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Authors: Victoria H Smith

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BOOK: Brody
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She sat curtly on the edge of the bed, checking for springiness when she bounced on her heels, and the entire image peaked in cuteness. I handed her the blankets and she took them.

“Bathroom is in there.” I pointed to the right at the door separating the back from the front of the rig. “It isn’t much. More like a port-a-potty with a sink to wash your face and brush your teeth, but it is clean, I assure you. I got a spare toothbrush in there, too. It’s unopened and there’s soap in the cabinet above the sink.”

She nodded. Her eyes flashed away and she smoothed her hands across the bedding I gave her. I got to see another one of those smiles when she did.

Brown eyes looked up at me from under dark eyelashes. A smile touched there with their soft creases, too. “Thanks, Brody. For everything.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Alexa

 

His sheets smelled like him; masculine with that something sweet.

I pushed my cheek softly against the pillow, my nose, then my lips lightly next. Is this what it felt like to be close to him? The comfort and ease of him...

I waited about an hour sleeping in his sheets, wrapped up in the scent of him. I told myself it was because I needed to be sure. I needed to be sure Brody had settled in for the night up front and that sleep had taken him so I could sneak away. I’d waited too long already and I had to go. I knew the real reason I’d stayed rested against his pillow was the same reason I didn’t leave his truck in the first place, though.

I liked that Brody wanted me to stay here tonight. I liked being in his bed, which in itself was just incredibly stupid. He was most definitely one of two things. One, a pervert like most men I found myself around lately, or two, had a wife; a pretty one who was real nice and the two had made an even more perfect child between them. The latter made more sense.

I turned my face away from the pillow, mentally kicking myself for my thoughts of him. I couldn’t put him on some type of pedestal because he helped me. My guard still had to be up. I couldn’t afford for it not to be.

I pushed his bedding down, checking my watch.

Past time to go.

I never undressed into the spare t-shirt I had or washed up for bed like Brody said I could. Being fully dressed, all I had to do was slip my boots back on and grab my bag. I did so quietly. I couldn’t wake him up.

When I stood to my feet, the tied curtain ahead worried me. Brody said it creaked on the bar above. I had to take the chance.

Untying, being careful, I slipped through the drawn curtains, bending my body easily like a choreographed move.

I wouldn’t let my thoughts linger on the fluidity of that move or that it
had
been rehearsed to be that easy at one time in my life. I got to the truck’s door. I didn’t want to look back at Brody, but I had to for a visual so I could escape unseen.

He sat in his chair, large body curled up in such a small space. He was quite large, big. I’d probably mistake him for a laborer, a man who worked with his hands all day if I didn’t know he was a truck driver. I assumed he was asleep. He had his head leaned back against the window, the bill of his cap pulled down over his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest.

I reached for the handle and pulled, and with only a click, the large door opened with ease. The internal truck light that came on wasn’t bright but I needed to extinguish it quickly.

I was out and into the parking lot within seconds with the truck door closed behind me. Once I was out, I didn’t look back. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. I had no time.

The truck stop felt cold in its emptiness. A woman inside swept and looked up when I opened the door. She had messy blonde hair and seemed tired with the light bags under her eyes. It was late.

I approached her. “Do you have a pay phone?”

Her gaze went back to the floor, her hands sweeping. “In the back. Near the bathrooms.”

My heart jolted at the location. What happened tonight was still too fresh. I pushed past the feeling, heading back there. I was actually willing to sleep at this truck stop, on a public bench when I knew better than sleeping around strangers, just to have access to a phone. I could get over being near the bathrooms for a few seconds. I had to.

The pay phone hung on the wall where she said. I pulled the receiver down to my ear, listening for a dial tone while I wrestled with my bag for a few quarters. I didn’t hear anything on the other end of the phone and my stomach dropped, my heart thudding.

In a panic, I flicked at the metal piece on the box, trying to prompt a dial tone. I did so several times before I tugged the phone from my ear. When I did, the telephone cord pulled out of the phone box completely.

My heart sunk even more.

I slammed the phone back onto the box, the tears of frustration watering my eyes.

