Page 14 of Truck Hard

Silence falls heavy upon us. Even Mac stops working completely now with widened eyes reflecting shock intermingled with curiosity. I can feel their collective gaze weighing heavilyupon my shoulders that are already burdened enough without their judgmental stares complicating matters further.

Until finally Christian speaks up again softer this time almost tentatively. “No one’s saying you did anything wrong.”

“ButI did! It’s my fault. All of it. I could have been the reason she didn’t marry him. But I refused.”

Christian’s words ring hollow in my ears as rage and guilt churn inside me. He doesn’t understand. None of them do. They weren’t there that night, two days before Hannah’s wedding, when she came to me one last time.

“Tell me not to marry him,” she’d whispered against my lips. “Tell me you want me to stay.”

But I didn’t. I pushed her away, convinced I was doing the right thing. Charlie could give her everything I couldn’t—security, status, a life beyond this small town. What could I offer except a mechanic’s salary and a family legacy of broken promises?

I slam my hand against the workbench again, harder this time. Tools rattle and a few slip off the edge, clattering to the floor.

“Whoa, easy there.” Mac’s voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts. He’s abandoned his race car, moving closer with hands raised like he’s approaching a wild animal.

“I’m fine.” I growl, but the word tastes like ash in my mouth. Nothing is fine. Hannah’s back. Cameron—my son—is here. Charlie’s in jail for what he did to them. And all of it, every bit of pain they endured, traces back to my choices.

“Bullshit.” Christian hasn’t moved from his spot by his bike, but his eyes are sharp, assessing. “You’re not fine. Hannah’s return is eating you up inside.”

The name hits me like a hard punch in the jaw. “Drop it.”

“No.” Christian’s voice hardens. He gestures to the others. “Give us a minute.”

Mac hesitates, clearly wanting to argue, but something in Christian’s expression makes him back off. He retreats to his corner of the shop, taking Sophia with him. Even Ash, who’s been quietly watching from his workbench, finds somewhere else to be.

Christian waits until they’re out of earshot before speaking again. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever fucked up? Who’s made choices that hurt people?”

“That’s different.” I lean heavily against the workbench, suddenly exhausted. “Your addiction... that wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” He moves closer, voice dropping. “I chose to take that first hit. Chose to keep using even when I knew what it was doing to this family.” His jaw tightens. “You want to talk about guilt? About watching someone you love suffer because of your choices?”

The words hit too close to home. “Christian—”

“No, you need to hear this.” He plants himself directly in front of me, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You think you’re protecting everyone by carrying all this shit alone? By beating yourself up over choices you made when you were barely more than a kid?”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” His voice softens slightly. “Look, I get it. Your mom died, Dad checked out, made a string of questionable decisions with several women, and suddenly you had to be the responsible one. Had to take care of everyone else. All Dad’s fuck-ups. But you were twenty-two, Liam. We were all just kids trying to figure shit out.”

“Kids don’t get people killed.” The words slip out before I can stop them, bitter and raw.

Christian’s expression shifts. “Hannah’s not dead.”

“No thanks to me.” I run a hand over my face, feeling the day’s worth of stubble scratch against my palm. “You saw herthat night. When you and Edge saved her... fuck, there was so much blood. And Cameron—” My voice breaks on my son’s name. “He had to watch it happen. Had to see his mother beaten half to death because I was too much of a coward to—”

“To what?” Christian demands. “To stop her from marrying Charlie? You think you could have predicted what he’d become?”

“I should have known something was off about him. The way he looked at her, like she was property. Like she belonged to him.” The memory makes my stomach turn. “But I was so caught up in my own bullshit, so convinced I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“And now?”

The question catches me off guard. “What?”

“Now.” Christian crosses his arms. “Are you still convinced you’re not good enough?”

The answer sticks in my throat. Am I? Hannah’s back, but she’s different now. Stronger in some ways, more fragile in others. And Cameron... God, how do I even begin to make up for twelve years of absence?

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I say finally. “She needs time to heal. To figure out who she is without Charlie’s shadow hanging over her. The last thing she needs is me complicating things.”

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