Page 6 of His Gentle Omega
“It doesn’t?” His voice was so tiny and shaking it nearly broke my heart. Heat burned behind my lids, and I was helpless to stop the tears from welling.
Shoving the used tissue into the box, I gave him a tiny smile, careful of my lip. “Nope. I’m okay, and so are you. We’re going to be okay.” If I said it enough it might eventually be true.
“Where are we?” Lucas looked around, peering out of the little side window of the truck cab.
Turning to face forward, I glanced over at the auto repair shop across from us. There was new signage, and the front window looked like it had been replaced, the glass shining and clear. But the bones of the building were still the same, and my heart did a little weird thump.
“This used to be your grandpa’s shop,” I told him, my voice catching on some feeling I couldn’t put a name to. The pain in my chest flared brightly for a few seconds, before settling into a dull ache. It had been much too long since I had been here, and I hadn’t been prepared for the emotional pain seeing this building would cause. “My dad, Tristan. He would have loved you a whole bunch.”
My dad had died years before Lucas had been born, but I knew even if he had been alive, it was doubtful he would have even known who Lucas was. Edward wouldn’t have allowed it.
Lucas looked around at the shop, and the row of cars that were waiting for various things to be done to them in the parking area. “He fixed cars?”
“He did.” And so had I, a lifetime ago. Why did thirty feel so old? “I grew up inthat building.”
Some of my first memories were visiting my dad at his shop. Of him letting me hand him tools when he worked on a car, even before I knew the proper name for each one or what they were used for. He never complained, just kept letting me hand him random tools until I finally handed him the one he needed. The man had endless patience that again, I hadn’t fully appreciated until it was too late. “That sign used to say Pierce and Sons.”
Though my brother had never had any interest in cars, other than an appreciation of fast, pretty ones. Asher had his heart set on being a doctor from a young age, a surgeon, and Dad had made sure he never put Asher’s hands at risk. It made me wonder why he had gone into pediatrics, instead of surgery.
Hopefully, I would get the chance to ask him. Asher had every right to be pissed at me. To not help me.
Fatigue and pain dulled my senses, the adrenaline that had fueled me earlier disappearing like a poof of smoke. My body ached, and I felt like I could sleep for a week. I couldn’t remember ever being so tired. It was more than a tiredness of my body though. No, this was an exhaustion that extended into my soul.
Putting the truck in gear, I drove to a nearby gas station, thankful not much had changed in this area of the city since I’d last wandered these streets. Reaching into my duffle, I pulled out the envelope Albert had insisted I take. Quickly I counted the bills I found inside, then counted again, sure my foggy brain had added wrong. Nope, it was still five hundred dollars. With the hundred I had managed to scrape together, we had a better start than I had thought we would. That, plus the truck, should get us to where we were going.
A small ray of hope filled me, and for the first time, I truly believed we might have a real chance of making it to safety. Making it to my brother, where I would get down on my kneesand beg for his forgiveness if that was what it would take. I just needed Lucas to be safe. If that meant spilling all my secrets to my brother, so be it. If he never forgave me, I could live with that. As long as he helped Lucas.
Shuffling Lucas into the bright lights of the gas station, I hurried him to the restrooms. We had about 1700 miles to go, give or take. With a six-year-old, and as banged up as I was, I was guessing it would take us more than a few days to get there. Knowing there would be plenty of bathroom breaks and stopping to stretch our legs. I was hoping to not have to use any of the money on a hotel room, but the way I was feeling it was a possibility I needed to prepare for.
“I don’t have to pee,” Lucas whined, as I washed my hands at the sink and peered at myself in the mirror. The harsh fluorescent lights didn’t make my face look any better than it had earlier.
“Just try, please.” Coughing into my fist, I bent double at the pain the act caused my bruised ribs. I really wanted to lift my shirt up and take another look, but Lucas was scared enough and didn’t need to see the bruises that had already started forming. My eye that was nearly swollen shut was already turning black and looked gross and ugly.
Pushing my blond hair off my forehead, I saw a small knot swelling at my temple. No doubt another well placed kick from Edward’s expensive shoes. I had no recollection of it, so it had probably happened while I was unconscious. Edward was great at kicking me when I was down.
Fucking hell, I looked like I’d been in a barroom brawl.
Tugging the collar of my T-shirt away from my skin, I could just make out the beginnings of fingerlike bruises starting toform on my neck and throat. My eyes fell on the scar from my mate bite, and anger surged in me.
I had been so stupid. So fucking infatuated with Edward’s shiny brightness. Pulling the shirt back up, I ignored the bruises and that damn infernal mark.
Lucas flushed the toilet, fiddled with his pajama pants–somehow turning them sideways when he pulled them up–then came to wash his hands. Fixing his pants, I helped him clean his hands, giving him a small smile to reassure him.
“Are you going to take some more medicine?” He nibbled his lower lip and shuffled his feet, the movement causing his shoes to light up with blues and reds. No doubt he was afraid I would pass out like I had earlier after swallowing the liquid cough medicine.
“Nope, I need to drive us. We’re going to top off the gas tank, and I need to see if they have a map. And I need coffee.” Ruffling his messy hair, I added, “And we can’t have a road trip without snacks, can we?”
It would be cheaper to stop at the 24-hour Walmart a few blocks over, but the more miles we put between us, Dallas, and Edward and his family, the better off we would be.
“What’s a road trip?” Lucas asked curiously.
Taking his small hand, I led him out of the bathroom and down the snack aisle. “It’s where you drive really far, and you eat lots of junk food.”
It probably wasn’t my finest hour as a parent to bribe my kid with junk food, but we were about to be stuck in a vehicle for a long time. Needs must and all that.
One of my favorite memories growing up was when my dad would announce we were going on a road trip. He’d load me and Asher up in our car, along with a fuck ton of snacks, and we’dhit the road. Sometimes we just drove down random country roads, or all over the city, before ending up back at home at the end of the day. It hadn’t mattered where we were going. Just that we were together, having fun. Talking about random stuff, singing to the songs on the radio at the top of our lungs. Making memories.
Grabbing beef jerky, even though I really wasn’t hungry, a bag of chips, a bottle of ibuprofen, some chocolate and gummies for Lucas, I headed over to the self-serve coffee. Pouring two cups, I awkwardly made my way to the counter with our haul.
