Page 102 of Truck Stop Tempest

I had nothing left to do but wait.

I should have waited longer. My head was still fucked, lost to chaos, the adrenaline high. I should have stayed away. But I needed my girl.

The Stop was bustling. Alive with animated chatter, humming with energy.

I searched the room. A sticky-faced toddler occupied my usual table, finger painting the formica in shades of oatmeal and orange juice.

Margie threw a, “Morning, Tito,” over her shoulder as she passed, balancing three plates.

“Tuuli?” I asked.

“On her break.” She tilted her head toward the back.

I couldn’t get to her fast enough. Like some addict suffering withdrawals, I’d been edgy, and irritable, nauseous, and every muscle in my body ached, jonesing for my Tuuli fix.

Slade’s office was the first door I passed. Hand poised to knock, I paused when I heard muffled voices. Angry voices. Slade’s being the loudest. “Well, Dane doesn’t like you. Let me talk to him. I’ll make sure he keeps the Slayers out of town.”

Followed by a, “Fuck that shit. You’re not going anywhere near the psychopath.”

I backed away and headed for the break room, breathing deep, my nerves snapping like a million live wires. Through the half-open door, I had a straight shot of the view inside. All five-foot-nothing of my bunny leaned against the sink, raised on her toes to get a good look in the mirror. My head spun. Chest thumped. All the weight, all the goddamn darkness, all the mayhem spinning through my head faded, and I took a long overdue breath, a much-needed pause, and like a goddamn stalker, I watched from the shadows.

Tuuli studied her reflection, scrutinizing her red-rimmed, swollen eyes. Fuck. She’d been crying.

Did I cause those tears?

I sure as hell didn’t want to be the cause of her pain, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t acknowledge the morbid swell in my ego thinking that someone would cry over my sorry ass.

Her brows pinched. She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. Bit her lip. Cocked her hip. Tapped a message with her thumb.

My cell vibrated in my pocket. I stepped away from the door to read the screen.

Plz let me know UR ok.

I had ignored her calls and texts. Jackass move, but I couldn’t have an angel in my head when I had butchery on my mind.

Last night had been a cluster fuck.

Erik hadn’t been where Dane had said he would be. But we’d found something worse. Much worse. And where Dane had seemed to have no problem stomaching the scene we’d interrupted, I’d lost my fucking mind. Took three Slayers to pull me out of that cabin, but not before I’d fed one sick pedophile his own cock.

I looked down at my trembling hands. The swollen, gnarled knuckles. Ruined, sinful, dirty hands. Why were they shaking?

Dark images flashed through my mind. Children’s tears. Vacant stares. Hollow souls. Wrinkled, old eaters of innocence. So much skin.

I love you son. You love me, too, don’t you?

Darkness slithered, closing in. I couldn’t get swallowed again. I needed light.

I shoved into the room, greeted with a gasp. Her phone clattered in the sink. Everything numbed.

Stalking closer, I made sure I had her full attention.

My chest ached, stretched to its limit. Palms twitchy, throat dry. I breached her personal space, making it my own, and let the words loose, giving her my soul, whispering, “I need you. I’m broken, and I need you to fix me.” I swallowed her response with a kiss, stealing her beauty, her peace, cleansing my dirty spirit the only way I knew how.

Mouth to mouth, I walked her backward until there was nowhere to go, then slapped my palms to the wall above her head, pressing close, allowing no room for escape or pause.

The little bunny kissed me back, clawing my chest, curling her fingers around my neck, crawling up my body like a goddamn monkey, clinging with arms and legs. Feeding my soul with lips and moans. Washing away all the damn ugly.

Darkness loomed at my back while my beast roared for release. I tugged at Tuuli’s shirt, pulling it above her head, her arms rising with it, and I held her there, pinned against the cold brick wall, taking my fill.

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