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“I’m just down the block.” His jaw twitches as he eyes me. “Where’s your jacket?”
“At home.”
“Right,” he grumbles, walking faster. Stopping beside a truck a couple of minutes later, he looks down at Nikki, who is now completely passed out. “I gonna need you to grab my keys out of my pocket, babe.” He turns his hip toward me.
Feeling my pulse skyrocket, I bite my lip and tuck my hand into the front pocket of his jeans and grab his key. Then avoiding looking at him I use them to get the doors unlocked before opening the back one for him to put Nikki inside. He slams her door, then opens the front passenger side for me, and I climb up into his truck, which is a feat between the height and my heels.
Looking back at Nikki as he walks around the hood, I lean back and shake her arm. “Nikki, I need to know where you live,” she groans at me, and I shake her again. “Nikki.”
“I don’t want any.”
“I need to know your address,” I tell her, but she doesn’t respond. With a sigh, I find my phone and pull up Emma’s number as Tucker gets in behind the wheel.
“Everything okay?” He starts the engine.
“I’m calling Emma to see if she can get me Nikki’s address, since I can’t get her to tell me,” I say, then groan when Emma’s phone goes to voicemail. “You know, if I were being kidnapped, you’d be no help,” I grumble as my message after it beeps, then hang up. “She didn’t pick up.”
“I gathered that much.”
“I guess I’ll just take her to my place,” I say, and without a word, he pulls out into traffic, and since he knows where I live, I don’t bother giving him directions.
“How long have you lived in Tennessee?” he asks as he drives us across town.
“I think ten years.” I frown, trying to remember, because it feels like forever ago. “I grew up in Washington state. Emma and I met in cosmetology school there. I planned on sticking close to home, but when she told me she was moving to Tennessee, I decided I was going with her.”
“You two are close?”
“She’s more my sister than my friend.”
“Do you have siblings?”
“An older brother, Walker. He was ten when my parents had me, so I was the annoying little sister, always trying to follow him around. He’s an underwater welder and travels all the time for work, so I don’t see him often.”
I watch as he turns into the lot for my apartment complex, then whip my head around to look over my shoulder when Nikki whispers, “Oh no.”
“Do not puke,” I beg as she sits up, covering her mouth. “Oh God, stop the truck,” I order Tucker when her eyes widen, and she starts to shake her head.
Fumbling for the handle as he swings into the parking area by the park, I get the door open before he’s even stopped and hop out, almost falling to my knees and ignoring Tucker’s shout at me. Righting myself, I jerk open Nikki’s door, then jump back when she vomits on the ground. As a mom, I’ve gotten used to a lot of grossness, but puke is the one thing I just can’t seem to get over. Between the smell and the sight, my stomach twists, and saliva fills my mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” Nikki whimpers before puking again, while Tucker storms around the back of the truck.
“What the fuck was that Miranda?” he shouts, and I step back from him. I’ve seen him angry, or I thought I had the night of the policemen’s ball, but I was obviously wrong. The rage on his face as he looms over me is terrifying. “You ever fucking hop out of a moving truck like that again, I’m spanking your fucking ass.”
“You did not just say that” I whisper, and he points at me.
“I could have run you over. I wasn’t even stopped when you flung yourself out onto the fucking street. Do you understand how fucking dangerous that was?”
“Stop cursing at me.”
“Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Of course, I heard you. I’m sure everyone heard you since you’re yelling at me!” I shout back, tossing my arms in the air and getting pissed myself.
“Oh God,” Nikki whimpers as he and I glare at each other.
“Fuck,” he mutters, chest heaving.
I draw in a breath to try to calm my tattered nerves, then say calmly, hoping to deescalate the situation, “I didn’t want her to puke in your truck.”
“I’d rather fucking clean up her puke than your blood from under my fucking tires.”
“If you’ve ever tried to clean up puke from inside your vehicle, you’d know that’s a lie.”
“Jesus Christ,” he growls, fisting his hands at his sides.
Glaring at him, I know I should stay quiet, but apparently, I’m a teenager again who can’t let anyone have the last word. “Also, you shouldn’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”
