Page 114 of Truck Stop Titan

I sat next to her, checking over my shoulder. Dane trailed behind, his movements slow and careful, the scowl on his face more beautiful than ever. He now boasted two bullet wounds. One on his right thigh, a flesh wound, the other his left pectoral.

He was a walking miracle as far as I was concerned. The doctors had agreed.

Mim dug. Dane made his way to my side, hands in his pockets, brows furrowed.

The dirt was loose, and it didn’t take long for Mim to find her treasure. A small puzzle box. She brushed off the dirt, turned to sit on my lap, then handed the box to Dane.

I wrapped my arms around the sweaty little angel and rested my chin on her shoulder.

Dane lifted the lid. Dropped his head. Huffed. Quirked a brow at Mim, then lifted a rusty silver chain out of the box. At the end of the chain hung a heart-shaped locket and a key.

“Let me see that.” I swallowed the ball of emotion in my throat.

He passed the necklace over, and offered a hand to Mim, raising her off my lap and pulling her to stand at his side, holding her possessively against his leg.

“I gave my sister this locket when she graduated.” I never thought I’d see it again.

I popped the clasp, my heart swelling with nostalgia when I found the picture inside. Mickey and me, laughing. Probably at some bad joke Mom had told.

“I’m sorry,” came a soft, sweet voice. Pure innocence and beautiful bravery.

Dane and I locked gazes, and I couldn’t help the gasp that escaped. Mim curled into his thigh, burying her face as if ashamed.

“Sorry for what?” Dane asked, voice raspy, thick with emotion.

Mim turned to look at me. “I should have told him where I hid the necklace. Then he wouldn’t have hurt anybody.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I choked out. “None of that was your fault.”

Eyes filling with liquid, she blurted, “Mommy said I could never tell anyone about the key. She said I had to keep it safe. She said I couldn’t talk to grown-ups, ever, or they might find our treasure.”

“Treasure?” I wanted to reach for her, pull her close, but I feared I’d break into sobs and halt her confession.

“We found treasures every day.” Mim stretched her neck to meet Dane’s eyes. “Mommy put it in our box to keep safe. But then the bad man came.”

“Hammer was the bad man?” His name soured my tongue.

Mim nodded. “He used to be nice when he came to see Mommy. He used to be nice to her and give her money and other stuff to put in our treasure box.”

Puzzle pieces clicked into place. “Mim, did your mom hide the box from Hammer?”

Mim nodded again.

“Where did she hide the box?”

“At the storange fatuity,” she said the words with such confidence I bit my lip to stifle the laugh.

“The what?”

“The orange place.”

“Storage facility?” Dane asked.

“Yes.” She sighed as if irritated by our questions. “Hammer got mad. He hit Mommy a lot, and we tried to hide. The other bad man who worked at the orange place said he would keep us safe. He took us to his house and gave Mommy medicine. Then he put me in the hole. Mommy didn’t help me. Sometimes she cried on the floor and asked him to let me out. But he only let me out when he wanted to play. And Mommy was always asleep. She couldn’t hear me crying.”

Every word out of her mouth gouged my heart, and I couldn’t bear the stoic gaze on her face while she spoke of her abuse.

“Mim.” I pulled her into my arms and held her close, my own limbs trembling, my veins ice cold despite the summer heat.

---