Long Drive

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Long Drive Page 1

by Jessica Florence




  Jessica Florence

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events, and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of those terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Jessica Florence© 2017

  Editing by Librum Artis Editorial Services

  Proofreading by Judy’s Proofreading

  Cover by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations©

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  To those of you who have ever wanted to just pack a bag and drive, letting the road take you wherever you’re meant to go. | <3

  Chapter One | Livia

  Chapter Two | Killian

  Chapter Three | Livia

  Chapter Four | Livia

  Chapter Five | Killian

  Chapter Six | Livia

  Chapter Seven | Killian

  Chapter Eight | Livia

  Chapter Nine | Killian

  Chapter Ten | Livia

  Chapter Eleven | Livia

  Chapter Twelve | Killian

  Chapter Thirteen | Livia

  Chapter Fourteen | Killian

  Chapter Fifteen | Livia

  Chapter Sixteen | Livia

  Chapter Seventeen | Killian

  Chapter Eighteen | Livia

  Chapter Nineteen | Livia

  Chapter Twenty | Killian

  Chapter Twenty-One | Livia

  Chapter Twenty-Two | Killian

  Chapter Twenty-Three | Livia

  Chapter Twenty-Four | Livia

  Chapter Twenty-Five | Killian

  Chapter Twenty-Six | Livia

  Chapter Twenty-Seven | Livia

  Chapter Twenty-Eight | Killian

  Chapter Twenty-Nine | Livia

  Chapter Thirty | Killian

  Chapter Thirty-One | Livia

  Chapter Thirty -Two | Livia

  Chapter Thirty-Three | Killian

  Epilogue

  The End ☀ | Your Favorite Movie Star Joel Kline gets his story! | 2017

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  More Books by Jessica Florence

  The Final Chase

  Guiding Lights

  Blinding Lights

  Weighing of the Heart

  To those of you who have ever wanted to just pack a bag and drive, letting the road take you wherever you’re meant to go.

  <3

  Chapter One

  Livia

  “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars to let me ride around with you for a month.” The man with the hood over his head froze while drinking his coffee, and turned slowly to look at me.

  Holy hell, he was more attractive than I thought. He had blue eyes mixed with gray, kind of like the ocean after a storm. Murky, but calm. It was my favorite time to sit by the water, as it smoothed out to look like glass. Well, used to be my favorite time.

  “I think you have the wrong guy.” His voice was deep, and matched the after-storm effect of his eyes. He pushed his medium-length golden blond hair away from his eyes, which was a failed attempt, since it went right back to where it was.

  “The other drivers said you were the only one that is driving out of state. I need to get out of Florida.” His eyebrows drew in together, and looked at the group of men sitting at a table. They were the ones I’d talked to. Some people would think I was crazy, and right now I was probably a little loony, but who was I trying to impress? No one. Not even this attractive truck driver. His eyes took me in and then got stuck on my eyes. Yeah, I know, freak show eyes. I was always picked on as a kid for having different color eyes. My right one was blue, and my left one was light green with brown splashed in it. I’ve heard all the jokes before. His eyes held mine briefly before answering.

  “No.” He turned to finish drinking his coffee. No? NO? That just wasn’t going to work for me. My car had just broken down, and it would be a few more days before it was fixed. I didn’t want to wait. I needed to get out and do something. My life was in ruins, and I couldn’t stay still. I needed to be on the road. What better way to do that, than with someone who was on the road all the time?

  “Fifteen thousand. I’ll give you half now, and at the end of the month I’ll give you the other half. As long as I’m not lying in a ditch somewhere. So no killing or raping me,” I somewhat joked with him. I really didn’t need any more horrible experiences. I’d gone through enough in the past couple months to last me for a while. He turned back towards me and just stared at my face, trying to figure me out.

  “I know this all seems crazy, but I just need to get away. I feel like this is what I need. I swear I’m not a loon. Please don’t say no,” I begged, hoping my pure desperation would come through, and he would say yes to my outlandish proposal. His head turned slightly to the side, and that long piece of hair blocked part of his right eye, blocking me from seeing any emotion that it held. Unsure if he believed me or not, he simply turned back towards his coffee. Then he huffed.

  “Sure.”

  That was a yes! Holy shit, this plan worked! I was going on a month-long road trip with a strange, attractive, trucker! This was exactly what I needed.

  “Great! I’ll go grab my small suitcase and get rid of my car real quick. I’ll be right back.” I turned and walked away quickly before he could change his mind. As soon as I opened the door, the Florida air hit me. It was nice out, being January, but I was ready for a change. The little mechanic’s shop was attached to the truck stop I was just inside, which was convenient.

  “Hello!” I called out to the mechanic that was working on my car.

  “Hey! I just got off the phone; your transmission will be here in two days.” He smiled at me while wiping a big glob of grease on his forehead in an attempt to wipe the sweat off his face. I shook my head.

  “That’s okay. I actually have a different plan of action now. Wanna buy my car?” The guy just laughed and went to work back on my car. What was with people not believing me today?

  “I’m serious. I don’t want it anymore.” I walked over to him and stood close. Crossing my arms across my chest.