They fell as I leaned on the phone box, my body defeated and spent. All the things I’d done,
made
myself do, and I couldn’t even call…

My eyes blinked down more tears and I caught my reflection on the box’s silver plating. Red rimmed eyes stared back at me. I had cried so much tonight. I’d been crying a lot lately, nightly. Leaving California had been nothing but a mistake. I knew that now. I was paying for it every day.

Why had I been so selfish?

I thought what I was doing was for the best, that I was doing right by creating an opportunity. It was one that wasn’t just for me, and look how that turned out?

I shook my head, pushing my fingers underneath my eyes. The black mascara that coated my fingertips disgusted me, how it hid me and made me something I wasn’t.

Rubbing my arm across my lips, red lipstick smeared on my dark skin. The girl in the reflection could have tarnished the metal with her broken image.

I gazed away from her, charging off. The lady who swept met my eyes first. She was behind the pay counter now, leaning on it. I approached her, a clear shake wavering my body.

“The phone back there is broken.” I didn’t mean for the snap in my voice, but the frustrations weighing down my life made me erupt. My anger only blazed more when the woman looked up, eyeing me briefly before casting me off.

She grabbed her cellphone off the counter, clicking on it. “You asked where the phone was. Not if it worked.”

My jaw clenched hard, but seeing the woman with the one thing I needed kept me sane, calm. I swallowed to make sure my voice came out right for the request.

“Can I use yours?” I asked her.

She gazed up again, but again made it only brief before going back to her phone. “I ain’t no pay phone, doll.”

“You can use mine, baby.”

Chills covered my skin at the words. I didn’t recognize the voice, but the tone… The suggestion of it… I recognized all too well.

I turned on my heel slowly, hesitantly. A man stared at me holding a case of beer. He was older than me, but not by too much. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. He had dark skin like mine and the way he appraised my body wasn’t lost on me.

He reached into his pocket, drawing out a black phone, and I could only stare at it, then back at him. I was fully clothed, but this man’s gaze blazed a nakedness over me. It was like I knew what he was thinking about and envisioning. This man wasn’t just presenting his phone. No way he was. What was fucked up was I knew how I looked. Mascara runny, lipstick smeared. Despite that he wanted me anyway. He wanted to…

I forced myself to give him a smile, no matter how his suggestive gaze made me feel.

Casually, I turned back to the woman. “Can you send out a text for me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, he just said you could use his phone.”

I curled my fingers on the counter, my eyes watering again. I didn’t do it on purpose. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. “Please.”

She finally gave me her full attention, looked into my eyes, and suddenly she didn’t seem so distant, cold.

She rose up. “What do you want it to say?”

Breathing in, I gave a small internal prayer of thanks. “Not much. Just that this is Alex and I’m unable to talk tonight, but I’ll call tomorrow at the scheduled time. I swear I will.”

I wanted to say more. I wanted to say so many things more. The words this woman was allowing me were limited, though. I knew that.

“Number?” she asked.

I told her quietly. I didn’t want the man behind me to know. I stood there, watching until I knew she sent the message. I faced the man and he looked insulted like he wanted to say something or
do
something. I breezed away from him before he could, not looking back. He still had to pay for his beers. That bought me time to get back.

Get back to Brody.

I headed to the truck quickly, silent. The ease I felt as I got closer, didn’t make sense to me. But the moment, I opened the door, slipped back in, and closed it behind me, I understood. That guy inside the truck stop made me feel naked, violated, but with this truck’s door closed behind me, I no longer felt that way.

I stepped up the stairs.

Brody’s mouth had parted, his broad chest moving up and down as he rested.

Biting my lip, I held in a smile. I maneuvered my way around the truck’s seat and made it into the small bathroom Brody made a big deal about keeping up on earlier tonight.

I touched the mirror above the sink, studying the reflection of the girl in front of me. Bright hair and heavy make up attracted that man to me. That had been the point. That was always the point.

Slipping my hand into my hair, I tugged, pulling the wig off, the illusion.

I think I wanted to wash up now.

