Текст книги "The Probability of Violet and Luke"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

“Nope. Not from you.” That remark gnaws at my chest and I open my mouth to mutter an apology, but he speaks first.

“Okay then.” Now he sounds like the wounded Bambi. “Well if you need anything, you can always call me. I’m always here.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, then press end. Deep down, I know that my life might be easier if I just let go of the stuff between my father and I, but it’s difficult, especially when I barely understand it.  I mean, I get why he left my mom, because he needed to find himself. Self-discovery. And he’s happy now with Trevor, his husband, at least it seems that way. I get the need to be happy, but why did he have to leave Amy and I behind? Couldn’t he have done all that with us?

“You okay?” Violet’s tone carries caution.

I nod, turning toward her, forcing myself to shake off what I’m feeling. “Yeah, I’m good… I’m going to try and call my uncle and see if I can go to Vegas and crash with him for a week.”

She lingers in the doorway. “You have an uncle that lives in Vegas?”

I nod. “But I barely know him. I’m just hoping he might do me a favor,” I say then dial his number.

After I call him up and have a five-minute conversation with him that mainly centers on gambling, he tells me, “Sure, come the fuck down here. We can totally hit up a few underground games and see what we can come up with.” He says it like he understands, which he probably does, since he’s a lot like me, only about fifteen years older. So I get up to go finish packing, while Violet stands in the doorway not uttering a word, but the worry in her eyes says a lot.

“What about school?” she finally asks as she shifts her weight.

My obsessive need tries to take me over, but I tell it to shut the fuck up. “I can miss a week. It’s not a big deal.” I add my container that carries the medicines for my diabetes into my bag.

“You always made it seem like a big deal,” she says, plopping down on the mattress beside my bag. “And trust me, if anyone gets that, I do.”

“I know you do,” I tell her, both loving and hating that we have so much in common; love because of how much I want to be with her and hate because of how much I want to be with her.

“Vegas is really far,” she says. “Can’t you do the gambling here?”

“No.” I keep my head tipped down, knowing if I look up and see her on the bed, I’m going to lose it and I need to focus right now. “I just need to get out and get some money made where no one knows my reputation. And I don’t want to be hanging out here with Seth and Greyson, while I’m cleaning up this mess. This is my mess not theirs.” I pick up my bag from the floor and swing it over my shoulder. “And it’s the only option I have at the moment.”

She bites at her fingernail, clearly nervous. “For how long?”

I shrug, getting a couple of painkillers from the dresser and swallowing them down with my spit. If they don’t kick in soon, I’m going to be in some serious pain. “For as long as it takes.”

“But isn’t that a little risky? I mean, you could lose your money and do you really want to be messing around with stuff like that in Vegas. Aren’t things like really intense down there?”

“Every where’s intense when you really think about it. And it’s the only option I have at the moment. And besides, my uncle knows what he’s doing.”

She’s quiet as I go over to my closet to grab my jacket. I hear her phone go off in her pocket again and when I turn around, she’s chewing on her bottom lip with uncertainty written all over her face as she reads the message.

Shaking her head, she stuffs the phone into her pocket. “Want some company? I mean on the road or whatever.” She gives a nonchalant shrug, indifferent on the outside, but I can tell she’s hiding something on the inside.

“You want to come on the road with me? Seriously?” Something really bad must be going on if she’s choosing to be around me.

There’s so much fear and pain in her eyes that I want to grab her, hug her, and never let her go. The look is a total change from when she was on the ledge of the building and she looked high. I thought she was for a moment, but I think it might have been some sort of weird adrenaline rush.  “I could use the break.” She shrugs and I wonder who texted her a few minutes ago and it if has anything to do with her sudden okayness to be near me. I’m guessing it was Preston and he’s angry that she just lost one of his clients. Fucking prick. He probably threatened her.

“I thought you hated missing class?” Excluding the riskiness of her going, I’m still reluctant. It’s like I can’t get past the fact that it doesn’t really seem like she necessarily wants to go with me, so much as she wants to escape something. And the idea of being on the road with her, sleeping under the same roof, when she really doesn’t want to be with me, doesn’t seem like something I can handle without losing it. And I can’t lose it right now—I need to pull my act together and get some cash made quickly.