  “Uh, this is a really nice car. Don’t think you want to just get rid of it.” This was starting to get frustrating.

  “I know. I’m just moving on with my life, and this was the car my ex-fiancé gave me as a Christmas gift. I don’t even really like it. Not my style.” And that was the truth. I didn’t care for flashy or expensive cars. When Lane surprised me with this new BMW SUV, I faked enthusiasm as best as I could. And sadly, he thought it was real. I was raised in the country; my dad had a beat-up old truck, and Mom drove a Jeep. I figured he had known I wouldn’t have cared for it, but he got it for me anyways.

  “Oh, Uh. What do you want for it?” He rubbed more grease on his head. I felt compelled to tell him he was doing that, and opened my mouth right when a little kid ran through the garage.

  “Daddy!” The kid was probably around five. He looked like his dad, with curly brown hair, and tan skin. He even had a little grease on his hands, as if he was trying to be like his dad. The mechanic, whose coverall said Joe, picked up the kid for a hug then set him back down.

  My chest began to ache, seeing them together. You could tell they really loved each other. I felt the stinging of tears threaten my eyes, and I made a quick decision. I opened the door and climbed in to grab the papers out of the glove box. I wasn’t sure why I had
grabbed them in the first place for this trip, but now I was glad I did. After finding a pen in there, too, I signed the paper, and climbed back out of the SUV.

  “Here, it’s yours.” I handed him the title to the car. I didn’t need the money, and I didn’t want to deal with the car anymore. Joe’s mouth dropped open, and he held out his hands.

  “Are you serious?” He was in shock. His son was just looking at me with an uncertain grin on his face. Yeah, this was totally worth it. They would have a nice family car to drive around in.

  “Yep. Have fun!” I grabbed my suitcase out of the back seat and walked back towards the little diner on the other end of the truck stop. The man I made a deal with was standing next to a big, blue semi-trailer truck, stretching. He was taller than I had thought, and bigger, too. As I neared the truck, I finally took him in. The low-lit diner hadn’t done him justice. He wasn’t attractive; he was beautiful. His hair was hanging down as he bent to touch his toes. When he lifted up and stretched his arms over his head, his blue thermal shirt rode up, and I could see tan skin—muscular tan skin. His jeans rode low and covered brown boots.

  The clicking of my own girly version of trucker boots alerted him to my approach.

  “Hiya!” I waved with my free hand. He dropped his hands and waited for me to get closer.

  “We’re driving by my rules, none of that peeing-every-hour shit, okay?” I just nodded. I had peed before I talked to him; I would be good for a little while.

  “Where are we heading?” My excitement for this trip was hard to contain, but I didn’t wanna weird him out with my exuberance.

  “Orlando,” he huffed. He was certainly not a big talker. That’s all right. I could be quiet for a little while. Then I could probably talk for the both of us.

  “Then where?”

  “California.” Heck, yeah!

  “All right! Shall we get this show on the road?” I was so ready to get started. This was a new chapter in my life. I had no clue where my storyline was going to head, but I was willing to turn the pages one by one to find out.

  He didn’t answer me, but opened his door and climbed in. So, not the gentleman type. That’s okay. I was a big girl. I looked back at the truck stop one last time. Was I really going to do this? Take off with a stranger and travel across the country with him?

  “Yes. Yes, you are, Livia,” I told myself, and strode off towards my new home for the next month. This was going to be something—whether it was a good something or a bad something remained to be seen.

  Chapter Two

  Killian

  This woman had some screws loose. That or something really terrible had happened to her, something that made her so desperate that she would come up with this crazy deal. I could be a serial killer, or even just an asshole who thought women owed him something. She climbed into the cab of my truck, and looked around. Her blonde hair was blown out of the braid she had it in. Right now she could pass for a crazy woman.

  “Oh, wow. Very spacious, and you have a bunk bed. Perfect!” she said, giddy. Thank fuck that my friend Joel wanted to ride with me occasionally. Otherwise I would have never gotten the bunk feature, and went with just the solo sleeper.

  “I’m not gonna have to deal with cops or anybody trying to find you, right?” It was a thought that crossed my mind after she left. She could be a runaway from her family, and I wasn’t interested in being put in the middle of it. Just another reason I should have said no to her proposal, except there was something in her eyes that told me not to, that she needed this like she needed air, and fuck if I was going to let this woman suffocate.

  I didn’t really need the money; trucking was something I started doing because I enjoyed being on the road. But fifteen grand was fifteen grand.

  “Nope, I’m twenty-six, single, and on my own for now. No worries. Nada.” She was practically bouncing in her seat from excitement. Christ, one of those women. Bubbly types. Never gonna stop. I didn’t reply and occupied myself with starting the truck.

  “Here.” She handed me an envelope.

  “Rob a bank?” I took it and started counting.