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Brody

 

Damn. I should
not
be staring at this girl right now. I lied to Alex. I did. I told her the curtain that divided the back from the front of the truck creaked on the hooks. Truth was they didn’t make a peep when they moved. I fibbed a little so she’d stay and I’d readily admit that if she asked me about it—and apologize for the initial lie of course. I knew she’d be safe here and I couldn’t trust she’d be okay if she chose to leave. Despite the fact she said she’d stayed in the truck last night, I was still a little paranoid that she would be gone when I woke up. The thought had me up early today, my body aching as I unfolded myself from my chair. This body and that tiny seat didn’t mix well when it came to sleeping, but I would do it again for the girl in the back of my truck, the one sleeping in my bed, the one I checked on now through a crack of the curtain to make sure she’d stayed and was okay…

Damn. I
really
shouldn’t be staring at her right now.

The urge to do the appropriate thing, close the curtain and walk away after now verifying her well-being, poked at my brain. I couldn’t make myself do that, though. Close the curtain and walk away.

She had short hair, not long, but damn if that look wasn’t more becoming than girls I’d seen with the longest hair. It swept just a little bit over her closed eyes, reaching her lashes but nothing more, and not every girl could pull the shortness off. I had seen something similar only on actress, Halle Berry, and Alex… she rocked it something crazy. The length let me see her face more and exposed it in new ways to me. She must have washed her make up off before she went to sleep; her full lips looking so soft. The girl didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, not an ounce, and my earlier thought that she didn’t need it rang true. I idly wished she’d open her eyes so I could see the whole package of the girl I wanted to shield; stare upon those eyes I wanted to keep fear out of. I didn’t understand the need for the heavy make up or the wig I could now see as a few of the magenta strands of it peaked from inside her sparkly bag on the floor. I needed to know more about this mysterious girl I was riding with. So much more.

My phone buzzed in my jacket and I realized I couldn’t take the chance of waking her up. If she saw I looked in on her, she might run, misunderstanding why I checked in.

After tying the curtain closed, I left my truck to take the call. The name on my phone had me sighing before I picked up.

“Hey, Gram,” I said, trying to sound cheerful, happy that she called.

There was silence before she spoke. “Brody, you sound funny. Are you not happy I called?”

Never could fool my grandma. I pushed my hand behind my neck, rubbing at the tension. “Of course I’m happy, Gram. What’s up? You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. Fine. You on the road, sweetie pie?”

Nah, but I should have been now that I thought about it. I’d gotten up on time to head out and meet my deadline for my delivery. I had a drop off and pick up at one of my company’s locations a couple hundred miles away. I hesitated leaving first thing because I wanted Alexa to be able to sleep. She looked so exhausted last night. I wanted to have breakfast with her this morning, settle down, and get to know her, but I supposed it was too late for that now.

I headed toward the truck stop, opting to get her coffee and doughnuts instead.

“I’m about to be,” I told Gram on the way. “I just woke up not too long ago. I got a deadline to make on some parts that need delivering before I cross the state line home.”

The line went eerily silent. I knew exactly why, but I didn’t dare break it. Gram hated me on the road and that I took this job.

“Brody, I don’t like you traveling for work.”

I lifted my eyes to the heavens. I called that one. Opening the doughnut case, I grabbed a couple of cream-filled doughnuts and a cake one with sprinkles. I wondered if Alex liked those.

“It’s not safe. You could get robbed or something.”

“I haven’t yet, Gram,” I told her, selecting more doughnuts with tissue paper. “And you know I can handle my own.”

Not only did I grow up in a house full of men, one in which all of us boys were rowdy as hell, but I’d been in a bar fight or two. I blamed that on my stupid days. All of which occurred in my late teens and early twenties. It was back when I thought the girls I met in bars were worth fighting over. I was twenty-five now and didn’t have time for that shit. In more dangerous situations, I had my firearm. Gram knew that. Fuck, she showed me how to use it. My pop could shoot like the best of them, but my gram, she knew a gun like the back of her hand. She had to. It was just she and my Aunt Robin living out on a small ranch by themselves. My grand pop died a few years back and since then, it’d been only the two of them out there besides the ranch hands.

BOOK: Brody
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