Page 4 of Stowaway Whirlwind
When Davis turns to leave, I accidentally drop my gaze to his tight jeans that hug his—mighty fine—backside, a faded square permanently imprinted on his right pocket from his wallet. Pulling my eyes away with some effort, becausewow, I definitely shouldnotbe thinking about his or anyone otherman’s backside, I follow behind him through the store and over to the fast-food restaurant. He gathers the to-go bags that are sitting ready on the counter, then leads me out and across the parking lot with his hand resting on my lower back.
When we get to his white eighteen-wheeler withBerenson Truckingprinted in huge, red letters on the side, he opens the passenger door with ease and helps me up into the cab. It’s a miracle I was able to keep my balance to get into it the first time without his help.
Davis folds down a narrow, padded Murphy-style bed from the wall that I hadn’t noticed was there before, then folds down a plastic tabletop from the adjacent wall and sets our bags of food on top. He gestures for me to take a seat on the bed, and I scooch all the way to the side to make room for him. It’s strange sitting next to this man without questioning his motives, even though we’re sitting close enough for our thighs to touch.
“Dig in,” he says after passing me an extra-large ice water and napkins.
There’s so much to choose from, but I’m not picky, being as hungry as I am. So I grab the closest thing to me and attack the food. I barely taste anything as fast as I scarf it down, not sure when I’ll be able to eat again. I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that Davis is scarfing down twice as much as I am at twice the rate.Damn, the man can eat.
For fifteen minutes, the only sounds breaking the silence between us are the soft hums of appreciation and burger wrappers being balled up and tossed in one of the to-go bags. I eye a third burger, wondering if I can make it fit, even though I’m uncomfortably full, when Davis sits back against the wall and pats his belly with a satisfied sigh.
“So,” he hedges as I shove a salty french fry in my mouth. “I hate to ask this and am admittedly a little afraid of the answer, but…how old are you?”
I knew he was bound to ask, and I’m surprised he waited so long. “I’m nineteen. And before you ask, I can show you my I.D. to prove it.”
He blows out a breath and bobs his head. I watch him from the corner of my eye to see if he’ll screw up his face and think differently of me now that he knows I’m ateen mom.
“Ok, that’s good. Not that I’d kick you out when you need help, but transporting a minor across state lines could land me in some seriously hot water. So, why Dallas? You got someone waiting for you there?”
When my stomach protests at the thought of eating just one more fry, I wipe my hands on a napkin and scoot back on the bed to lean against the wall. “Yeah, my dad. I used to live with my Aunt Lydia in Nevada, but she passed away a few weeks ago, and I couldn’t afford to stay there on my own. Dad said I could live with him if I could make it to Dallas.”
Davis’s eyes turn dark, and he doesn’t look too happy with that answer, judging by the set of his jaw. It makes me nervous how drastically his expression changes, and I try to inch away from him, pressing my back into the corner where the bed meets the truck frame.
Davis
There’s that funny feeling in my chest and fingers again as I stare at Goldie, trying hard to keep my fury contained so I don’t scare her off with the intensity of my reaction. “He just left you to findyour own way? He’s ok with you hitchhiking alone across four states?”
“You don’t have to sound so judgmental about it,” she snaps. “Not everyone can afford to travel. And I’m nineteen. I don’t need someone holding my hand. Plus, you already know I can defend myself. I’d say I’ve done just fine on my own.”
“Nineteen and pregnant,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Yeah. So what?”
“You’renineteen and pregnant,” I stress. “Very pregnant. What would have happened if you hadn’t been able to grab that rapist’s gun?” I dial back the volume of my voice when she tries to lean further away from me. “He could have seriously hurt you and the baby.” The thought makes my insides churn. “Now, you tell me, what kind of asshole lets his pregnant teenage daughter hitchhike? Broke or not, that’s seriously fucked up.”
“You don’t know anything about him! He’s not an asshole just because he couldn’t afford to send me money for a plane or bus ticket!”
I ball my fists and snap my mouth closed, though I have plenty more to say about her dad. The food in my stomach turns sour, and I breathe deeply through my nose to hold the nausea at bay, thinking about what could have happened to her if her attempted rapist was able to overpower her because she was left to fend for herself.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called him an asshole,” I say with a softer tone,even though he deserves it. I busy myself with cleaning up our trash and putting the leftovers in the mini fridge under the tabletop. I hand Goldie her water since she hasn’t had enough, raising my brow until she takes a few sips, and then steer the conversation away from her dad. “What about your aunt? Didn’t she leave anything to you?”
“No, not that I expected her to. She was actually my dad’s aunt, so my great-aunt, and she didn’t…we didn’t…We got by, but that was it.”
“I’m sorry about your aunt.”
“Thanks,” she says, subtly wiping away tears I pretend not to notice.
After lifting the tabletop, I secure it to the wall, then prompt her to drink more water before storing it in the mini fridge and scooting back on the bed. We sit in silence for a few tense minutes, and when I’m in better control of my emotions, I ask Goldie, “What about”—I gesture to her belly—“the father? What’s he got to say about all this?”
“He wouldn’t care,” she says with a head shake and slump of her shoulders.
“I find that hard to believe. I know I’d—” I clamp my mouth shut.
“Well, believe it.”
I cock my head to the side when she doesn’t expand on her comment because there’s clearly more to her story.
She sighs dramatically before spouting off the rest in a rush. “Colton…he was my high school boyfriend. I thought we were gonna go all the way. Had our whole future planned out. I thought he was happy about the baby, but…”