  “Yep, just last night. It’s why I’m so desperate to get out of here. Can’t be too many blondes in this area that fit my description.” That I could agree with. Her hair was very light, almost platinum, and currently a mess. But it still looked good on her. Her body was small; she was probably only five foot five, weighing a buck twenty-five. She was wearing black leggings and a black sweater that came down to mid-thigh. But what really stood out was her face. Her cheekbones were high, her lips were all pink and the top and bottom matched in size. Then there were her eyes. She was looking at me now, trying to see if she had gotten me to crack up from her little joke, but I wasn’t laughing. I was stuck staring into those eyes. Different colors, something I hadn’t seen before. It was like staring into space. You never knew what it held; so many secrets, so much knowledge of the world, and yet untouchable, except to a lucky few. Which reminded me—I needed to focus on counting the money to make sure we were good to go. We were; she hadn’t lied. I logged my start hour in the books before buckling up.

  The truck started to roll once I put it into gear, and this shit show was officially on the road.

  “So, Lemarque, right? That’s what the other guys were calling you.” I looked at her briefly then back to the road. Not sure if I wanted to give her my first name or not, so I ended up just staying silent, focused on getting onto the highway.

  “I’m Livia.” She grinned at me, her light and happiness was making me feel like an old grumpy bastard. Playing the part I was feeling, I just huffed at her.

  “Right, silent type. No worries. I can be quiet for a little while.” She looked determined. My clock on the dash said8:10 a.m. I bet myself a pack of Twizzlers the next time we stopped that she wouldn’t be able to make it thirty minutes without talking.

  The silence was pleasant, too bad I was right and it only lasted eighteen minutes.

  “So what do you transport? I noticed the big trailer behind us, but it’s just like a normal container.” She looked at me expectantly, her eyes wide, wanting to learn about everything. She seemed more like a college student, than a twenty-six-year-old.

  “Cars.”

  “Cars? I thought they transported cars on those stacked, open trailers?” She wanted me to explain more. I sighed; this is why I didn’t hang around people any more. I was shitty at small talk. A trucker’s life was perfect for me. You’re alone. No small talk.

  “I transport classic and exotic cars for private clients.” She smiled that I gave her a bigger answer than one word.

  “That is awesome. I’m more of a simple car girl myself, but whatever people are into, ya know? Keeps you busy, I’m sure,” she said and then seemed to be content with what she’d learned and took to looking out the window.

  We were about forty minutes away from the dealer, and, not for the first time since agreeing to this deal, I thought about how this whole month was going to go. She hadn’t asked to piss yet, so that was a start. I could share my prepped chicken wraps with her until we hit a grocery store in San Diego once we dropped off the cars. As long as she didn’t cause chaos to my regimen, I’d live.

  I had survived worse than a little blonde with a bubbly personality staying in my rig. Unless she was a slob. Being in the military had made me hyper-organized. I had a spot for everything, and I knew that even though she had just one bag with her, that bag could explode and cover every inch of my space. My body shuddered just thinking about it.

  “You can put your bag in the back.” I nodded towards the bunk area in the rig.

  “That’s okay. I actually like being cramped a little. Just another weird thing about me.” For some reason, I wanted to hear what the other things she thought were weird about her.

  Moving on, I watched the traffic on I-4. People could be idiots around trucks, so I needed to be on the watch, and prayed I avoided an accident with these Mickey Mouse tourists.


  Thankfully, we missed most of the traffic as I took the off-ramp towards the dealer. When we pulled into the car lot, I parked and got out to meet Roger, the owner of the cars I was transporting. This guy wasn’t as easygoing as the others I’d met. But he was a popular car dealer for most of my clients.

  “Killian. Right on time, as usual. The cars are over there.” He handed me the keys and walked back under the shade of the garage to watch his two men load up the cars with me. I got everything in the container ready for the cars. That meant unloading my motorcycle first, so it could be put in last. I always brought my bike with me, in case I wanted to get away from the truck for a moment. My all-black 2016 Aprilia RSV4 sports bike was my other pride and joy, after my truck.

  One shiny red and black Bugatti Veyron pulled up, and we loaded her up into the first spot. I worked to secure the car with straps while the men loaded up the next car. They were quick and efficient, especially great when I had a deadline.

  “Nice.” I complimented the candy apple red 1954 Chevy truck before me. While I wouldn’t own cars like the one I carried across the U.S., I could still appreciate them. My 2013 Peterbilt 589 and my bike was all I ever needed. This shit Joel liked was an obsession for him. He was going to end up having his own car shows every Sunday if he kept going like this. But like Livia said, whatever makes people happy. After getting my bike back in the trailer, and double-checking that everything was secure, I climbed back up in the rig and looked at the blonde still in her seat.

  “We’re going to that fuel station, and then heading out. You’ve got ten minutes to do whatever it is you want before we leave. We’ve got nine hours of driving ahead, and I don’t plan on stopping more than an hour of time combined.” I tried to get out and stretch every once in a while to keep limber. Driving for so long could fuck up your body if you didn’t treat it right.

  “Okie, so no Big Gulps. Aye aye, captain.” She saluted me and once again looked happy to be sitting in the seat, ready to go on a long-ass road trip. It was odd she was so relaxed in the cab, especially with a stranger, and being easy with the rules. I had expected her to give me shit.

 

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