Page 48 of Corrupt Idol

“Yeah. Air Force,” Jesse said.

The man tipped his hat. “Thank you for your service.”

She was surprised, pleased, and then annoyed when they launched into military talk. Jesse couldn’t go anywhere without being acknowledged, honored, and admired. The men around them were all listening and nodding as he explained where he had been stationed and his last two years in remote Alaska. She didn’t want to listen, but it was impossible not to when he was sitting right beside her. She was intrigued despite herself as he told stories about the men in his unit, the friends he’d lost, and that he was heading to Japan next.

“Is this your lady?” one of the truckers asked.

She whipped her head around, mouth full of French toast. Jesse glanced at her and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he saw her dilemma.

“Yeah,” he said as he rubbed her back. “This is Violet.”

“You got a good man here, miss. Not many guys still have old-fashioned values nowadays. You better hang onto him.” The trucker shook Jesse’s hand and left with his buddies.

She swallowed and glared at Jesse as he ate his omelet. “Really?”

He stabbed a piece of French toast and ate it before she could stop him. “These are good.”

“You’re such an ass,” she hissed.

He examined her for a moment. “You didn’t get your coffee. That’s why you’re cranky.”

Her mouth sagged. He used the L word, fucked heragain, told strangers she was his, and didn’t think she had grounds to be upset? “You’re a goddamn psycho.”

He glanced at his watch. “Finish your food. I want to be on the road within the hour.”

She hopped off her stool and held out her hand. “Give me the keys. I’ll wait in the truck.”

“It’s hot,” he said.

“I don’t care!”

He dropped the keys in her hand. She stalked out of the diner and realized halfway across the parking lot that he had picked up another tab for her. Oh well. She climbed into the cab, rolled down the windows, and waited. He was right. It was hot, uncomfortably so. If she didn’t give a damn, she would have run the air conditioner, but she didn’t want to waste fuel. Apparently, she still had a conscience, unlike him.

She texted her friends to let them know she would reach Austin in a few hours and watched the morning traffic ebb and flow. She was sweating and starting to wonder if he was making her wait on purpose when she saw him striding toward her. Relieved, she started up the truck and leaned toward the vents to cool down.

“Here.”

She glanced at him and blinked when she saw that he was holding an iced coffee. She took it and gave it a wary sniff.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t put anything in this, would you?”

He buckled his seat belt. “What would I need to drug you for?”

Right. He got everything he wanted from her.

He pulled out of the parking lot and navigated through the small town before he found his way onto the interstate. She took a tentative sip and let her eyes flutter shut. It was an excellent white mocha. She bit back a moan.

“Good?”

She opened her eyes and saw he was watching her.

“Yes,” she said grudgingly and then waved a hand. “Eyes on the road!”

He grinned as he returned his attention to the road. She sat back and despite what occurred in the motel room, her spirits began to lift. She was almost home. Soon, they would be with Lynne and her father and Jesse would be heading off to Japan. She would settle in Texas and set about recovering financially, emotionally, mentally. Then, she would figure out what to do with her life. One good thing came out of facing Jesse again. He wasn’t the bogeyman under her bed any longer. He was definitely a psycho, but one she could handle. She faced him and lived to tell the tale. For now, she would play nice for their parent’s sake. Neither of them would rock the boat on that front, but in future, she would revert back to avoiding him at all costs.

Would he come back to Texas if Lynne was no longer around? A surge of ambivalent emotions swept through her. Lynne was the only family he had. After she was gone, he would have no one. Well, he would have Dad. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Today, he added a trucker’s hat to his ensemble, but everything else was the same. He hadn’t shaved, which gave him a five o’clock shadow. On the surface he seemed content, but the tales he shared with the men in the diner told a different story. He had lost a lot of friends and people he respected since he had joined the military and although he had glossed over a lot of details, she could read between the lines. His six years in the military thus far hadn’t been a picnic.

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