Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DOM
Easy to kill.
It's four in the morning when I pull into the truck stop parking lot. The place is mostly empty with a few semis scattered around, their drivers either sleeping in the attached motel or passed out in their cabs. No cameras pointing toward the back lot. I checked yesterday.
Gary's truck is parked in the far corner, same spot as always. The cab is dark and he's inside.
Roxy's asleep in the back of the van, curled up under the blankets with her sketchbook tucked against her chest. I can hear her breathing, soft and even. She doesn't need to be awake for this part.
I sit for a moment, letting my eyes adjust. The cassette player is playing low, Kate Bush, Running Up That Hill. All eerie and whimsical, it makes me think of Roxy. I’m slowly starting to enjoy her interesting taste in music.
I grab the knife from under the driver's seat, the same one I used on Carl. A fixed blade, six inches, sharp enough to split skin like paper, I tuck it into my waistband. Then I step out into the cold desert air.
The lot is silent except for the hum of idling engines and the distant sound of the highway. My boots crunch on the gravel as I cross toward Gary's truck, moving slowly and sticking to the shadows. No need to rush as he’s not going anywhere.
I circle around to the passenger side and test the door handle. Unlocked. What a fucking idiot. You'd think someone who just talked to the cops about two suspected murderers would be more careful. But people are stupid. They think bad things only happen to other people.
Gary's about to learn differently.
I ease the door open and climb up into the cab. The interior smells of old sweat mixed with a cheap cologne. Gary's in the sleeper, propped up against the pillows with his phone in his hands. He's awake, and when he looks up, his eyes go wide.
"What the…"
I'm on him before he can finish, one hand going for his throat. But Gary's faster than I expected as he throws the phone at my face and I dodge it, and in that split second he's moving when his big hands grab my jacket, yanking me forward.
He's strong. Stronger than Carl, and stronger than I anticipated. A mistake I won’t make again.
We crash into the side of the sleeper and he gets a fist into my ribs. Pain explodes through my side and I grunt, twisting away. He comes after me, all two-hundred-plus pounds of him, and suddenly we're grappling in the tight space of the cab.
"You're that guy," he gasps, recognition flooding his face. "From the gas station."
I drive my elbow into his jaw and his head snaps back. He stumbles but doesn't go down. Instead he lunges, catching me around the waist and slamming me against the dashboard. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
He's fighting for his life and I can see it in his eyes, the panic, the desperate strength like he has a reason to live, a life to fight for. Good. Makes it more honest and at least he can know he died trying.
I bring my knee up hard into his gut and he wheezes, his grip loosening. I shove him back and reach for the knife, but he sees it and grabs my arms. We struggle, his hand clamped around my wrist, both of us breathing hard.
"Please," he gasps. "I got a wife."
"And I’ve got a girl too. You talked," I say through gritted teeth. "Described her. Put her face on the news."
I twist my wrist and the knife comes free.
He tries to block but I'm faster now, adrenaline sharpening everything.
The blade catches him across the forearm and he yells, blood spraying.
He swings wildly and catches me across the temple.
Stars explode in my vision and I taste blood on my tongue.
But I don't let go of the knife, I can't let go.
This is for Roxy. For us. For the life we're building.
Gary lunges again and I sidestep, letting his momentum carry him forward. He crashes into the passenger seat and I'm on his back, my arm around his throat and the knife coming up to his neck.
"Should've kept your mouth shut," I tell him.
He thrashes, trying to throw me off, but I've got the leverage now. I'm smaller but I'm faster, and I know exactly where to cut.
The knife goes in just below his ear, angled down toward the carotid.
Hot blood sprays across my hand, my arm and the interior of the cab.
Gary makes a wet, choking sound as his hands come up, scrabbling at his neck.
It won't help as I cut too deep, and I would say he's got maybe thirty seconds.
I hold on as he weakens, feeling his pulse hammering against my forearm, then slowing… slowing. Stopping.
When he finally goes still, I let him drop.
The cab is a mess. Blood everywhere, it’s on the seats, the walls, pooling on the floor. On me. My hands are slick with it, my shirt soaked. There's a cut above my eyebrow from where he hit me, with blood trickling down my face.
But it's done.
I stand there trying to catch my breath with adrenaline still singing through my veins. Then I wipe the knife on Gary's shirt and pocket his phone. I check his wallet, there is four hundred in cash and I take it. Hopefully the cops will see this as a robbery gone wrong.
The sky is starting to lighten slightly when I climb out of the cab, with dawn approaching, and I need to move.