She presses her lips together and abruptly gets up. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t even know why I’m asking.” She hurries for the door, but I catch her arm and stop her.

“I’m just wondering why you want to go with me after,” I motion between the two of us, trying to find the right words, “everything that’s happened over the last couple of months.”

“I need an escape too. I can’t… I don’t…” She huffs in frustration, finally making eye contact with me and it’s overwhelming to the point that my legs almost buckle. “Look, if you don’t want me to go with you then you don’t have to let me.”

I want to ask her what she needs to escape from, but she’s closed off and I know her well enough that she’s not going to tell me, not now anyway. “I want you to go,” I say, my grip loosening on her arm. “But I also don’t want you to get even further into this mess.”

“This mess is a lot better than my alternative,” she mutters under her breath. “Trust me.”

“Violet, I…” I trail off, realizing that I can press her all I want, but she’s not going to open up to me like she used to. I can almost see the wall around her, the one she had before we were together. Only it’s twenty times thicker and sturdier this time. “Come with me…. I want you to.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” she says nonchalantly, but a glimmer of that I-won attitude flashes through it and gives me a brief glimpse of the Violet that made me want to change everything about myself—try to be a good person.

“Okay then,” I say and it feels like we’ve made some sort of silent agreement in our exchange, but I haven’t read the fine print yet. “Are you ready to go? No, you’ll probably need to stop by… your place, right? I mean, for clothes and stuff.” I’m rambling, nervous, like a fucking pussy who’s never spent time with a woman before.

“I guess so,” she says flatly. “I mean, yeah. I need to go… to the house to get my stuff.”

I frown, feeling rage inside my chest hotter than a goddamn wildfire as I pick up on a vibe she’s trying to keep hidden. “Is there something going on with that fucking douche bag... he hasn’t… he hasn’t hit you or anything? Because I’ll beat the shit out of him if he has.”

“No we’re fine—everything’s fine.” She slips her arm from my hand. “Let’s go if we’re going to do this. I’ll call Greyson on the way and see if he can cover my shifts at the diner.” She cringes as if the idea makes her uncomfortable.

I sigh and follow after her as she walks out of my bedroom, knowing I’m making a huge mess and should try to be fixing it. But I can’t find the will to stop it so I walk straight into the train wreck.

Violet

I’m in deep shit. I knew this even before I got the text from Preston. The text just confirmed it.

Preston: Just got a text from Roy. Dammit Violet, you’re going to fucking pay for making me lose a client like this. And it’s going to be worse than the last time. I swear to fucking God, you’re going to owe me for the rest of your life.

The text replays in my head over and over again as I try to get the courage to get out of the truck and go into the trailer house to get my stuff. I don’t want to be a coward, but I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve been “paying” for my fuck ups for the last two months, the bruises on my leg marking my payment and my penitence.

It’s sundown, the stars are out, the porch light of the trailer house is on. There’s a party going on, cars lining the driveway, people standing out on the deck and loitering in the yard. It’ll make it easier to slip in unnoticed, but worse if Preston runs into me. He’ll probably be high on something and less controllable.

“I’m going to go in with you,” Luke tells me, shutting off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt.

I want to argue with him, because I don’t want to rely on him like that, but dammit I need someone right now, so I nod then get out of the truck. When we meet at the front, I don’t move away from him, letting his nearness calm me down. I’m not stupid. I know this is all going to come crashing down on me soon, especially when we’re on the road and all the unspoken stuff between us comes pouring out. But right now I just want to pretend he makes me feel safe again, that I didn’t run away, didn’t mess everything up—that his mother didn’t help kill my parents.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I squeeze between the drunk and stoned people blocking our path, and come to a halt in front of the screen door. Preston is in the living room, talking animatedly to his pothead friends with a joint in his hand. There’s music playing from the stereo and empty liquor bottles all over the kitchen countertops.

“Maybe I should go in by myself,” I say to Luke, but they’re just words that have no true meaning behind them.

He doesn’t say anything, taking my hand in his, he opens the screen door, and we walk into the house. Preston doesn’t look in our direction at first, engulfed in a conversation, but when I steer Luke through the crowd to the hallway, he notices me. He gives me a dark look mixed with lust that makes vomit burn at the back of my throat. Then he notices Luke and the lust turns to anger.

