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Well, it’s dark out now, so it’s not like I’ll be missing much anyways.
I manage to pull Bennet to the baggage claim and find our luggage, and then I tug him over to the rental car booth where I rent us a car—well, a pickup truck. Do they make anything compact out here? I didn’t want the motherfucking upgrade, lady, so stop smiling at me. Okay, fine, just give it to me. You’re making me sweat with how nice you are.
I take the keys and walk outside to the truck and sigh. Haven’t these Midwestern people heard of saving fuel? Killing the earth is one thing, but my ego might not survive having to jump to get inside of the damn thing. It’s huge.
Me struggling to get inside the cab seems to snap Bennet out of his funk, and he gives me a small wobbly smile. I guess that was worth it.
I finally get myself situated in the front seat. I have to drag it all the way forward to reach the pedals, butwhatever. At least I’m not sitting on a stack of books. That would be mortifying.
And at least we aren’t riding a horse for three hours.
My delicate thighs couldn’t handle that. The only thing I ride is dick.
“Thank you,” Bennet says as I start the truck up and adjust the mirrors. “I…” His voice cracks and he bites down on his bottom lip. Oh no. Nope. Do not start crying again, Bennet. I cannot handle it.
He’s making my eyes sting. These desert eyeballs can’t handle a little rain. Flash floods and all that.
“It’s fine. Not another word about it. Just put your address in the truck’s GPS and pray to the gods we don’t die out here. Your sister said there were rogue cows…”
He watches me a moment, probably wondering if I am serious, and then does as he’s told.
And we’re off.
CHAPTERTWO
Jasper
This drive is endless. Why is Kansas so damn big? You could probably get rid of half of the state and not miss much. There really is nothing to see either. There are no lights out here, and everything is just pitch black.
Kansas is spooky.
Bennet doesn’t seem bothered by it though. He has his head against the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he exhales.
I fiddle with the radio, but it’s mostly static, and the cell service has cut out entirely. If we roll into a ditch somewhere, we will be eaten by beavers and crows. Or maybe coyotes. That’s more likely, isn’t it? I need to look up the local wildlife to know what I’ll have to compete against. I am on the shorter side. I need to know I can be at the top of the food chain.
Oh hell.
I shift in my seat and listen to the stuttering twang of country music crackle through the speakers. I wonder if this is what Bennet grew up listening to. If he rode around on horses and in big lifted trucks. Explains a lot actually. Makes perfect sense.
“GPS says we’ll be there soon,” I say, and Bennet nods.
“Yeah.”
Well, one word in three hours isn’t so bad. Maybe he’s coming out of his shock. I’ll take this to my grave, but I miss his usual sarcastic self. I don’t like a quiet Bennet. Makes me all…squirmy.
“Right up here,” he says, and I nearly crash the truck. The words are a little too loud and jarring. Thank fuck I’m an excellent driver because instead of crashing into a field, I manage to turn the truck onto the obscure dirt road. Our tires skid and rocks fly up against the undercarriage as we bump along until we finally come to some lights in the distance.
Damn, it’s dark out here. It’s like a cave.
“You really live in the literal middle of nowhere,” I say as I stop the truck and put it in park.
“Yeah,” he says and then sinks down into his seat further.
I look up at the farmhouse before us. It’s actually fairly large. I can’t see much from where we sit but there’s a porch light on, illuminating a wooden porch with a painted white swing. And in the distance, I can make out some other buildings. Don’t know what those would be. Probably a barn, if I had to guess. I’ll have to ask some other time when Bennet is coherent.
“Alright, here we go,” I say and then hop out, shivering almost immediately. Damn, it’s cold in Kansas. It’s the first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the airport. I should have brought snow gear. I grew up in California, I’m not used to these harsh temperatures.
I stride over to the passenger side of the truck because Bennet hasn’t moved at all. It’s like he doesn’t want to face any of this, and I don’t blame him. But he can’t stay in the damn truck. He will freeze to death. This isn’t San Diego.
