“See what I have to deal with?” Shane snapped, storming Ros’s way. They were once again close, but the desire that had burned so strongly moments ago had fizzled away.
Shane groaned, rubbing his forehead against Ros’s shoulder. “I’ll take you home. Or we can stop at a diner or… something.”
Ros stared into the darkness, still too shocked to move. “What a pervert! Is that normal?”
Shane shook his head. No. It’s definitely not normal. He’s a horny fuck who doesn’t understand boundaries.”
“What’s his name? Does he, like, have a crush on you?” Ros pushed himself into motion and climbed into the driver’s seat so they could be behind the gate and out of sight. At least the crazy encounter helped him to breathe again.
Shane harrumphed, fishing out his keys. “His name’s Jag, and I sure fucking hope he doesn’t like me that way. But if he ever fucking jerks off to my Ros, this shit will get personal!” Shane hollered on the way to the gate, but considering that he took his time to open the window, the words were meant for the intruder. Still, it warmed Rosen’s heart that he cared.
My Ros .
He did like the sound of that.
Shane sat behind the wheel once he locked the gate behind them, and grabbed Ros’s hand as soon as they were off. This might have been the worst night of Ros’s life, but having the support of this man, who not long ago had been a perfect stranger, made the burden of lies and death easier to carry. Maybe Shane was right and time would blur the bad memories, leaving Ros’s heart, if not clean, then at least light?
His mind drifted off as he watched darkness disperse in the headlights. Leaving Pete’s body behind allowed Ros to think about the future again.
“Do you want to live with Frank for the long haul?” Ros asked, stroking Shane with his thumb.
Shane licked his lips, but kept his eyes on the road. “Why?”
“Just wondering what your plan is. When I finish college, I’ll have to look for a place of my own, since I’ll want to come out, and then my dad won’t support me anymore.”
Ros’s skin went aflame when he realized how clingy this question was. He wasn’t even in his final year and had no reason to plan their future years in advance, yet here he was—suggesting that a guy he’d dated for only a handful of weeks moved in with him in the future. His throat felt blocked, but Shane spoke before Ros could have.
“What are you—”
Something large emerged from the darkness ahead and froze in the middle of the road as the headlights made its eyes shine with a golden hue.
“Look out!” Ross yelled, and Shane hit the brakes.
Chapter 9 – Shane
Shane flattened the brake, but as the truck came to a halt, jolting both him and Ros at the dashboard, the front of the vehicle still hit something.
He didn’t want to think about what it was.
Itching to pretend it never happened and just drive on, Shane stalled with his hands squeezing the steering wheel, but life had taught him that freezing in the face of danger meant pain, so he snapped out of it fast. He slid out of the cab, grabbing onto the open door when his head spun. The sickly glow of the headlights cast shadows on the murder scene, and he froze, thrust back into the moment that had changed his life forever.
Ed Beck speeding down an empty road, his brain sluggish with whisky, and the person foolishly stepping into his path. Had she tried to kill herself? Anyone would have seen or heard the approaching car in a place so remote, but for some inexplicable reason, the mom of three walked right under the wheels. He could see it now: her body flying up and rolling over the limo’s roof like a rag doll, Ed Beck freezing behind the wheel, only to choose the number of a man who dealt with career-ending situations like this one.
Shane’s breath became shallow. His skin beaded with sweat, and despite knowing whoever had been hit by the truck needed help, he couldn’t make himself take another step.
He barely registered that Ros had left the truck until the boy’s shadow licked the asphalt at the front of the vehicle.
“Oh God… You poor thing,” Ros cooed and stepped within Shane’s sight before going down to his knees. “He’s still alive, Shane! What’s a dog doing in the woods on its own?”
A part of Shane had feared that if he hurried to the front of the truck, he’d see the woman Beck had killed, the woman the court had decided he had killed. He still had her image at the back of his head, embellished over the years with details he couldn’t have noticed on that fateful night. The pattern on her T-shirt. The exact position of broken limbs. Dead eyes watching him in accusation despite the deep shadow cast on her face.