“What the fuck’s going on?” he asks and suddenly the entire room is looking at us. Smoke encircles around me, a potent snake that stings at my nostrils and smells like weed, sweat, and various different alcohols.

I’m not one to shy away, but I’m more tense than usual, a reaction linked to the reason why there are bruises covering my leg. “I came to get my stuff.” Surprisingly, however, my voice sounds strong.

Preston lets out a laugh, handing the joint to a tall, lanky guy beside him before crossing the room toward me, shoving people out of his way who look about as dazed and confused as they can get. “What? You’re moving out again?” His cold glare lands on Luke. “With this asshole?” Preston doesn’t like Luke considering Luke kicked his ass once.

“I don’t know if I’m moving out yet,” I say as Luke’s fingers wander up my wrist, gently stroking my skin, sending a calmness through my body I’ve never felt before. “But I need a break from you and all this crap.” I raise my chin, voice strong, despite my inner jitteriness. I’ve always been good at faking it when needed. I can be calm in the snap of a finger even when I’m not. Pretend I don’t care when I really do. Act like I don’t feel a goddamn thing for someone, when really I feel everything for them.

Preston’s right in front of me now and I can see that look in his eyes again, the one that came before the bruises that are on my legs. “You’re making a big mistake.” His voice is low and carries a warning, just like it always does when he’s threatening me.

I should have fought more.

Should have bruised the shit out of him.

Should have. Could have. Would have.

“I just need a break,” I repeat. Stay firm.

“A break from what? Having a roof over your head? Food on your plate? A ride?” He pauses, his gaze flicking in Luke’s direction, then he leans down in my face, so close I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Or being a little whore that you are ever single day. You fucking cunt. You use me to live her—use your little fucking mouth and body to get what you want.”

Luke’s hand is suddenly leaving my arm and he roughly shoves Preston back, causing him to stumble over his feet and almost fall. “Back the fuck off,” he warns. “Or I’m going to make you.”

I can take care of this. I don’t need you, I want to say, but I can barely breathe, let alone speak. Everyone is looking at me to, in the midst of my weakness, about to have a meltdown. I need something. I need something…

“Bend over,” Preston said, pushing me toward the bed. “Come of V, bend over and take it like you want to.”

“What I want to do is knee you in the balls, Preston,” I said back. “And if you touch me again, I just might—”

He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled hard. “And what?” Another tug, but I refuse to wince. Show pain. I am a fucking calm before the storm. I am untouchable. No one can hurt me. “Come on tough girl, let me hear all the terrible things you’re going to do to me.”

I wanted to tell him everything, how much of an ass he was being, to get his hands off me, to go fuck himself, but then I remembered how the last time I did, he made me move out and how this time I wouldn’t have Luke to save my sorry ass. So instead I force myself to relax as he shoved me down on my knees, which end up slamming into the side of the bed. Then he walked around in front of me, shoving me back a little and unzipped his pants…

“I’m l-leaving for a week or so,” I stammer then dodge around Preston, loathing how unsteady I feel, wobbly, like I’m walking a tightrope, about to fall blindly into the unknown.

“You leave and I’m not taking you back this time!” he calls out after me, anger burning in his tone and slamming into my back. “You need me Violet Hayes! I’m all you got anymore!”

“Fuck you!” I snap venomously, turning and flipping him the bird. “I hate it here and I fucking hate you.” Shit. Oh God. Oh shit. No.

“You ungrateful little bitch,” he seethes, storming after me, his veins bulging, more angry than I’ve ever seen him, which makes me wonder how hard he’s going to hit me if he gets close enough, but I never get to find out because Luke shoves him back again and Preston slams into the wall, stunned.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” Luke warns as he follows me through the crowd with his fists raised. “She’s way better off not being here—she deserves better—and you’re going to let her go or else I’m going to have to make you let her go you sick son of a bitch.”

Preston gives a sharp laugh and there’s something almost psychopathic about it, so uncontrolled, so irrational. I know what’s coming before he even says it. “You think she’s better than me.” He laughs again, his voice following me as I rush toward the hall. “You want to know why I call her a whore? Ask her how she pays her debt to me and she can try to tell you that she doesn’t like it, but by the moaning I can tell that she does.”

