Page 21 of Truck Driver


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I’ve got a hotel room booked for tonight. After back to school night ends. I’m going to rip her pretty blue dress to shreds to get at those big, beautiful tits.

Just as I’m willing myself to look away from the perfection of Tatum and join the rest of the parents, I notice a man behind her. Notice him leaning forward to say something in my wife’s ear, brushing a strand of hair out of the way in order to do it. And I see her shoulders stiffen, eyes going round with alarm. My heart drums uncontrollably in my chest, rage turning my blood to boiling. What the fuck did I just witness? Did that man just make a pass at my wife?

Yeah.

He did.

I can tell by the way Tatum moves to a different part of the room, hugging her elbows. Searching the entrance of the classroom for me.

I’m running before I know I’ve moved.

On the way to the room, I know this is bad. I know damn well how capable I am of violence. After all, I slaughtered a dozen men to keep Tatum safe five years ago. I made positive back then that no danger could ever touch her—or our family—again. I’ve managed to bottle the intensity and let it out only in doses, but it threatens to erupt now.

In one fell swoop, I could ruin everything.

I’ll get arrested. That’s the only way my fingerprints or DNA could be linked to any of the murders. If that happens, I’ll be taken away from my family, found responsible for the kills I made as Hoss.

Unless I’m careful.

Outside of the classroom, I manage to get myself under control, schooling my features before walking in with an apology, going to stand near Tatum. Since I’m the local comic book shop owner, everyone knows me and I receive several waves. Very deliberately, I don’t look at the man who dared touch a strand of my wife’s hair. I don’t look because I know I won’t hold it together. Instead, I thread my fingers through Tatum’s and tuck her against my side, shielding her from view of the man I plan on…speaking with tonight.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair.

“It’s okay,” she says back. “You wouldn’t be late unless it was important.”

My chest swells with so much love, I have to focus on breathing in and out. I love this woman so damn much. I love her trust in me. That she knows I can be counted on. I’m the luckiest man alive to have her. To be this woman’s protector—and protect her I will.

Half an hour later, I’ve let go of Tatum’s hand long enough to let her converse with some of the other mothers. And that’s when I finally let myself look at the son of a bitch. I smile at him and tip my head at the hallway. After a slight hesitation, he follows, probably reassuring himself that I couldn’t have seen what he did. That I didn’t witness him taking the biggest risk of his life. But he’s about to find out he’s wrong.

As soon as he joins me in the hallway, I wrap his necktie around my fist and drag him to the closest stairwell, kicking the door shut behind us while he chokes in alarm. “What…what the hell are you doing?”

I don’t bother answering. I simply tighten my hold on his tie and pull down with all of my strength, bashing his nose into the metal railing. Hard. Teeth clenched, pulse hammering wildly in my temples, I lift his bloody face back up to mine and look him dead in his terrified eyes. “If I ever see you so much as look at my fucking wife again, I swear to God, they will institutionalize me for the things I do to you. Do you understand me? I will walk around this town with that slimy hand dangling from my belt. Your death will be so painful, you’ll be begging for it by the time it arrives.” I slam his face into the railing twice more, satisfied by the crunch of bone. “Do you understand me, motherfucker?”

“Yes,” he slurs, blood pouring from his mouth.

“You’re lucky I’m leaving you alive this time.” I twist his tie another time around my fist. “I’d love to snap this neck like a twig.”

“No. Please.”

“It’s a shame you were hit by a car in the parking lot. They kept right on driving, didn’t they?”

He nods vigorously. “Yes.”

“Keep your mouth shut about me. And don’t ever, ever, ever breathe in my wife’s direction again or I’ll pay you another visit. I’ll be a lot less lenient.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he heaves raggedly, slumping to the stairs when I finally let him go. “Hit by a car. Fine.”

The man stumbles to his feet and lurches down the stairs, out an emergency exit.

I remove my own tie and use it to clean the specks of blood from my face and hands, breathing through the rage until I’m together enough to rejoin Tatum. But when I turn to pass back through the stairwell door, I find my wife standing there. Watching. Waiting.

For several seconds, her expression is blank. Unreadable.

Fear of her reaction threatens to topple me. No. No. No. I’ve been so careful not to show her the dark side of me for five years. She feels safe with me. And I’ve ruined all of it, all of those incredible trust building moments with her in one fell swoop—

The sound of her swallowing reaches my ears and I notice…her nipples are hard.

At first, I’m confused.

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