Page 13 of Truck Driver


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“I can’t go with you.” I sink back onto my heels. “This is where I live now. My life is here.” I’m not sure why I decide not to tell him I’m pregnant. Maybe because I don’t think he’ll allow me to remain behind if he knows I’m carrying his child. I don’t know, but I tuck my secret down deep and guard it like only a mother would. “I’ve worked really hard to carve out this little routine. This life. And I’m staying here.”

“I see how hard you’ve worked to make a life in this place without me and I’m so goddamn proud of what you’ve done all by yourself, baby. Those comic book heroes don’t have anything on you. But we can’t stay here, Tatum,” he says, beginning to look concerned. “The ring has been eliminated, but I just killed two men. We have to move. Tonight.”

“I can’t,” I whisper. “You did these terrible things in order to protect me. As much as I’m grateful for them…they scare me.”

“No.” He searches me eyes, a realization seeming to dawn on him. “I scare you.”

My throat starts to ache. “Yes.”

All at once, he seems to realize there is blood on his face—and in kissing me, the red substance has transferred to mine. Looking horrified, he strips off his shirt and uses it to clean the smears of blood off my face. “Let me take you home, Tatum. We’ll talk about this. I’m not leaving without you.” He drops the shirt and takes my shoulders, shaking me gently. “I’ve barely been able to fucking breathe for three months.”

I’m not going with him.

But we can’t stay here.

We need to leave this crime scene now, before we’re discovered. I’m surprised I’m able to think this clearly when he’s pinning me with those intense, imploring eyes.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Come to my place. Get cleaned up. I’m not far from here.”

He keeps hold of me, like I might run away or disappear. “Tatum…” All at once, he lunges, flattening me against the wall of the alley. “I need to fuck,” he rasps into my hair. “You going to let me fuck you in your bed? Tell me yes. I’m half insane—I know that. I know, baby. Being away from you did this to me. Tell me I get to have your pussy tonight or I’m going full-blown mad. I need that hot little pussy. Need to wreck it.”

“I d-don’t know,” I stammer, lust sneaking in like a summer heat wave and wafting its way through my middle. Lower. Tickling my loins into a twist. “Won’t that only make leaving harder?”

His frustrated curse peppers the air. “Every time you suggest we’re going to be apart, I go a little more insane, Tatum,” he says in a warning tone, his body pressing me tight, tight, tight to the wall. “Please stop.”

I swallow hard, my fear sensors ringing over the unnatural light in his eyes. “Let’s go home. For now, let’s just focus on getting cleaned up. Okay?”

He’s hard.

Between us, there is a thick ridge trapped between our stomachs and I can see how badly he wants to use it. Right here in the alley. His fingertips are tracing the waistband of my jeans, ready to yank them down. “Not in front of…th-the bodies…” I whisper.

“But later?” Hoss says against my mouth. Urgently.

A hot full-body shiver passes through me. “I don’t know.”

He presses his forehead to mine and lets out a rocky exhale. “Tatum…don’t punish me. I did what I had to do.”

With my heart in my throat, I take his hand and guide him from the alley. “So did I.”

Chapter Six

Hoss

I already suspected I’d gone a little crazy without Tatum.

The way she peers up at me confirms it. I’ve become a beast.

Look at me. Walking down the street shirtless, my hands covered in gunshot residue and blood, walking beside this innocent creature. My princess. My reason for living when the walls were closing in and I hadn’t seen daylight in weeks. I’m starved for her breath on my skin, her body beneath mine. I scared myself back in the alley, because Jesus, I almost ripped off her pants and took her, despite her denials. Despite her obvious nerves in my presence.

We stop in front of a boarded-up restaurant and she guides me to an outdoor staircase climbing the side of the building. It leads to a beaten-up door—and no, no, please don’t tell me this is where she has been living. There isn’t another soul out on the street because it’s largely deserted. The perfect place to prey on a female.

Did I get to her just in time?

Or am I the animal preying on her now?

I don’t know. My head is so fucked. I’m broken and restless and desperate to find solace between her thighs. In her arms. I miss her voice and scent and sense of humor. And as she lets me into her little apartment, perhaps against her better judgment, I toy with the notion of boarding the door and never letting her out.

That’s how I know I’m bad for her.

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