Page 70 of Truck Stop Titan

I dragged him to the back door. Tossed him off the deck, locked shit up tight, then got busy cleaning up the broken glass.

With a fucking smile on my face.

# # #

“What are you doing?”

I dropped the armful of empty boxes on the living room floor. “Helping you pack.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re moving.”

“Right. But. Stop. I can do this.”

“Jesus, woman. I’m here. Let me help. You’ve got a lot of shit to deal with. Movers are coming in two days. You need to find a place to live. Need to get your affairs in order. Let me do the heavy lifting here. Besides, I’ve got Mim to help. She looks like an excellent packer, don’t ya think?”

I lifted Mim’s arm and squeezed where her bicep muscle should be. “We’ve got this, right Little Lady?”

Mim nodded, biting back a smile, then slapped her hands on her aunt’s ass, pushing her toward the small office.

“Fine. Fine.” Hands to the air, Moriah surrendered, her eyes lighting up at Mim’s playful gesture. Before closing the door, she shouted, “There are stacks of newspaper in the garage if you need them.”

“We got this.”

Mim and I started on the living room, which didn’t take long. After ditching her ex, there wasn’t much left as far as decorative belongings. Fuck. I hated that guy.

By noon, the living room, extra bedroom, and the majority of the kitchen were reduced to stacks of boxes. Taped and labeled in Mim’s six-year-old handwriting.

Clearly the little lady had had some schooling in her short, turbulent life.

I ordered pizza for lunch. Paid the delivery guy, made Moriah come out to eat, then sent her off again to do her business.

Mim and I hit the back bedroom. I left her to the bookshelf and made my way into the bathroom to see what damage I could do in there.

I started with the pictures on the walls, then grabbed all but the necessities out of the drawers and off the shelves. When I reached for the trash can, making to empty the thing, I damn near choked on my own heart. Two fucking pregnancy tests stared up at me, like little fucking jokers, blaring the word PREGNANT.

I dropped my ass to the side of the tub.

No fucking way.

No goddamn fucking way.

Fuck my life.

No wonder she wanted me gone.

She was pregnant with her ex’s child. Her ex, who didn’t want a child.

That explained the daddy talk.

She’d been right to push me away. I wanted Moriah, no arguing that point, but I sure as hell wasn’t down with raising another man’s child. Not that I had a dislike for kids, so much, but the thought of raising one, of being responsible for their emotional well-being, scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t fit to be a dad. I’d fuck up a kid. Violence. Survival. Club life. That was all I knew. And why the fuck did she send Matthew away, take the job in Whisper Springs, if she knew she was pregnant? The man was a shithole, no question, but he had every right to know he was going to be a father.

I hated that guy even more than I had five minutes ago.

Moriah’s voice carried through the room. “Hey, Mim. I think we need a break. What do ya say we head to the park for a while? Where’s Dane?”

Shit. I moved to stand, my damn hip catching, and I fell back, my ass landing inside the tub, my legs dangling over the side.

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