Page 105 of Truck Stop Tempest

“GET UP.” A BLACKpainted toenail dug into my ribs.

“Nah, I’m good.” My words slurred, the right side of my face numb and uncooperative. I could always count on Aida for a good fist-to-face therapy session. Princess had a deadly left hook and a knack for knocking demons loose.

I stretched on my back, the training mat a perfect cushion to lay my head and lick my wounds.

Aida stood over me, ignoring my glare, then planted a bare foot on my chest. “So, you confess to killing a priest, but when Tuuli asks if you murdered that Carver fucker, you get butt-hurt and put a hole through the wall?”

“Something like that.”

“Fucking idiot.” She made a tsk sound, cocking her head. “Have you talked to her yet?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Good question. “It’s better this way.”

“Oh, grow a pair, will ya?” She dug her heel into my chest, shaking me. “Stop being a whiny bitch.”

“Get off me,” I growled, shoving at her shin.

“No.” The pressure on my torso increased.

“Princess. I’m not in the mood.”

“Don’t care.”

Aida knew damn well I could take her down with a flick of my wrist, but she pushed anyway, confident, and rightly so, that I’d never do a fucking thing to hurt her.

“Go to her now and make things right.” She slid her foot to my throat and slowly shifted her weight, a reminder that she could end my life were she so inclined.

“You two about done?” Tucker’s deep voice boomed through the room. “Mom and Dad will be here soon.”

Lucia squealed in her papa’s arms, bouncing and pumping her fists when she spied her mother.

I almost laughed at the sight of Tucker and the baby. He wore khaki utility shorts and a faded Toby Keith concert tee. Lucia donned beige leggings with the same damn shirt as her pops but in mini size. Both of them wore baseball caps with the Slade Trucking logo on the front.

Aida dropped low, her knees bracing my shoulders, her full ass resting on my gut, then gripped my chin and pinched hard, cutting me down with her cold, hard death stare. “She loves you, Tits. She’s no stranger to violence and death. Tell her who you are.” She fell forward, dropped a kiss on my forehead, and hopped to her feet. “Give her a chance to decide if she can live with your past or not.”

It was the not that scared the shit out of me. I stared at the ceiling, fighting a shiver.

What if the church girl couldn’t live with a reaper?

I poked at the sore spot on my lip, rolled to my stomach, and pushed to hands and knees.

Tucker surrendered the baby to Aida, kissed them both, and watched with a dumbass smile on his face as they disappeared down the hall.

He turned to me, wearing a judgmental glare. “You look like shit. And I don’t mean the bruises on your face.”

I huffed. “Been a rough couple of nights.”

“I know.” Hands to hips, he dropped his head. “You need to go home. Get some sleep. Get your head on straight.”

My head was fucking fine. My heart? An entirely different story.

I snagged my shoes and car keys off the floor.

“Tito…”

---