Page 108 of Truck Off

“Don’t care.” He leans in and kisses me, then he slaps me on the ass. “Now go finish getting ready for bed. I’ll get the fan situated.”

By the time I make it back to the bedroom, the overhead light is off. The small lamp next to my bed is the only light on. He’s stretched out on my bed with his back against the wall. The room is already cooler with the fan running. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I thought it’d be.

He pats the narrow spot next to him, then lifts his arm over his head. I can’t help but smile at how good he looks. Chase is tall and slender but very well defined. I don’t know if he works out or if he owes his firm body to working on the farm.

His body is tanned with hints of those farmer tan lines I’ve seen on others. With as tanned as his chest is, I can only assume he works outside without a shirt on most days.

Curling up next to him and keeping my hands to myself when he looks so damn delicious isn’t going to be easy.

I click the door shut behind me and step across my small room. After flicking the lamp off, I crawl into bed, facing him. One arm wraps around my back, hugging me close, while his other hand slides up my body. His touch is so gentle it almost tickles.

His palm lightly presses against my throat and his fingers brush across my neck, right where Charlie’s arm held me against the wall.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers, just before he kisses my forehead.

I want to tell him no—save him from the anger I know he’ll feel from the truth—but that would be a lie. I need to be honest with him. Always. Even if it hurts him.

“A little.” I look up at him to gauge his reaction. “My wrist hurts more from where he grabbed it.”

His jaw tenses, and I immediately cup my hand around his cheek.

“I’m okay,” I say. “I promise. In fact, I kinda wish he really had hurt me.”

He pushes up on his elbow and glares down at me. “Why would you say that?”

I take a deep breath, debating on how much to tell him. He’s not going to like my truth, but I think he needs to hear so he understands me better. That night with Charlie shaped the person I became just as much as my mom leaving and the nightmare with the MC. I just hope he doesn’t lose his temper and do something stupid, like take revenge on my behalf.

“I need you to promise me you won’t do anything.”

His eyes narrow. “This is already starting off poorly for Charlie. Why do I get the feeling I’m gonna want to put him six feet under?”

“Chase.” I warn. “Promise me you won’t touch him, or I won’t tell you.”

He holds my gaze for several seconds before he finally lets out a slow breath. “Fine. I won’t touch him unless he lays his hands on you again.”

“Fair enough.” I run my fingers through his hair, mostly as a stalling tactic, but also because I know he likes it. Then I take a breath, digging deep for my strength. “I was fourteen and—”

His entire body goes stiff with those few words. He knows exactly how much older Charlie is than me. Charlie went to school with Liam, Chase’s oldest brother.

“So he was nineteen,” he says, more as a statement than a question.

“Yeah. He was the cute, charming, older guy who seemed like local royalty to dumb little girls like me. And he asked me out on a date. I wasn’t old enough to date yet. Dad said I had to wait until I was sixteen.”

“Smart man.” Chase grumbles.

“But I wanted to say yes. Badly. All the girls in my class had a crush on him, like he was a movie star or something. It made me feel special. That wasn’t something I was used to feeling. Not with the MC and how they treated all the women and girls like property. To everyone but my dad, I was just a pretty face. Someone that would look good standing by their side.”

I cringe at the memory of how Smoke made me feel. His creepy eyes were always looking at me like he was imagining me naked.

“Anyway.” I shake off the memory and focus on an equally bad one. “I told Charlie that I wasn’t allowed to date yet. He said he’d wait and ask me out again in a couple of years. He was sweet, and I believed him. Then he offered to drive me home.”

“Fuck.” Chase sits up and shoves his hands into his hair. “I don’t like where this is going.”

I join him, tossing my legs around him until I’m straddling his lap. “It didn’t go where your mind is thinking. I promise. But he did hurt me.”

Chase drops his head to my chest, and I wrap him up in a tight hug. “As soon as I got in his car, he came onto me. He tried to get my clothes off me, but I fought him. When I refused to have sex with him, he called me a tease and then hit me. Said I had no business looking the way I did if I wasn’t going to let men take what they wanted. He was no different from the men of the MC. That was the day I started hating my appearance. I wasn’t just some pretty face that men like him could do what they wanted with. It’s what first started my obsession with tattoos. I own my body, and no one touches it unless I say they can.”

Chase is quiet. It’s almost as if he isn’t even breathing. But then he looks up at me. I expect to see anger and rage. But I don’t. His eyes glisten from the pain he’s feeling for what happened to the fourteen-year-old version of me.

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