Page 69 of Truck Stop Titan

“This house was my mother’s. You only helped me get the hounds off our backs when the medical bills started coming in. And you know what? Fuck you. Yes, I said it. Fuck you! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you and your fancy, ass-kissing, social-climbing dinners with a bunch of uptight assholes in their pretentious suits with their arm candy wives. Not one of them ever gave a shit that my mother was dying in the hospital. Not one of them ever asked how I was doing, dealing with that nightmare. I didn’t want friends like that. I never asked for anything from you. Not once. Except for a place to land when I was falling, and fuck you for not giving me that. Fuck me for being stupid enough to think that one day you’d give me that.”

Moriah moved closer to Matthew, her ire vibrating the air.

He swallowed. Tilted his head. “I love you, Moe.”

“You love my tits. You love my pretty face, and you love that when we were out together, everybody fawned over what a pretty girlfriend you had, and what a lovely couple we were. You loved that your boss and my father were best friends, and that helped you climb the ladder. You loved that you didn’t have to work at our relationship, that it was easy, that I never questioned anything.”

“You loved me too. How can you just throw that away?”

“I was comfortable.”

Matthew cleared his throat. “Give me another chance, Moe. I can get you your job back.”

Silence.

A shit-ton of turbulent, ugly silence.

“How did you know I lost my job, Matthew?”

That fucking slime bag piece of shit. My body coiled tighter than a valve spring.

Moriah’s chest expanded. She released a slow breath.

“Matthew. How did you know?”

“Moe.”

A hard slam.

“You got me fired?” Glass shattered. Once, twice. “You got me fired. You thought I’d give up Mim if I didn’t have a job to come home to. You thought I’d let her go if I didn’t have the means to support her.”

Dickface cleared his throat. “You need to understand.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

I came around the corner because that girl needed to know somebody had her back.

“Well, Matthew. Guess what?” Moriah marched into the living room, then returned, digging through her handbag and coming up with her cell. She thumbed the screen, put the phone to her ear, and waited.

“Hi. This is Moriah Peterson. “Yes. Yes. Thank you. I would love to take the job. Next week? Yes. Absolutely. I know. I’d have been crazy to turn it down. I’ll see you then.”

Her phone landed on the counter. Then that little firecracker stood toe-to-toe with the douchebag and pointed in his face. “I got a job all on my own.”

My gut dropped to my feet. Oh, fuck. What job?

My world seemed to spin out of control, until she continued, “In Whisper Springs.”

Swear to Christ my heart stopped beating, then started up again, triple time.

“You can have this house. I’ll have my realtor contact you with the terms of the sale.”

Head held high, Moriah shoved past me and headed down the hall. A door slammed, vibrating the walls.

Gloating would’ve been bad form in the current situation. Also, it would’ve made me look pathetic. So instead, I grabbed Matthew by the collar and shoved his back against the wall. “You’ll pay double what she’s asking for this house, or all the dirt I’ve dug up on you will go public and you’ll spend the next fifty years taking it up the ass in a six-by-eight cell. Got me?”

The cocky fucker finally met my glare. “I don’t want this house.”

“Yes. You do. Trust me. You do.”