Page 15 of Truck Stop Tempest

I tried to talk myself out of waiting for her. Then I realized I was going to hell anyway, so what difference would it make if I committed a few more sins? I’d pulled my car around back, where I knew she’d exit, and I waited.

Fuck. She was still a kid. Every time she was near, I struggled to keep my hands off, reminded myself she was off limits. Yet, I woke every morning anxious to see her face, aching to hear that sweet, soft voice.

The back door opened. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. She came outside, turned, and locked the door. Charlie would be inside closing up the place, and it irritated me that he hadn’t come out to see her safely to the bus stop.

Then again, maybe Charlie didn’t know she took the bus. I only knew because I’d obsessively watched since the night Tango had carried her out of the bloody motel room where I’d killed the last surviving member of the Markovic Cartel. The night she had tried to defend Aida from Rafael Turner, a man twice her size, putting her own life on the line.

I’d have a talk with Charlie. Tomorrow.

For the time being, I would see her safely home.

Tuuli searched for something in her purse and hadn’t noticed my car yet. I opened the door and stepped into the cold night air, blowing a low whistle to catch her attention.

The timid little bunny looked up, and swear to Christ, when she smiled, my knees buckled. Thank fuck I’d stayed behind my door.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

Whatever she’d been looking for was forgotten and she made her way to my car. I jogged around to the passenger door and pulled it open.

When her breast brushed against my arm, I damn near groaned out loud. She was a baby, making me nothing more than a pedo pervert. Fuck.

Under Voltolini’s command, I had tortured, dismembered, and disposed of pedophiles. I’d agreed to help Tucker and Aida take more of them down. Yet there I sat, pining over a child myself.

I had to shake this kid.

And I would. After I saw her safely home.

I turned up the heat and the stereo and made my way out of The Truck Stop parking lot. Tiamat’s “Love in Chains” belted through the speakers and I chuckled. Fitting.

Tuuli turned, eyes bright. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Which way am I going?” I asked, pausing at the intersection.

“1415 Apricot Lane.”

I turned the volume up a notch, discouraging conversation, and drove into the night toward Tuuli’s home, where I would drop her off, then head to a local bar and drink her out of my system.

When I pulled in front of her house, she twisted in her seat to face me, turned the volume down, and stared at me long and hard.

Damn, how I wanted to stare back, get lost in those wild blue eyes, let her see the real me. Instead, I said, “What?”

My guts twisted at the hurt on her face. Her brows drew tight before she dropped her gaze to the console between us. Good. I couldn’t let her see how she affected me.

“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Um. I just…” She shook her head and reached for the door handle. “Thank you. That’s all.” She slipped out, closed the door, and ran to the gate leading to the house. With one hand on the picket fence, she glanced at me over her shoulder.

I hated being the reason for that sad expression. Hated myself for wanting to be the reason for her smile. So, I drove away before seeing her safely inside. I drove away before getting out of the car and acting on my urges.