Page 124 of Truck Up
The silence is a ticking bomb as my family processes what I’ve told them.
“Now we’ll keep you safe too,” Linden says. “And when I’m done with Badger, he’ll never be able to touch another woman again.”
“No, don’t!” I call out, but it’s too late. My brothers have already rushed out the front door.
“Oh, dear.” Mom presses her hand to her chest and grabs her phone. “We have to stop them.”
I fall back on the couch and let my friends surround me in safety. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
The last thing I want is for my brothers to pay for Badger’s horrible decisions. If they get their hands on him, he’ll never live to see another day.
Chapter 26
Falling over the edge.
Christian
Acold dread settles in my stomach the moment I open my eyes, a premonition of impending doom that makes me want to crawl back under the covers and pretend this day doesn’t exist. But like a fool, I get up, the lure of routine proving stronger than my growing unease.
Rather than heading to the garage for work, I take a detour. A ride is the only thing that will give me a reprieve.
As soon as my bike roars to life, a hint of that doom dissipates. Speed is my only means of escape.
When I hit a straight stretch in the road, I close my and lift the visor on my helmet. The wind whips around me, and the icy air bites at my skin, a welcome sting against the numbness that’s creeping in.
It’s too cold for a ride, but I don’t care. I need this, need to feel the raw power of the machine beneath me, to feel alive, to feel anything but this suffocating craving and dread.
I don’t know where I’m going, just riding, letting the road guide me. This is my escape, my refuge from the chaos of my life.
I spot a small pull-off ahead, a sliver of green amidst the barren landscape as winter knocks on our door. I pull in next tothe lone car occupying this space, the engine of my bike dying with a satisfying growl.
Curiosity piqued, I spot a trail leading toward a cluster of picnic tables. A young couple sits at one, their laughter mingling with the playful squeals of a small child running in circles.
Normally, I’d avoid human contact, but something draws me toward them, a desperate yearning for connection, for a glimpse of simple human joy. I need to find some hope in this world, and that child, with his carefree laughter, offers a glimmer of it.
When I get close, the man stands and waves. “Hi there. A little cold for a motorcycle ride, isn’t it?”
I shrug. “I like riding too much to care.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess I can appreciate that. That’s how I feel about hiking.”
“Is that why you’re out on this cold morning?” I ask.
“Yes.” The woman answers for him. He grins at her, and they share a look that expresses the love they feel for each other. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever have that with Amelia. It’s the kind of love that I don’t know if I’m capable of giving.
“Yeah, you got me there.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “Not much keeps me inside. Except maybe my kids.”
The woman snorts. “Maybe not that one.” She points at the boy running around. “But I still have control of this little darling.”
I look down and see an infant against her chest. She’s got one of those baby slings wrapped around her, holding the baby close. Between her heavy coat and the knit cap on the baby’s head, I didn’t even notice it until she said something.
“How old?” I ask.
She rubs the baby’s back and smiles up at me. “This one is three months. Our son is almost four.”
“Daddy!” The boy comes running at his dad and hits him in the legs, wrapping his little arms around him. “I wanna go down there.”
“In a minute.” He pats the boy’s head. “I’m talking to this man.”