around at the expanse of road they occupied as they approached the on-ramp. “Do you ever hit anything?”
“I try not to, but let me tell you, it’s usually some other asshole who pushes me into it.” Mitch grimaced at the taillights of the SUV as it zipped onto the ramp. “As somebody who has personally put 250,000 miles on the U.S. Interstates in the past five years alone, I’m here to tell you, if the road belongs to anybody, it’s the big rigs, bringing everybody their big-screen TVs and cheap toilet paper and produce off the boat from Brazil. Not to mention the damn cars people drive recklessly, trying to get us all killed.” He let his shoulders relax. “Sorry. Trucker’s soapbox. I’ll do my best to keep it to a minimum.”
Sam said nothing, only watched as Mitch put the rig onto westbound I-80. Sam paid attention to the way Mitch merged, using his mirrors, downshifting and pacing himself to make his way into the traffic safely. There weren’t many vehicles on the road, but the one car in the right-hand lane didn’t get over when Mitch approached, not until Mitch was almost on top of him, and when the guy finally moved, he also honked and tossed Mitch his middle finger.
“Not if you were the last guy on earth, buddy.” Mitch shifted gears a few more times and settled into his seat, glancing at Sam. “So.”
Sam fought the urge to wriggle uncomfortably. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Mitch shrugged. “Sure, but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“You’ll bring me along, just like that?”
“Yep.” Mitch kept his eyes on the road.
Sam considered this. There had to be a catch. “I don’t have money. A little, but not—”
Mitch held up a hand. “I don’t want your money, Sunshine.”
Sam studied Mitch’s profile for a few minutes, trying to read him. He looked good, backlit by his dashboard. Sam realized it was just the two of them, so close, and it would be this way the whole time. They’d be together all day, and all night.
Heat spread through Sam’s body, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “I won’t mind paying…other ways.”
To his surprise, Mitch didn’t give him a wicked grin and a dose of innuendo. Instead, his hands tensed on the wheel. “You don’t have to pay me anything.”
Now Sam was embarrassed. “Sorry.” He turned his face away to stare out the passenger window.
Mitch sighed, a ragged sound. “Sam—” He shifted in his seat. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s my fault.” Sam tucked his feet up so he could hug his knees to his chest. “I’m just…edgy. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I feel pretty stupid.”
“You aren’t stupid. If you left, it wasn’t for anything but a good reason.”
Sam buried his face in the valley of his knees. “I couldn’t stand to hear about how depraved I am anymore.”
“This your aunt?”
“I live with her and my uncle. I have since I was fifteen, when my mom got sick. She had cancer. Pancreatic cancer.” He picked at a loose string at the seam of his shoes. “She had multiple sclerosis too. It started when I was little, and it was bad by the time I was ten. She was evening out, working to keep herself strong, and we were going to be okay. Then, boom. Cancer.” He pulled the string until it broke. “She was gone.”
Mitch let the silence hang a minute. “You been with your aunt and uncle since?” Sam nodded. “But you’re an adult now—surely you could move out?”
“I don’t have any money. I can’t get loans for school, and it takes years to earn enough on my own before I can get them. It’s a tax thing. My uncle claimed me because they were my legal guardians for a year. That’s all it took. With my mom alive just one more year, I’d have qualified for every need-based scholarship available. Under Uncle Norm’s income, I qualify for nothing. So they pay, but not much, and only part-time. Which is why it takes forever.”
“But you
“I try not to, but let me tell you, it’s usually some other asshole who pushes me into it.” Mitch grimaced at the taillights of the SUV as it zipped onto the ramp. “As somebody who has personally put 250,000 miles on the U.S. Interstates in the past five years alone, I’m here to tell you, if the road belongs to anybody, it’s the big rigs, bringing everybody their big-screen TVs and cheap toilet paper and produce off the boat from Brazil. Not to mention the damn cars people drive recklessly, trying to get us all killed.” He let his shoulders relax. “Sorry. Trucker’s soapbox. I’ll do my best to keep it to a minimum.”
Sam said nothing, only watched as Mitch put the rig onto westbound I-80. Sam paid attention to the way Mitch merged, using his mirrors, downshifting and pacing himself to make his way into the traffic safely. There weren’t many vehicles on the road, but the one car in the right-hand lane didn’t get over when Mitch approached, not until Mitch was almost on top of him, and when the guy finally moved, he also honked and tossed Mitch his middle finger.
“Not if you were the last guy on earth, buddy.” Mitch shifted gears a few more times and settled into his seat, glancing at Sam. “So.”
Sam fought the urge to wriggle uncomfortably. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Mitch shrugged. “Sure, but you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“You’ll bring me along, just like that?”
“Yep.” Mitch kept his eyes on the road.
Sam considered this. There had to be a catch. “I don’t have money. A little, but not—”
Mitch held up a hand. “I don’t want your money, Sunshine.”
Sam studied Mitch’s profile for a few minutes, trying to read him. He looked good, backlit by his dashboard. Sam realized it was just the two of them, so close, and it would be this way the whole time. They’d be together all day, and all night.
Heat spread through Sam’s body, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “I won’t mind paying…other ways.”
To his surprise, Mitch didn’t give him a wicked grin and a dose of innuendo. Instead, his hands tensed on the wheel. “You don’t have to pay me anything.”
Now Sam was embarrassed. “Sorry.” He turned his face away to stare out the passenger window.
Mitch sighed, a ragged sound. “Sam—” He shifted in his seat. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s my fault.” Sam tucked his feet up so he could hug his knees to his chest. “I’m just…edgy. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I feel pretty stupid.”
“You aren’t stupid. If you left, it wasn’t for anything but a good reason.”
Sam buried his face in the valley of his knees. “I couldn’t stand to hear about how depraved I am anymore.”
“This your aunt?”
“I live with her and my uncle. I have since I was fifteen, when my mom got sick. She had cancer. Pancreatic cancer.” He picked at a loose string at the seam of his shoes. “She had multiple sclerosis too. It started when I was little, and it was bad by the time I was ten. She was evening out, working to keep herself strong, and we were going to be okay. Then, boom. Cancer.” He pulled the string until it broke. “She was gone.”
Mitch let the silence hang a minute. “You been with your aunt and uncle since?” Sam nodded. “But you’re an adult now—surely you could move out?”
“I don’t have any money. I can’t get loans for school, and it takes years to earn enough on my own before I can get them. It’s a tax thing. My uncle claimed me because they were my legal guardians for a year. That’s all it took. With my mom alive just one more year, I’d have qualified for every need-based scholarship available. Under Uncle Norm’s income, I qualify for nothing. So they pay, but not much, and only part-time. Which is why it takes forever.”
“But you
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