Page 88 of Unwrapping Deviance

The keys rattle with my futile attempts to get them into the ignition. My hands are shaking too hard. It takes several attempts but I slide them in place.

I don’t turn the truck on, but sit with my hands on the wheel, torn between ramming the truck into the store and getting help. The latter already feeling hopeless; the sheriff wouldn’t help. He’d let those monsters hurt Christian and Daniel. Or worse.

Ramming seems like the only choice I have left. Fuck getting charged. I will run those motherfuckers over if they put one finger on my boys. I will smear the fucking road with their flesh and guts. I will get out, get their wallets, find their homes and kill everyone they love. They are not going to take Daniel from me, or Christian.

My fingers tighten around the wheel. A new feeling taking root in the pit of my stomach. A vengeful and bloodthirsty demon starving to devour its enemies. I stare with absolute focus at the doors, scan the windows. Searching for a hint of anything unusual.

I see them a moment later, both boys, unharmed, leaving the front door with wide, purposeful strides in my direction. My heart jumps in my chest and I’m about to relax my hold when I see the door fly open a second later and the three men from before storm out.

“Oh, hell fucking no,” I growl under my breath, fingers fumbling for the keys.

I don’t flip the engine, but I’m ready to. I’m holding my breath and watching for even a hint that Daniel and Christian are in danger. I wait for those motherfuckers to take even a step towards them.

But they stay by the shop, watching my boys walk away. Not one makes a move in their direction and some of my homicidal tendencies abate by a fraction.

Still, I hold my breath until Christian is next to his bike with Daniel. The pair exchange a few words that end with Christian giving a reluctant nod. Daniel pivots and stalks to the back seat of the truck and tosses three bags down on the floor behind the passenger’s side seat. He doesn’t say anything to me but slams the door and turns back to his brother.

I watch baffled as the pair roll Christian’s bike towards the back of the truck and load it into the bed. It’s strapped down with thick, black bands.

All the while, the trio motherfuckers are still standing in place, watching us and I have to resist the urge to flip them off.

Bike secure, Christian and Daniel move to my side of the truck. I hastily unlock the doors and climb across the console into my seat just as the boys get in. Daniel behind the wheel and Christian in the back behind him.

No one says a word as Daniel turns the key and gets us the hell out of here.

I reach for Daniel’s hand. I pull it into my lap and hold it tight. He doesn’t speak but gives my fingers a gentle squeeze I feel fist around my gut.

I glance back to Christian. His attention is out the window, expression a violent storm cloud of emotions. I opt on instinct and twist my free arm back and over Daniel’s seat to gently skim his knee with my fingertips. He jerks in surprise. Head pivoting in my direction. His gaze drops to my extended fingers. There’s aflicker of surprise before he captures them. Threads his through mine and holds tight.

“Hungry, baby?” Daniel says after a very long, very silent drive that’s gone much longer than it would have taken to get back to the cabin.

I am. I never got to finish my breakfast thanks to that bitch Mabel.

“Yes,” I whisper. “But I don’t think I can go back to the diner.”

Daniel hesitates just long enough to make me glance at him. “We’re kind of not allowed back.”

I blink. “Gunner banned us?”

He grimaces. “Not exactly. Gunner’s a good man. Unfortunately, it’s also his business and unlike us, he doesn’t get to leave in a few days. He can’t take sides or look like he’s supporting ... us. I’m making the call. In fact,” his chest and shoulders lift with his sturdy inhale, “I think we need to avoid Jefferson for the rest of our time here. Mayfield is a few hours away, but it’s safer.”

“How many hours?” I gasp.

Daniel shifts and clears his throat. “Four.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to exclaim in outrage, but he’s right. I sure as shit don’t ever want to step foot in Jefferson again. Now more than ever. If we have to drive a few hours to avoid these people, I’m all for it.

But that gives us four hours of uninterrupted conversation time that they can’t avoid.

“Who’s Lucy?”

Both men snap their heads in my direction so fast, I expect the truck to swerve. But Daniel’s eyes immediately jump back to the road.

“Who told you about...?” he doesn’t finish. I guess realizing.

It’s Christian who answers, “A fucking mistake.”

I release both their hands and twist slightly in my seat with my leg bent under me to face them.

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