I cover my ears and run back to the room, not wanting to see or hear Luke’s reaction to what Preston tells him next, not wanting to feel the shame on the inside. When I get to the room, I head for the closet to get my bag, but then realize that Luke may not want me to come with him, now that Preston’s let that cat out of the bag.

“Fucking douche,” I curse under my breath as I stand in the darkness of the room, unsure what to do. I want to grab a razor and slit my wrists, but am I ready to go that far?

Finally, I sit down on the floor, bring my legs to my chest, and rest my head on my knees. “Why, why, why, can’t I ever stand up to him? I’m a badass to everyone else, but to him, I’m so weak.”

“It’s not your fault.” The sound of Luke’s voice makes me stiffen. Great, he heard me in a weak moment. So weak. “He abuses his power as a parent and makes you feel helpless.”

I smash my lips together and lift my head to look up at him. He’s just a shadow in the darkness, unreadable and I shove my emotions down, wanting to be unreadable too. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“Yes,” he says simply, inching across the room toward me. “My mother abused her power a lot.”

It’s something that’s haunted me since the day I walked out of the apartment—walked away from him. Luke hated his mom, something I learned early on when I first met him. He’d told me a few vague stories about how she’s made him shoot her up with heroin. I’m sure that was barely getting to the surface of the problems that woman caused and part of me had felt bad for blaming him for something she did. It wasn’t Luke’s fault my parents are dead, but he painfully reminded me of what happened—still does.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go with you,” I say heavy-heartedly. “It probably wasn’t such a good idea in the first place… you and...” I shake the thought out of my head, because I want it too much.  It’s better if I don’t go, although, I don’t really have anywhere to live anymore unless I’m willing to sacrifice my dignity and more.

He pauses, then he backs up to the light switch and flips it on. I blink against the brightness of the light as he searches my face for something—I have no idea what—then he says, “No, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m going to leave you here.” He glances over his shoulder at the door. “With him. It’s not healthy, the way he treats you, and looks at you.” His gaze collides with mine and a flicker of safeness rises inside me, but it only makes me ache more. “You need to stay away from him, Violet. You deserve better than that.” His lips drop to my mouth, but it happens so quickly my brain can barely register it before he’s speaking again. “Much, much better.”

I want to argue with him, not just about what he said but about how bad it is for me to go with him. Luke and I have yet to even begin to confront the major thing that tore us apart two months ago, so taking off without dealing with that seems like such an impulsive, potentially disastrous thing to do. But I’d rather deal with Luke then deal with Preston anymore. Living with him has been a nightmare and I need to breathe without feeling like my lungs are crushing me, if only for a moment. So I get up and pack my stuff, knowing that I’m only running away from my problems and avoiding the ones in front of me. And eventually I know it’s all going to crash down on me.

It always does.

Chapter 6

Luke

We leave Violet’s house with a little more confrontation from Preston, but I can tell the guy is a total pussy, backing down when I challenge him because he knows I can beat his ass. He makes me sick, how he treats her, uses her lack of family as a weapon against her. It’s like an obsession—a sick obsession like my mother has with controlling me.

But I try not to think about that as we drive out of town and onto the highway. It’s late, the moon bright in the sky as we head in the direction of Vegas, which is about a twelve-hour drive from Laramie. Violet is by my side, sitting quietly. Well, sitting in the same truck as me since she’s managed to put as much distance between us as possible, leaning up against the passenger door. Space. There seems like so much of it between us, even though I could reach over and touch her.

For a while, I think she’s fallen asleep, her head resting against the window, her weight leaning against the door, her chest rising up and down as she breathes softly. I’m reaching for the stereo to turn on some music, when she abruptly sits up, looking very much awake.

“So what exactly did he say to you?” she asks, turning toward me and bringing her leg up onto the seat.

I return my hand to the steering wheel. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Actually, I am, but I don’t want to talk about it… don’t even want to think about it.

“Preston.” Her voice is flat—emotionless—like when I first met her and it kills me on the inside hearing it again. “In the living room, when I walked away, did he tell you what I’ve been doing for the last two months while I was staying with him?” She’s trying to remain indifferent, but her voice cracks at the end, revealing how much it hurts her and makes me want to hurt Preston more than anything.

