Page 23 of Pocketful of Shame

"That's the name I was trying to tell you about." I sighed wearily, eyelids fluttering. "He was one of the four men that night."

"Holy shit, are you serious?" He turned in his seat to face me. "You have aname?"

"Yes." I yawned, unsure of what the heck I was talking about. "Catochi."

"Catochi," Sketch repeated the name a couple of times before flicking his gaze to mine. "Romi, I –"

The passenger door flew open and Presley's voice filled the air as he dove inside. "Thanks for waiting, buddy, knew you loved me, but you need to haul ass." Slamming the door shut, he banged the dashboard and yelled, "Drive, Sketch. Move the damn truck. Now!"

Chapter Six

Sketch

"Texas is one big-ass state," I declared, tossing my third burger wrapper in the trash can outside the first fast-food diner we'd found off interstate 10. Even though it was late October, the afternoon sun was stronger than usual and I was feeling every ray. Stripping off my hoodie, I rolled my shoulders, desperate to work out the stiffness creeping into my joints. "Twelve hours of non-stop driving and we're still fucking here."

"I like Texas," Presley announced between slurps from his milkshake. "It's a beautiful state, and I, for one, am thoroughly enjoying this impromptu road trip."

"Yeah, I bet you're having a whale of a time in thepassenger seat. Meanwhile, do you know what I like, Pres?"

"No, but I'm sure you're gonna tell me," he chuckled.

"Damn straight I'm gonna tell you, so listen up, buttercup," I snapped. "I like not being holed up in a damn car for half a day. I like not stewing in my own sweat. I like stretching my legs. I like not starving to death because there's not a restaurant within a hundred miles. I like not listening to you snoring your head off in my damn ear. I like sleeping in a bed and I like running fucking water!"

He rolled his eyes. "And you sayI'mhyperactive."

"Twelve hours, Quinton," I reiterated, practically spitting my words. "Twelve fuckinghourswithout food." I threw my hands up. "I could've havedied. Do you get that? I'm not built for fasting."

"Relax, princess, it's been nine hours, not twelve, and we're only a couple of hours out from El Paso."

I huffed out a breath, feeling slightly mollified. "Good, because we need to find somewhere to take her."

"Yes, and we will," Presley replied, as he lazed against the hood of my truck. "Next sign we see for a motel, we'll check in and get you a big ol' bed and running water."

"Thank you," I huffed. "That's all I wanted." Strolling back to the truck, I peeked through the open window and found Romi in the exact same position she'd been in since leaving Houston; curled up in a ball with her head resting on her hands. "Shouldn't she be awake by now?" I asked, feeling a pang of concern churn inside of me. "It's not normal to sleep that much, right?"

"Let her sleep the drugs off," he replied, waving me off. "We need her clear-headed."

"True," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. "Who the hell is Catochi? Do you think she was raving? I mean, is it a person or a thing? Because it sounds to me like something you order in one of those fishy places."

"Fishy places?"

"Yeah, you know, those fancy-pants restaurants that serve sushi and all that raw, slimy shit."

"Dude, you are such a redneck," Presley snickered. "Slimy shit. Have you ever even tried sushi? It's an exotic delicacy and tastes damn good."

"Do I look like I eat sushi?" I demanded, gesturing to myself. "I like meat, Presley. Cow. Beef. Pork. Pig. Hot dogs. Bacon. Sausage. Fuckingmeat."

He waggled his brows. "So, you like sausage, huh?"

"Don’t you start," I warned, pointing a finger at him. "I'm in no mood for flirting now, ya hear?"

Laughing, he held his hands up and pushed off the hood. "Want me to buy you another burger, Mister Hangry?"

Exhaling heavily, I dropped my hands to my hips and nodded. "Yeah, man. I really fucking do."

"I'm on it," he said, tossing his milkshake in the trash. "But can you do me a favor first?"

"What?" I asked, instantly wary.

---