I walk back to the van, my hands and body sticky with blood, and the desert air feels crisp against my sweaty skin.
That was like a workout. When I open the van door, Roxy's still asleep.
She's on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. She looks so angelic.
But she's not and neither am I.
I stare at her sleeping form, this woman who's become everything. Then I climb into the driver's seat and just sit there, coming down from the high, feeling the weight of what I just did.
I killed a man. I hunted him like an animal and cut his throat. And I'd do it again. For her. For us.
Behind me, Roxy stirs.
"Dom?"
Her voice is sleepy, soft. I turn and she's sitting up, rubbing her eyes. Then she sees me, and her eyes go wide. The blood on my hands, my shirt, my face.
"You’ve done it?"
"Yeah."
She doesn't ask for details or ask if he suffered. No questioning whether I'm okay or any of the questions a normal person would ask. She just nods and reaches for the first aid kit, and fills a small bowl with water, soap and a cloth.
"Come back here, you can’t be seen looking like that."
I move to the back and sit on the floor so I don’t mess up the bed. She kneels in front of me and removes my t-shirt before she starts washing my face, then my hands, in the same way she did after the bar fight. Her touch is gentle, methodical, washing away the evidence of what I am.
What we are.
"He fought hard," I say quietly. "Harder than I expected."
"Did he hurt you?"
"Got a few hits in. Nothing serious."
She moves back to my face, dabbing at the cut above my eyebrow that’s now visible after her cleaning me up. Her eyes are focused with zero judgment.
"Thank you," she says.
I look at her. "For what?"
"For keeping us safe."
"He saw you," I tell her. "Described you to the cops and put your face on the news, I had no choice."
"I know."
"I couldn't let that stand."
"I know."
She finishes cleaning me up and sets the cloth aside with the bowl. She turns to me and gently cups my jaw in her hands, her thumbs brushing my cheekbones.
"I’ll always have your back," she says. "Whatever comes next. Whatever we have to do."
"Always together, baby."
She leans in and kisses me. Soft at first, then deeper. I can taste the understanding in it, the acceptance. The bond that's been building since the moment we met, now sealed in blood. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark and certain.
"No going back," she whispers.
"No going back."
I pull her into my lap and she comes willingly, straddling me, her hands in my hair. She presses against me and I can feel her heat through our clothes.
"Fuck me," she says, panting.
I strip her out of her sleep shirt and she works my jeans open, both of us moving with urgency. I push her onto her back, and when I push inside her she gasps, her head falling back, and I grip her thighs hard enough to leave an imprint of my fingers. This isn't soft or gentle.
I have to claim her. This is two people who've crossed every line together and come out the other side bound in blood.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as I pound into her, my mouth licking and sucking on her full tits, lapping them up with little bites, needing to taste her.
She moans and whines beneath me, clenching around my cock.
So fucking good. She's beautiful like this. Wild and free and completely mine.
"Harder," she begs, and I pick up the speed. I take her mouth with mine, tongues tangled as the overwhelming pleasure of her tight, wet pussy makes my spine tingle, my orgasm approaching. I slip my hand between us, pressing on her soaked clit that has her pussy so tightly gripped around my cock, it’s like a damn vice.
Finally, she comes with my name on her lips and I follow, releasing inside her, marking her the way I've marked everything else tonight.
I flop to her side and she snuggles up beside me. I look out of the window and see the sun is rising now.
It’s a new day.
A new life waiting.
"I need to get rid of these clothes and we need to move on," I say eventually.
We take a few breaths first because this quiet, blood-soaked, perfect moment is the last bit of peace we'll have before the real hunt begins.
And we both know it.
We both force ourselves up out of bed and clean up and dress. I put on a clean shirt from the bag in the back. The bloody one goes into a plastic bag for me to burn later. While I finish cleaning up, Roxy quickly goes to take some pictures of Gary’s truck, before running back to join me in the van.
Roxy drives this time, and when we get going, I look in the rearview mirror where I can see Gary's truck, still and silent in the growing light. By the time someone finds him, we'll be three states away.
Different names and a new life.
"Where to?" she asks.
"West. California, maybe. Somewhere we can hide amongst the crowd."
"Sounds good to me."
She says it like it's simple. Like we didn't just cross the line from suspects to murderers. Like we're not being scoped out by every cop between here and the coast. But maybe it is that simple. As long as we're together, nothing else matters.
She's mine. I'm hers.
And I'll kill anyone who tries to take that away.