemed impossible, and I wanted a rewind button. I wanted to go back to being naked with those strong arms around me, and that thick, commanding voice grunting dirty
words while he made me feel alive and beautiful and wanted.

  The door knob was just out of reach when his gruff voice blew across my neck. “Why were you crying?”

  Eyes pinched shut to hold the tears at bay, I sucked in a dose of oxygen, and turned, leaning back against the wood. I met his weary gaze.

  “Mim let me touch her today. She leaned on me. She almost hugged me. It was perfect, and I had a little emotional meltdown. Then I threw up, and Tango cleaned my mess, and I started thinking about how Matthew never cleaned a puke mess or took care of me when I was sick. And I realized how nice everyone has been to me, and how much I’m going to miss everyone, and well, I had another meltdown.”

  Dane stared at something over my head, eyes unfocused. His chest rose and fell, his muscles bunching, rolling, almost as if building courage. After holding one deep breath for excruciating seconds, he blurted, “You don’t have to leave, you know.”

  I did. I had to leave. But the words wouldn’t solidify.

  He braced a hand on the door above my head. Then dipped, catching my gaze. “You could stay here.”

  “My life is back home. My friends…” I wanted to say family, or job, but neither of those were true anymore. Back home, I had my favorite coffee shop. I adored my doctor, and Frank and Julissa from the bank. My neighbors were great. Sure, I had friends, but soon after Mom got sick, I had lost touch with most of them. Between work, Mom, and Matthew, there hadn’t been time to maintain any meaningful relationships.

  But still. Shelbyville was home. Familiar. Comfortable. A great town to raise a child.

  Dane tucked a finger under my chin, drawing my attention from his massive chest back to his bruised face. “If you had a job here, would you stay?”

  “No,” came out breathy and spineless. I placed a hand on his stomach, the connection grounding me. “And why are you asking me to stay? You’ve said yourself that you’re leaving the first chance you get.” I gave him a wide-open door. Say something. I needed him to tell me he wanted me to stay because he wanted me. Because he felt the same crazy connection as I did. Because he was as attached to Mim as I was. Because he would miss us.

  Instead, the hulking man dropped his arms. Stepped away. Scratched his chin. Grunted, “You’re right.”

  An unbearable ache welled in my chest, spreading through my limbs. “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” I turned to leave, then turned back. “Will we see you tonight?”

  “Not sure,” he mumbled, roughing a hand through his hair.

  I lingered too long before finding the courage to leave.

  I had one foot over the threshold when “Moriah,” came over my shoulder.

  “Yeah?” I whispered.

  “Turn around.”

  I did.

  Dane kissed me. A kiss I felt from the tingles on my scalp to the curling of my toes.

  He stepped back, holding me captive with a glare searing enough to leave a permanent scar. “Have fun today.”

  “See you tonight?” And then I added, “Please?” And then, so I didn’t sound too pathetic, I threw in, “Mim needs to say goodbye. She needs that closure.” And for the final hook, “She’s going to miss you.”

  Dane turned his face away from me, gaze aimed out the window. The hard lines of his jaw worked, his muscles flexing. “Yeah. See you tonight,” he said, so strained, so quiet, my chest constricted.

  The door closed with a quiet click that jolted every nerve ending, and the sting of that goodbye swelled into a sticky ache that would torture me for eternity.

  I met everyone downstairs. We had a great boat ride, the sky blue, the sun hot, the company fun and carefree, and I painted on a smile that lasted the whole day.

  # # #

  I pressed my ear against the wall. Dane spoke to Mim, his words mostly a vibration through the barrier between us. He talked. They laughed. I cried. More talking. A few giggles. For two hours I sat on the floor, head to the wall, lulled by the tender, deep timber of his voice. My heart ached for Mim, because that was their goodbye. Their private farewell. She would always remember Dane. He would always be the hero in her eyes. The man she’d measure every other man in her life against.

  The room went quiet, and my heart thump, thump, thumped in anticipation. Our goodbye would be next. Our goodbye would be painful, and bittersweet, because I too, in a sense, was ruined for any other man. Nobody would ever hold a candle to the man who made my pulse race. My skin tingle. My soul expand.

  I waited on the floor until footsteps moved across the room, down the hall, and stopped outside my door.

  I waited for the knock.

  The floor squeaked. Heavy breathing.

  Soft shuffles.

  More footsteps. Retreating.

  I sat on the floor another ten minutes before hauling myself into bed, where I cried myself to sleep.

  At 6:00 AM, the alarm beeped. I packed my suitcase, cleaned my borrowed room, then tiptoed into Mim’s room to pack her few belongings as well. She’d awoken by the time I’d slid the last puzzle box onto the shelf in the tiny closet.

