Page 48 of Truck Hard

“Charlie.” Linda’s voice suggests she will not tolerate his disobedience a moment longer. “Come. Now.”

Charlie hesitates. His gaze locks with Hannah’s, and I see something dark and promising flash in his eyes. A warning. A threat.This isn’t over.

Then he turns and follows his parents out like a well-trained dog. The sight should be satisfying. But I know how dangerous he is when his pride is wounded. He’ll be back. The only question is when.

We watch them drive away—Charlie in his car and his parents in theirs—the expensive cars kicking up dust as they disappear down the street. Only then do I let out a breath in relief. Some of the tension finally bleeds from my shoulders.

“Are you okay?” I turn to Hannah, gently gripping her shoulders. She’s pale but steady, her eyes clear despite the fear I can still see lurking in their depths.

“I’m fine,” she says, but her voice shakes slightly. “I just... I didn’t think he’d actually come here. Not so soon.”

Before I can respond, the familiar sound of Ricky Warner’s patrol car approaching draws our attention. The local cop pulls up in his cruiser, Elvis hair perfectly coiffed despite the early hour. In any other situation, his appearance might be amusing—the small-town cop who thinks he’s the King—but right now, I’m just grateful for his presence.

“What’s the situation?” Ricky asks as he approaches, notepad already in hand. His eyes scan the scene, taking in the clustering of Mutter brothers and Hannah’s obvious distress.

“Charlie Fisher showed up.” I explain, keeping my voice level despite the rage still simmering beneath the surface. “Violated the restraining order. Forced his way in. Threatened Hannah.”

Ricky’s expression darkens. “Did he lay hands on you, ma’am?”

Hannah wraps her arms around herself, a defensive gesture that makes my heart ache. “He... he pushed Cam. And he had me cornered against the wall. Punched holes in it.”

“Cam?” Ricky’s pen pauses. “Is he alright?”

“I’m okay.” Cam’s voice comes from behind us, small but determined. “I ran to get help when Mom told me to.”

Ricky nods approvingly. “Smart move, kid.” He turns back to his notepad. “I’m going to need statements from everyone. Walk me through exactly what happened.”

For the next hour, we recount the morning’s events in painful detail. Hannah’s voice stays steady as she describes Charlie’s arrival, his threats, the way he forced his way inside. They way he backed her up against the wall and punched holes in the drywall level with her face. My brothers fill in their part of the story—Cam’s arrival at the shop, our rush to Hannah’s aid. Through it all, I stand close to Hannah, offering silent support as she relives the trauma.

“And then his parents showed up?” Ricky confirms, flipping to a new page in his notepad.

“Yeah.” Warren’s voice is tight with controlled anger. “Swept in like they own the damn place. Practically dared us to do something about it.”

Ricky’s expression grows troubled. “That complicates things.”

“How so?” I demand, though I already know the answer. We all do.

“The Fishers…” Ricky pauses, choosing his words carefully. “They have influence. Lots of it. Charles Sr. was a congressman, and they’ve got the governor’s ear. Makes things difficult.”

“So what?” Christian snaps. “Charlie violates a restraining order and gets away with it because his daddy knows people?”

Ricky holds up a placating hand. “I didn’t say that. I’ll file the report, put in for an arrest warrant. But—” He sighs heavily. “Don’t be surprised if things move slower than they should. Or if certain charges get reduced or dismissed.”

The injustice of it burns in my gut. Charlie should be in handcuffs right now, headed back to the cell he never should have left. Instead, he’s probably sitting in his parents’ mansion, plotting his next move while they use their connections to shield him from consequences.

“What about Hannah?” I ask, forcing myself to focus on what matters most. “How do we keep her safe?”

“Document everything.” Ricky advises. “Every contact, every threat, every time you see him anywhere near you. Get security cameras if you can afford them. And...” He hesitates, looking uncomfortable. “Maybe consider staying somewhere else for a while. Somewhere he won’t think to look.”

“No.” Hannah’s voice is firm despite her pallor. “This is my home. I won’t let him drive me out again.”

Pride and worry war in my chest at her declaration. Her strength amazes me, but the thought of her here, vulnerable to Charlie’s next attempt, terrifies me.

“Then we’ll figure something else out,” I say, meeting her gaze. “Whatever it takes. You won’t face this alone.”

Ricky makes a few more notes, promises to file the report immediately, and heads out. As his cruiser disappears around the corner, the adrenaline that’s been keeping me going starts to fade, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

“Are you really okay?” I ask Hannah softly, reaching for her shoulders again. The warmth of her skin under my palms grounds me, reminds me that she’s here, she’s safe. For now.

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