“I don’t care what he said,” I say, gripping the steering wheel tightly as I attempt to focus on the road instead of the anger burning inside me. “I only care what you say.” I pause, waiting for her to tell me. It’s not like it was a new revelation. I’d seen them kissing in the parking lot earlier today, but still, it feels like there’s so much more to it, or maybe that’s just me being stupid and naïve, something I never thought of myself as before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

God, she’s so hard to read when she’s this closed off. “Do you want to talk about anything at all?” Like the big old stinking elephant sitting between us, taking up most of the room in the truck. Are we ready to go there yet?

She considers what I said, her eyes wandering upward toward the night sky. “Do you still have that sex tape in here?”

What the hell? “Sex tape… I’ve never made a sex tape.” That’s a lie. I did once when I was eighteen and there was this girl who was really into some kinky shit. But Violet shouldn’t know about that nor do I want her to.

Her gaze lands on me, but it’s too dark to see her expression. “You’re totally lying to me right now—you’ve made one.”  Her tone is light, curious. “You know, I’d like to say that I’m surprised but I’m not.”

I relax a little as her playfulness emerges. “Okay, I’m trying to decide whether I should be offended by that or not. Like you think I’m some kind of man-whore.” Which I am—was. Not anymore though.

“You don’t need to be offended,” she promises with a hint of amusement in her voice. “Besides, I’m sure it was an excellent tape.”

God, what I would give to see the expression on her face as she sits back in the seat, tucking her legs under her, her thighs barely covered as her dress rides up and makes me want to slide over and finish what we started back in Geraldson’s bathroom.

Now is not the time to get a hard on.

“And besides, I wasn’t talking about an actual sex tape,” Violet continues. “But that music tape I found in here once that was labeled fuck me or something like that.”

Hearing her say fuck me makes my dick go rock hard. But there’s no trust between us anymore, no basis for her to want me to touch her, no nothing except my longing to get through her impenetrable wall so all it’s going to get me is a severe case of blue balls.

I try to discretely adjust myself. “Oh, I think it’s still under the seat from…” From when you were with me and we were in this very truck, heading out on our very first date. My chest tightens, air constricting, and all I want to do is drink until I can no longer feel my body.

Violet leans forward, lowering her head toward the floor as she reaches under the seat. She rummages around until she finds the tape. “Yep, right were you threw it.” She sits up and reads the label. “My Fuck Tape.” She turns it over in her hand, a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s funny you actually have tapes. Hardly anyone knows what they are anymore.”

“The truck came with a tape player and I’m too cheap to put a new stereo in,” I explain. “Maybe one day though, I’ll change it out.”

She shakes her head as she feeds the tape into the deck. “Don’t. It gives the truck character.” She presses play then sits back, waiting for the song to come on. For the life of me, I can’t remember what the hell’s on there.

Seconds later, I cringe as the first song thumps through the speakers. Violet instantly suppresses her laughter as she covers her mouth with her hand. She stays that way, listening to the lyrics until finally she lowers her hand. “So… is that what you call your special man part?” she asks, choking back her laughter as she slaps her hand over her mouth again.

I shake my head at her and playfully reach over and give her a little shove, knowing I’m being flirty right now, but hey, she started it. “Even if I did have a name for my cock, trust me it’d be a lot better than that.”

She continues laugh, her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she uses her free arm to shove me back. “I can’t believe you’ve had sex to this song.”

“Hey, I never said I had sex with anyone to this,” I protest, even though I have no clue if that’s true. I’m trying not to grin, because I never thought this would be happening again, things being so light between us and I don’t want to get all excited when I know it’s going to crash down at any moment. “And they’re not all bad. Some are actually pretty good.” I reach forward and fast forward to the next song. Nine Inch Nails “Closer” comes on and I let it play, relaxing.

She lowers her hand to her lap and absorbs the lyrics silently. I’m guessing if she wasn’t so good at shielding her emotions, she’d probably be blushing, but it’s not her style. I remember when she told me she was a virgin, back before I took her virginity. She said it so bluntly, so unashamed, that I ended up spitting my drink out on the floor in surprise. The only time I’ve ever seen her show her raw emotions was the one and only time we had sex. It was the first time I didn’t try to hold any emotion back too, which made the moment perfect until a few hours later when everything fell apart. Another time, another place, where I wish I could have stay, because for a moment everything was perfect, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Okay, this one’s not so bad,” Violet remarks as she lets her head fall back against the seat, her lips part, she’s so relaxed. “In fact, I could see how having sex to this could be good.”

