Deserted - Auctioned

OneDefinitely that guy.

Gray stuck some fries into his mouth and watched a man enter the gas station. Lunch consisted of fries and fried chicken, and Gray had opted to eat it outside. The sun was shining down on Georgia this early afternoon. The tailgate of the rented truck had been dropped to be a makeshift seat, and the men and women heading into the gas station’s convenience store the next lot over served as entertainment.

Because it was entertaining to Gray to estimate who he could probably kill with his bare hands.

He swung his legs lightly and dragged two fries through his ketchup.

His mind was, for the first time in ages, perfectly at ease.

The fried chicken was fucking delicious too.

Gray had driven out of Fort Lauderdale in the middle of the night. He’d left a sleeping Darius in the bed Gray had practically called theirs. He’d left notes for Mom and Darius. He’d grabbed his bag. He’d spoken one last time to Abel on the phone. And no, Gray’s best friend still couldn’t dissuade him from doing this. He’d made a promise.

He cocked his head and eyed another guy from behind the safety of his shades. That guy—no way. There wasn’t a chance Gray could take him. The dude probably weighed twice as much as he did, and his denim vest had a Confederate flag with two rifles crossing each other on the back.

Dare could take him.

Darius could take anyone.

Gray had to get stronger. He was so done feeling weak and pathetic. It dragged him down.

He shook his head and bit into his last piece of chicken. He would get stronger, goddammit. He’d given himself a pep talk about it all the way up the coast of Florida. Now wasn’t the time to ruin the peace in his mind.

The truth was, a sense of freedom had expanded his chest with each mile he’d put between himself and his family. He hadn’t seen that coming. He hadn’t anticipated feeling so relieved to be away from everyone.

Here at the side of the road somewhere north of Savannah, breaths came easier, and his heart wasn’t as heavy.

There was freedom in being nobody, in being just a face. No one would pass Gray and think of him as a victim.

A mother headed into the gas station next, and Gray jumped down from the tailgate and nodded to himself. He could take her too.

And her kid.Gray continued up I-95 for the next several hours. He drove in silence but with a window rolled down. He took deep breaths and practiced his concentration. Because as long as he focused on the insignificant things around him, the peace remained in his brain. His gaze was fixed in place. There was only straight ahead. There were only the passing cars and the lanes he shifted between. South Carolina was a wasteland. There was nothing to see, aside from the occasional truck stop. Burned rubber on the side of the interstate, trees, adopt-a-highway signs, and a merciless sun. That was it.

Inhale.

Exhale.

In through his nose, out through his mouth.

Traffic seemed to get heavier up ahead, so he switched lanes and drove past two trucks that reeked of diesel and one van—

Gray flinched and gnashed his teeth as panic tried to slash its way through him.

Mere weeks ago, he’d been inside one of those vans. Or several. He’d spent countless hours wondering if the people around him could even guess they were sharing the road with men and women who’d been kidnapped and forced into slavery.

What if there were people trapped inside that van right now?

Gray white-knuckled the wheel and sped up.

What was he gonna do, stop every van he saw?

In his darkest hours, he’d pleaded yes. He’d begged for humanity to be more suspicious.

He drew in a breath that settled painfully under the pressure in his chest.

To distract himself, he glanced at his phone in the center console well. He picked it up and checked the screen. The background picture had been taken before Isla and Jack had returned to Washington. She was ready to pop. In fact, Jack had taken her to the doctor before they flew home. Her belly was huge. As was her smile in the picture.

Gray knew he was lucky to have such a great family. His stepsister had wormed her way into his heart in the span of weeks after Mom and Aiden had met, and Isla had quickly become someone Gray gladly turned to for support and coffee dates. But all that was fucking ruined. Because Gray’s smile in the photo was fake, and he couldn’t pretend anymore. He wasn’t the same guy he’d been. He was nowhere near it.

There was no text from Willow, Darius’s little sister, so Gray dropped his phone again and kept driving.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He’d blocked all numbers in his contact list except for one. Willow was a new addition. He’d called her the other day, and he’d cursed his stupidity when there’d been no verbal response. He’d remembered a few seconds too late that Willow was nonverbal around strangers. He’d texted instead, and now she was his partner in crime. She was around his age and fantastic.