  “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered, sliding next to her. “Are you ready to start our new adventure?”

  Goop-filled eyes blinked at me, filling my heart with trepidation. We lay face to face, and I hated the distance between us. “Are you scared, Mim?”

  She reached up, touched my hair, then my eyebrows, then my nose. Then she wrestled her body out of the bedding. Slid to the floor and ran into the bathroom. When she came out, she ran back to the bed, hopped up next to me, and handed me her hairbrush. Then that little girl turned her back to me and waited for me to brush her hair.

  She wasn’t scared. She was ready.

  The entire Slade family waited downstairs for us, gathered around the breakfast table. Tango, Rocky, and Slade were there, as well as Tito and his wife, Tuuli. Lettie held Lucia. Tucker and Aida stood at the stove. James poured a cup of coffee.

  After breakfast, Tito took me aside and handed me a large, stuffed envelope. “Everything you need is in here.”

  I looked inside and thumbed through the paperwork. The lies I would protect until my dying day.

  “Birth records. Social Security number. Adoption records. Medical history.”

  All of it fake. Every scroll of the ink meant to protect my niece.

  “If you need anything…anything at all, I’ve got you. Don’t ever hesitate to call.”

  “You’ve done so much already.”

  “That’s what I do. That’s what we do here. Got me?”

  “Thank you doesn’t seem adequate.”

  “Knowing she’s going to grow up right is all the thanks we need.”

  “Well,” Lettie started as she came around the corner. “Are we ready?”

  I pulled Tito into a tight embrace. Kissed his cheek, then made my way around the room, saying my goodbyes.

  Mim and Rocky slid into the back seat of Lettie’s truck. We rolled away from the property. I searched for Dane, then tucked that pain away while we headed for the airport, doing my damnedest to ignore my broken heart.

  Dane

  “You hiding in here?” A booted foot tapped my ankle.

  Had it been any other voice interrupting my quietude, as I lay on the cool floor under the old beater, I’d have let the profanities loose. Instead, I grunted, “Nah. Just working.”

  A loud exhale. “S’pose you’re fixing to leave soon, too.”

  “Soon as we’re finished with this engine.”

  James squatted. I couldn’t see his face from my position under the truck, but I felt his glare, sensed his hesitation before he said, “Listen. Dane. It’s none of my business, but I reckon a guy like you hasn’t had much in the way of stability.”

  “You’re right. None of your business.”

  He huffed. “You’ve got something stable here, if you want it.”

  “Don’t need charity, Mr. Slade. I was here for the girl.” Girls. God damn those girls.

  “And
Rocky? What about him? Doesn’t go unnoticed the way you track his every move.”

  Fucker had to go there. “He’s an interesting kid.”

  “He’s your only living relative. You okay leaving him behind?”

  What the hell was the old geezer’s problem? “He doesn’t know who I am, and it has to stay that way.”

  “You saved his life.”

  “I killed his mother.”

  “You didn’t kill her.”

  “I didn’t stop them.”

  “But you would’ve, given the choice.” There was no question in his statement, only certainty.

  “You don’t know that.” I dropped the nut splitter and growled, “You don’t know shit about me.”

  “You saved Rocky. Saved my daughter on more than one occasion. Rescued Mim. I know enough.”

  “What is it with you people?” I scooted out from under the Ford, and, still on my back, pointed a finger in the man’s face. “I’ve put to ground more than a few deserving pricks in my life. I have a criminal record longer than the interstate. Yet, every one of you looks at me like I’m a God damned fallen hero who needs saving.”

  James face reddened. His lips pinched tight.

  I rolled to my knees and then pushed to stand. “Wanna know a secret?”

  He didn’t answer, but stumbled to his feet as well, leaning against the truck bed with one arm. “Everything that happened with Rocky? Yeah. That was me. The night Tango fucked my cousin and made that perfect little boy? That was my doing. I hated that fucking, pretty boy, entitled asshole and I wanted your daughter. So, I gave Addy the drugs she slipped into Tango’s drinks that night. He never would’ve cheated on Slade without them. I encouraged Addy to do what she did. I made sure Slade found them fucking in his daddy’s Mercedes.”

  Fucking hell, I’d never said those words out loud.

  The purge continued. “I watched Slade run away. I followed, watched her crumple in the street—crying, broken, bleeding. And I waited. I waited until she was hollow, and wouldn’t turn me away, and then I picked her up and made her all better. Pretty fucking heroic, yeah?”

  “Dane,” James grunted, slapping a hand to his chest.

 

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