Page 14 of Stray

“Oh my god, the oil! Jesus Christ, how has this car not just stopped on you?” I’m in complete disbelief. How? How can she not know about oil changes? “Didn’t your Dad teach you how to take care of a car?”

“No,” She states crisply. “I don’t have a dad. And this is my first car. I bought her online a couple of years ago.”

“How is this your first car?” How fucking old is she?

“Because I lived in bigger cities, cars were a nuisance. We got rides or walked.” I run my hands over my beard and nod.

“Alright,” I breathe out, suddenly feeling like I need to go over this car again before I let her back in. “Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, I need to go to town. Your father needs medicine and some other things.” I nod while wiping my hand on a rag.

“Come on then, I’ll take you in my truck.” Ozzy stiffens before shaking her head.

“Just give me the keys. I’ll go alone.” I laugh lightly.

“Not happening, Tink. No one drives my truck but me.” She huffs and looks up at the roof, but I stop her from speaking. “Carter ain’t got a vehicle currently, and Jensen’s is being worked on. You got me or your feet.” Is… oh for fucksake, she’s considering walking. I get ready to give her shit, but she finally walks over to me, grumbling the entire way. We walk to my Chevy, and I open the door for her to climb in. She stares at me, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, and a pensive look on her slim face.

“What’s the problem, Tink?” I ask while gesturing for her to get in. “I’m being nice.”

“Well, stop it. I can open my own door. I don’t need you standing behind me when I get in.” She snaps, and I hold my hands up.

“Fine,” Sighing, I round the front of the truck and get in the driver’s seat. Why is she pressing herself against the passenger door? “Is there a problem?” I ask as we take off.

“I don’t like other people in the car with me. It’s a rule I have.” She mutters while nervously twisting her fingers together.

“Well, I can promise you I’m an excellent driver.” She gives me a half snort and looks out the window.

“It has nothing to do with your driving. Think of it as being claustrophobic. I feel trapped in a tight space with no control.” She flinches and shakes her head before looking away as if she’s said more than she wanted to. What happened to this woman? I glance at her hands, firmly clasped together between her rapidly bouncing legs.

A flash of her bleeding from multiple cuts while carrying my dog in the storm last week comes into my mind, and I decide to extend an olive branch. Pulling off on the side of the road and throwing my truck in park, I watch as her body stills, and then she stiffens. She looks at me like a cornered wild animal. I raise both my hands up, trying to keep her calm.

“I ain’t going to do nothing, Tink, I’ll tell you what, how’s about you drive the truck?” I say as softly as my voice will allow. I know the look on her face. I’ve seen it on Jensen’s when his anxiety is too high. She’s on the verge of a panic attack. Her eyes are darting back and forth, chest heaving, and… she opens the passenger door and all but falls out of the cab, stumbling into the unruly weeds on the side of the road. I flinch when I hear her vomiting in the grass. Sighing, I get out of my seat and walk towards her, though I don’t dare crowd her for fear she might run. After she finishes, I grab a warm bottle of water in the back of my cab. “Better than nothing,” I shrug when she eyes the bottle.

I watch as she gargles and spits the liquid out before staring at me, her makeup running from the forced tears while she puked.

“Tink,” I don’t know how to ask the question. I don’t know if I want to know the answer. But I also know I can’t continue to trigger her. “Ozzy, I need you to throw me a bone here,” I say softly, earning a weary look.

“I don’t like men,” she says before sipping her water. “I don’t like being alone with men, I don’t like being touched, and I don’t like feeling powerless.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “I won’t touch you, and you are not powerless, not with me, alright? Do you want to drive the truck? Here.” I open my hand to show her the keys. “Take them.”

I watch her glare at the keys for a moment, and for a second, I think she’s going to run. But instead, she slowly reaches out and grabs my keys. I make sure her hand is completely free from mine before closing it. As she and I head back to the truck, her in the driver’s seat, I am reminded of her words when she lured Leroy out of the house.

“He was obviously scared and cornered. He was looking for someone that made him feel safe.”

Glancing at her as she maneuvers herself to look over the dash of my truck to see the road, I realize she might be looking for someone who will make her feel safe, too.

* * *

“Jackson!” I smile, hearing the familiar voice as the short, blonde woman walks up to me. Theodore Hitchers Jr., or Theo, is our sort of adopted baby sister. Originally from Texas, Theo has a meaner-than-shit attitude and a strong back. She’s tougher than most of the men I know, and she ain’t afraid of hard work.

“Theo,” I embrace her while waiting in line to get Pops’ prescription. “When did you get back?” Theo has been visiting her family in Texas for the past month.

“Yesterday, I was fixin’ to come back last week, but y’all got that nasty weather. Couldn’t get a plane to come near ya.” I nod and glance around, wondering what is taking Ozzy so long.

“How’s your brother and grandma?” Theo lets out the least ladylike snort.

“Gram is fine, still chasin’ after cowboys. I think she’s off to Montana next week for some rodeo out there. Bryce still hates me, says I’m full of sin and going to hell. I’m thinkin’ he’s mad because I get more pussy than him.” I bark out a laugh as I push the brim of her cap down.

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