God, what I would give to have sex with her right now. Right here. To this very song.

I could act on it, but I don’t, trying to be the decent guy she was turning me into a couple of months ago. The one who took better care of himself, who didn’t drink so much, who wasn’t so angry.

As I struggle to keep my horniness to myself for the next hour, this weird sexual tension builds between us as she insists on going through the entire tape. Deftones “Change” Nickelback’s, “Something in Your Mouth,” “Addicted” by Saving Abel, the list of songs goes on and on, getting hotter and sexier with each one. It reminds me more and more of the one and only time Violet and I had sex. God, I want her again. Seriously, who’s idea was this? It’s getting so hot in the cab of the truck I crack the window, pretending it’s because I’m going to smoke, when really it’s to cool the hell down, otherwise I’m going to end up having an orgasm while I’m driving.

I’m saturating my lungs with nicotine when finally Violet slides forward on the seat to turn the music down. “You have a really dirty mind, Luke Price. Seriously. Where did you find all those songs?”

I shrug. “I was bored one day, so I made the tape. Took a while, but I was pretty proud of it.”

Her eyes glide to me and twinkle mischievously in the moonlight shining through the windows. “How many times have you had sex while the tape was playing?”

I squirm uncomfortably in the seat as I ash the cigarette out the window. “I feel a little uncomfortable talking to you about this,” I admit.

“Well, it’s a lot easier than talking about all the things we aren’t talking about don’t you think?” She sighs tiredly as she slumps back in the seat.

“We could talk…” I take a long inhale off my cigarette and gradually let it out, smoke circling my face. “If you want to.”

She tenses as she shakes her head and stares out the window to the side of her. “I’m not ready to just yet.” she says quietly. “I want to play make believe for just a little bit longer.”

God, I’ve never felt my heart shatter for someone else more than I have at this moment. I want to pull the truck over, wrap my arms around her, and just hold her. But that’s not really what she’s asking me to do, is it?

So instead I eject the tape and toss it up onto the dash. “You know I have three more of these in the glovebox.”

A smile touches her lips as she sits up and gets the tapes out, going back to playing make believe, pretending that everything is okay, when it’s not.

Violet

I fall asleep sometime around two o’clock in the morning and crash right into my nightmares. The one where I’m in the basement, hiding, listening to the sounds of what I think are fireworks but turn out to be my parent’s deaths. The nightmare has changed over the last two months into something I don’t like.

Luke.

He’s the one who comes into the basement that night, just a boy my age, but he’s not there to hurt anyone. He wants to help me—always wanting to help me.

“Take my hand,” he says as he stands in the middle of the basement, looking right at me hiding in the corner, surrounded by boxes and toys. I don’t understand how he can see me or how he can tell that I’m afraid, but he can. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you—I’ll protect you.”

I shake my head, not daring to move. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he encourages, stepping toward me. “It’s going to be okay.”

“But I’m too scared,” I whisper in horror as sounds fill the house, one’s of pain and destruction.

He kneels down in front of me, his hand still extended out. “She scares me too, but if there’s two of us, maybe things won’t be so scary.”

I hesitate, then finally place my hand in his, crawling out of the corner. There’s a moment where I feel safe as he holds onto my hand, but then I hear the bang. I jerk back, my fingers slipping out of his and the safeness slips from my body as he’s pulled away from me. Stolen by his mother as she starts to sing that stupid song, the one that ruined my life.

* * *

My eyelids snap open as I suck in a large breath of air, fighting my lungs to keep breathing, my body to keep thriving, my mind to stay intact as I grasp into the edge of the seat.

“Violet, breathe,” Luke says from beside me. The truck has stopped moving and the sun is up in the bright blue sky, so I can see the worry on his face. He opens his arms to lean in and hug me, but I can’t let him right now, not when the feelings from the nightmare still linger under my skin.

“I’m okay,” I say in a hoarse voice, leaning back against the door and catching my breath. “I was just having a nightmare.”