Page 91 of Truck Stop Titan

“No.” His chuckle made me shiver. “Room six is where they filmed the girls. Brokered their deals.”

“Jesus H Christ.” The videos playing in Wilson Kyle’s cabin came to mind, the memory of Mim in that dirt hole flooding me with unholy rage. “And?”

“Room six is where we’re taking them down.”

Thank fuck. “We ghosting them?

“No. Promised Tuuli and Aida, no more killing.”

“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time?” I needed to bloody some bastards, my nerves stretched beyond their limit. I reached for the door handle, stopped when Moretti slammed another blade in my lap.

“Trust me. By the time we’re finished, they’ll wish they were dead.”

# # #

“You need to start using the doorbell.” Moriah’s voice sliced through the dark, a little angry, a lot broken, and the sweetest damn sound to ever reach my ears.

When I sat beside her, she flipped on the mattress, offering her back and pulling the sheet up to her chin.

Couldn’t blame the woman. I deserved far more than the cold shoulder. And I’d take any verbal lashing she threw my way, as long as there was skin to skin involved. I slid under the soft sheet, and pulled her flush, settling that perfect ass against my groin.

“You need to leave, Dane.” Her command held little weight when she snuggled closer.

“Not leaving.” Nose buried in her damp hair, I took my fill of her piña colada scent. “I missed you.”

Her chest rose and fell. “Three days. Not one word from you.”

Because I was a chickenshit. “I know.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Fuck. I sucked at apologizing. “Had shit to do I couldn’t tell you about.”

“Illegal shit,” she mumbled into the darkness and wiggled away from my touch.

Feeling the sting of rejection, I rolled to my back and roughed a hand over my head, rubbing the dull ache. “I’ve never lied to you about who I am.”

“No, you haven’t, and I accept that, but this disappearing act? Not acceptable.”

Tension threatened to crack my chest, and damn if I’d let that fissure spread.I’m sorry, were the words she needed, and the very words I couldn’t form. Grasping for straws, I asked, “You mad at me?”

Pathetic, yes.

Too many seconds passed before Moriah spoke. “I don’t know. People keep warning me about you. What am I supposed to think? What am I getting myself into? I’m clueless here. We’re not even in a relationship, you know?”

“We’re not?” I asked, having no basis for argument.

Another long pause, then she whispered, “Are we?”

“I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

The mattress shifted, but I couldn’t look her way, afraid of what I’d find.

“And that constitutes being in a relationship?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said to the ceiling. “I can only give you what I have to offer.”

“And all you have to offer is being here.”

---