Page 104 of Deacon

Teeth gritted, I gather up the bags, change into a sweater, boots, and jeans, and meet Aiden by his truck. He doesn’t help me in. Instead, he waits in the driver’s seat until I scramble up and slam the door.

I press against the wall, trying to make him forget I’m here. He rolls down the window an inch and lights a cigarette.

I don’t know why it disgusts me so much when Aiden smokes but not as much when Deacon does it. Maybe it’s because Bittern is dying of black lung. He should know better, but he’ll never pay for it the way Bittern will. Evil people like Aiden always live to be a hundred and five, probably dried to jerky from all their sins.

We get to the grocery store without speaking. Aiden says he’ll be back and peels out of the parking lot after giving me two hundred dollars. Grateful he’s gone, I take my time filling the cart with everything we’ll need for the week.

He’s outside, waiting with the engine on. For some reason, he helps me load the bags in the car. I don’t like that. I’m more comfortable when he’s mean. That’s normal.

My mouth is dry when I get in. He holds out his hand.

“Change,” he says.

I give him the ten dollars left over, and he pushes it into his pocket and puts the truck in gear. He pulls onto the road. I watch from the corner of my eye while the street lights flicker over his face. His jaw is flexed, one hand hanging over the steering wheel.

Just the way Deacon drives.

I shudder, not meaning to. He looks at me, eyes hidden by shadow.

“You cold or something?” he says.

“No, sir,” I say.

He makes a noise in his throat but doesn’t speak again. We head out onto the highway then turn off onto the state route when we see cop lights up ahead. It’s clear there’s some kind of accident. I lean forward as we turn away, frowning.

“Some of those fucking trucks can’t drive,” says Aiden.

I swallow past my dry throat. It seems like he wants me to answer.

“There was a semi jackknifed on the road during the storm in the same place,” I say. “Tracy told me, right when the rain started.”

His brows push together. “No, there wasn’t. I drove right through that part of the highway coming home. It was clear.”

I have to stay casual, but it hits me like a thunderclap that Deacon wasn’t entirely truthful that day. But I’m not surprised. He wants me, and he’s shown it through everything he’s said and done since that night.

“Oh, I might have misunderstood,” I say, keeping my voice quiet.

He flicks his attention back to the road. I sit there, fingers laced, and stare straight ahead. Why would Deacon have lied to me about the highway being shut down? Unless…he was just trying to get me home to Ryder Ranch?

I wouldn’t put it past him.

My heart thumps as I press against the door and let my temple rest on the window. When we get back, I’ll have to put the groceries away and clean up the kitchen again. I’m so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open. Then, I should get up early and see if Bittern will take me to see if Tracy will let me keep my job.

My eyelids flicker. I jerk my head up.

“What the fuck?”

I snap my eyes open. Aiden is leaning forward, eyes squinted. I follow his gaze, and my entire body tingles in fear.

There’s a man standing in the middle of the road. He’s got his back to us, but he’s not visibly armed.

“Stay in the truck,” says Aiden, taking a pistol out of the glove box.

He goes to open the door, but there’s a colossal crash that shakes the entire truck. I scream and slam back against the seat. Something fell onto the hood of the truck, crushing it. For a second, I think it’s an animal.

Then, I realize it’s a man, crouched, a hat on his head and a rifle over his shoulder. He turns his head, revealing a face half covered in a black bandana.

Oh God, I’m going to die. Or worse.

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