Page 111 of Tormented
THIRTY-TWO
Sawyer
“We’re about an hour out,” I tell King as I sit on my parked bike and watch a mother wrestle her child into their car seat across the way. “Abbey needed another fuckin’ nature stop.”
King chuckles down the line “It’s a woman thing, man.”
“Nope,” I argue. “It’s all those goddamn energy drinks she lives off.”
The mother shuts the door of her car and takes a moment to suck in a deep breath before opening the driver door. Yeah, love. Don’t we all need to do that from time to time.
“Heard you took her on a field trip last night.”
“Vine works fast,” I muse. “Tuck never was able to keep his trap shut.”
“That guy has more secrets than even you could shake a stick at, brother. He just likes to look out for our girl as well.”
Our girl . . . .
Yeah, I didn’t like that either.
“Don’t you trust me to take care of her?” I growl, fingers turning white with the grip I have on the phone.
“You ain’t exactly got the smoothest track record there.”
“Thanks for throwin’ it back in my face.”
“Sawyer . . . .” King sighs. “Not about to start this fuckin’ conversation when you’re on the road, okay?”
Fair enough. I shouldn’t give him so much shit—he’s just trying to do what he thinks is best for me. Hell, when half the southern states were gunning for my ass he was one of the few that thought I deserved a second chance.
Right after he dumped you back in your father’s lap, knowing that meant you were as good as dead . . . .
Yeah, but I ain’t, am I. And besides, I deserved that.
“Tap shouldn’t be far behind by now,” King says, breaking the silence I created.
I cast my gaze across to the coffee shop in time to see Abbey walk out with a giant cup of some frothy fucking concoction in hand. Jesus. Does the woman ever eat anything real? She seems to function on a mix of high-sugar, high-caffeine drinks. Going to do something about that. No girl of mine is allowed to treat her temple that badly under my watch.
“Better go,” I tell King. “Li’l Miss Shy is on her way back to the truck.”
“Li’l Miss Daredevil, more like,” he says.
“We talkin’ about the same girl?” I muse. The Abbey I’ve seen these past few days has been caged, holding back.
“Oh, man,” King says with a laugh. “Have you given our girl a crush?”
“What?” So not ready to have this conversation yet. I’d planned on keeping things on the down low once we got back to Lincoln to keep my mind on task.
And to give her a chance to rethink what she says she wants out of me.
“If she’s gone quiet, man, she’s totally into you. Isn’t that how girls work?”
“Nope, scared of me more like.” I pucker up and give her an air kiss as she nears me.
The rise of her cheeks goes pink, her lips puckered around the straw she so diligently sucks on.
Could put that skill to use somewhere else . . . .