Page 115 of Truck Stop Titan

I looked to Dane for help because I wasn’t sure how to navigate the conversation, to protect her from revisiting those horrors.

Eyes red-rimmed, cheeks blazing, he cleared his throat, wiping moisture from his face with the back of his arm. “Why did you bury the necklace, Little One? Don’t you want to wear it?”

“Rocky said we should bury it because I couldn’t say goodbye to my mom,” she mumbled into my hair, her arms cinched around my neck. “He helped me have a funeral.”

“Oh, baby.” I kissed her cheek. “I think we should bury it again. Don’t you?”

Mim pulled away from me, searching my face. “Would my mom like that?”

“She would.”

Arms coiling, she burrowed her face in my hair. Dane slipped the key off the chain and tucked it in his pocket. He then handed the box to me. I laid it in the hole. Mim shoveled the dirt, burying her necklace once again.

Then Dane tugged a knife out of his back pocket and lowered to his knees. He winced, but valiantly hid the pain from Mim. Then that big, beautiful, beast of a man carved a cross into the trunk of the tree. Below the cross, he carved a heart with my sister’s initials.

“How’s that?” he asked, tapping Mim under the chin. She smiled. He smiled. And the world seemed right again.

With a grunt, he rose to full height and tugged on my little angel’s braid. “I love your voice, Little One.”

That beautiful, brave girl kissed his thigh, and with the sweetest utterance I’d ever heard said, “I love you, Dane.”

Voice gruff, more grizzly bear than man, Dane responded with, “I love you, too.”

That exchange already had me in tears, but when she tossed a smile my way and blurted, “And I love you, Auntie MoMo,” I lost my composure and sobbed.

“I love you, too, baby girl. So, so much.”

Dane shot me a wink, then tapped Mim on the head. “I’m getting sleepy. Need to lay down. Maybe you can read to me?”

She took off running. “I’ll go pick the book!”

Dane grabbed my hand. Snorted. “Auntie MoMo?”

“Fuckyeah.” I laughed, swiping at my face.

He slapped my ass and chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

Dane

“THERE’S MY GIRL.”I sighed, struck dumb by the sight of her.

“You’re back,” Moriah said, breathy and so God damn sweet.

Fuck, she was beautiful, standing in the hallway. Hair down, my Ride or Die T-shirt falling off her left shoulder. Those bare fucking feet.

Two weeks had been too damn long to be away from those ladies who owned my heart.

“I’m back.” My keys hit the floor. My bag followed suit.

She leaned against the wall, glass of wine in one hand, a book in the other. “Successful trip?”

Off with the boots. “We got her. She’s with Lettie right now.”

“It went well?”

Better than I’d expected. And what do ya know? Those child-pimping bastards had put up a fight and had to be taken down. Two broken noses, one snapped clavicle,three stab wounds, and one torched van later, they were left for the cops to find, along with enough evidence to put them away for thirty years minimum. “Smooth as silk.”

Moriah leaned her head against the wall and lifted the glass to her lips, those sleepy eyes assessing and heavy with worry.

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