Page 2 of The Highwaymen

“Yeah? Is it like that?” He turned toward me, dark eyes gleaming in the low light.

“Not a fucking bit,” I replied, and he laughed.

We rode in silence for a while, the only sound the rumble of the engine and the whir of the tires on the pavement. I kept my eyes on the road, but I could feel the kid's gaze on me, studying me.

“So, what's your name?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

I snorted. “You ask all your Johns for their names?”

“You’re not a John, and I’m just trying to be friendly.” He shrugged. “Los Angeles is a long drive. Figured it doesn’t hurt to have a little conversation.”

I glanced over at him. “Stuart,” I said. “Friends call me Stu.”

“I'm Jamie,” he replied, flashing me a grin. “Nice to meet you, Stu.”

I grunted in response, focusing on the road ahead. The highway stretched out before us, an endless ribbon of asphalt cutting through the desolate desert landscape.

“So, what’s your story, Stu?” Jamie asked, propping his feet up on the dashboard. “You don't seem like the type to be picking up hitchhikers.”

“Is there a type?”

He shrugged again. “Kinda. Most guys I ride with are of a certain sort. They’re usually real nice. Sweet almost. I get the occasional perv who thinks he can get handsy for free, but most guys are just guys, you know?”

“And I’m not, huh?”

“Nah, you’re different. Don’t know how yet, but I can feel it.”

I sighed. “Guess I'm just a sucker for a pretty face.”

He laughed at that, a warm, rich sound that filled the cab. “Well, lucky me then.”

We lapsed back into silence, the miles ticking by. I found myself stealing glances at Jamie, taking in the way the moonlight played across his features, the way his lips curved into a slight smile as he stared out the window.

“So, what'syourstory?” I asked, throwing his own question back at him. “What's a good-looking kid like you doing out here working thelot?”

Jamie shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his shorts. “Just trying to get by, you know? It's not like there are a lot of options out there for guys like me.”

“Guys like you?”

He gave me a sideways glance. “You know what I mean.”

“Afraid I don’t.”

Jamie sighed, his expression turning serious. “Guys who are on their own. No family, no prospects. The kind of guys who are just trying to survive day to day, doing whatever it takes.”

There was a heaviness to his words that made me wonder what he'd seen.

“That why you were hopping from cab to cab back there?” I asked. “Just trying to survive?”

He was quiet for a moment, staring out at the dark landscape flashing by. “Something like that,” he said finally. “Let's just say those truckers and I had a…disagreement about payment.”

I raised an eyebrow. “They stiff you?”

Jamie let out a bitter laugh. “More like they wanted something not on the menu. Had to bail before things got ugly.” He folded his arms. “I’m strictly mouth and hands only at work. I don’t do butt stuff with clients, no matter how much they’re willing to pay. Too fucking risky.”

I felt a flare of anger at the thought of someone trying to take advantage of the kid like that. But I tamped it down, keeping my expression neutral. “Sounds like you handled it.”

“I always do.” There was a hard edge to his voice now. “I know how to handle myself.”

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