Page 99 of Truck Stop Titan

“Oh. No.” I paused for a breath, the force of his glare knocking the wind clean out of my lungs. I should’ve heeded the warning bells, cut and run, but the desire to know more about Mickey kept my butt firmly planted. “My sister disappeared years ago. I didn’t know anything about her, until Mim was found.”

My answer seemed to appease the man at my side, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t know Mick real well. What I do remember is that she wore this necklace—a heavy, steel chain. Not sure what was hanging off the thing, a heart, or a key, maybe.” He huffed. Shook his head. “Played with that thing all the damn time. Rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger like it was a lucky charm or something.”

The bulky man stretched his arms across the back of the park bench, his left hand brushing my shoulder before hooking on the wood behind me. A good six inches separated us, but personal space was obviously not his concern.

“You know anything about that necklace?” he asked, although his question sounded more like a threat.

“No.”

“Hmm.” His bloodshot eyes narrowed, focused on my lips, then dropped to my chest. “You and Dane fucking?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said to my boobs.

I shoved my book into my handbag.

Hammer’s calloused hand curled around my neck, weighing me down. “Take it easy.” He scooted closer, bridging that small gap between us, the scent of nicotine making my eyes water, my stomach churn. “Answer my question.”

“That’s none of your business.”

Those fingers tightened in warning. “Dane’s a Slayer. Everything he does is my business. That fucker ain’t answering my calls. I figure the only reason he ain’t answering is ’cause he’s balls deep in some sweet pussy. Got his brain scrambled.” He leaned closer still, burying his nose in my neck and taking a deep inhale. “I think you know where I can find him.”

“I don’t,” came my breathless reply.

I wanted to ask how Hammer had foundme, but what did it matter? He’d found me. He wouldn’t hurt me in public. And we couldn’t be any more public than the city beach on a hot summer afternoon. “I don’t know where he lives. He’s very private.”

Hammer hooked his arm around my neck and pulled me close, his forehead touching mine, like we were lovers sharing a secret. “I find out you’re lying, that little girl’s gonna pay.” He pressed his lips to my hair. “When you see that trailer trash piece of shit, tell him he better return my calls.” He laid his free hand on my thigh, then slid under my skirt, his thumb stretching, threatening to breach my panties. “Oh. And if he is fucking you. That means you’re his property. That makes you Slayer property. That means, one of these days, I might get a crack at those sweet lips.”

He let me go, and I jumped to my feet, clutching my bag. Before I could scramble away, he grabbed my hand, a wicked smile cracking his weathered face. “What? No kiss goodbye?”

I swung. His head whipped back, dodging my strike, but my hand was free. Without looking back, I headed toward two of the city’s bicycle patrol officers near the parking lot, my pulse beating a painful rhythm.

A large engine roared to life. I slowed my pace, like I was making to talk to the men in uniform. Hammer rolled past on his chrome beast, waving goodbye, then merged into the lazy summer traffic.

My stomach heaved, and I lost my lunch to an innocent cluster of azalea bushes.

# # #

“You’re not eating,” Dane growled at me from across the table, the low rumble of his voice carrying a hint of frustration, but mostly concern.

“Feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.”

“Gotta get something down, gorgeous.”

Mim scraped the last of her fruit salad out of the bowl, slurped it off her spoon, then wiggled off her chair, and carried her dishes to the sink.

I’d never asked her to clear her own spot at the table, yet somewhere along the way, she’d learned. Maybe my sister hadn’t been too far gone. Maybe Mim had learned from Lettie. Either way, I was grateful, and in awe of that kid.

I couldn’t take my eyes off that sweet little angel, and Dane didn’t take his eyes off me. When Mim skipped to her bedroom, I acknowledged his questioning glare.

“I’m fine. Really.”

He stared, waiting for the truth.

“Okay. Okay. Jeez. I’m not fine. I’m… I’m…” What was I? Scared? Angry? I slumped in my chair, twirled my fork around my plate. “Let me ask you something.”

He shifted, wiped his mouth, then balled his napkin before dropping it on his plate, and giving me his full attention. “Anything.”

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