Page 62 of Truck Hard

Two more deep thrusts and I’m gone, pleasure crashing through me in waves as I empty myself into the condom. She holds me through it, pressing kisses to my shoulder, my throat, anywhere she can reach.

We stay tangled together as our breathing slowly returns to normal. I’m reluctant to move, to break this perfect moment.But eventually I have to pull out, dealing with the condom before gathering her back into my arms.

She curls into my chest with a contented sigh, and my heart swells. This is everything I’ve ever wanted—Hannah in my arms, our son sleeping safely down the hall, a future stretching out before us full of possibility.

I pull her close for another kiss, this one slow and sweet. We trade lazy kisses until exhaustion starts to pull at us both. She settles back against my chest with a yawn.

“Stay?” she asks, and this time there’s no hesitation in her voice.

I tighten my arms around her. “Always.”

As she drifts off to sleep, I stay awake a while longer, just watching her. The moonlight plays across her peaceful face, and I silently vow to spend the rest of my life protecting this woman and our son. Nothing—not Charlie, not my own fears, nothing—will ever come between us again.

Eventually sleep claims me too, but my last thought is of the future. Of mornings spent making breakfast together, teaching Cam to work on cars, building the life we should have had all along.

It won’t be easy. Charlie’s still out there, and Hannah’s wounds run deep. But we’ll face it together this time.

Always.

Chapter 14

Cracks in the Armor

Hannah

Golden rays of morning sunlight filter through the kitchen window, casting dappled shadows across the worn linoleum floor, reminding me again how much I wish I could replace them.

Despite my desire to remodel every inch of this house, I’ve held off on doing too many big projects at once. Regardless of what the courts ordered, I still don’t trust in the long-term reliability of the payments from Charlie. Knowing his parents, they’re fighting the court’s decision and have the power to get it overturned.

I pause in my pancake-flipping to watch the play of light, mesmerized by how it transforms even the shabby details of my parents’ old house into something almost beautiful. The gentle warmth on my skin feels like a caress, reminding me of Liam’s tender touches from last night that still linger in my memory.

He slipped out early this morning, not wanting Cam to find him here. Cam might have been fine with it, but he’s already dealing with enough change. As much as I wish Liam were still here, I don’t want to throw too much at Cam too fast.

My heart flutters at the thought of him, followed immediately by the familiar twist of anxiety. Everything feels so precariouslately—like I’m walking a tightrope between hope and terror, between the promise of love and the shadow of past pain. Charlie’s threats echo in my mind, a sinister backdrop to even my brightest moments.

The pancake I’m cooking starts to smoke slightly, jerking me from my reverie. I quickly flip it, grimacing at the slightly blackened edge. At least it’s not completely ruined—unlike so many things in my life that I couldn’t salvage.

“Mom! Is breakfast ready yet?” Cam’s voice carries down from upstairs, full of early morning enthusiasm that makes me smile despite my dark thoughts.

“Almost!” I call back, sliding the slightly overcooked pancake onto the growing stack. “Just wash up first!”

The sound of his footsteps thundering down the hallway brings both joy and a reflexive tension to my shoulders. For so long, any loud noise in our house meant danger. But this is different—this is just a happy kid, excited for breakfast and another day at his new school.

It didn’t take long to get him enrolled. I worried that with it being so late in the school year, that it didn’t make sense to have him start. But when I submitted his records, they assured me he was well ahead of schedule compared to others in his grade. They felt that this time would allow him to adjust to a new environment without the added stress of learning new material.

And they were right. He’s adapted so well to public school. After years of homeschooling—forced isolation, really, though Charlie always framed it as “protecting” our son—I’d worried Cam would struggle. Instead, he’s thriving, making friends and showing an excitement for learning that warms my heart.

The kitchen fills with the scent of butter and maple syrup as I finish the last pancake. Cam appears in the doorway, hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing the new t-shirt Liam bought him last weekend. The sight sends anotherflutter through my chest—both grateful and anxious about how seamlessly Liam has woven himself into our lives.

“Smells good,” Cam says, sliding into his usual seat at the table. His eyes light up as I set a plate in front of him, stacked with fluffy pancakes drowned in syrup—just the way he likes them.

I ruffle his hair as I pass, earning a playful groan of protest. “Careful not to get syrup in your hair this time.”

He grins sheepishly, remembering yesterday’s sticky incident. “That was one time!”

“Mhmm.” I settle into my own chair with a smaller stack, watching as he digs in with enthusiasm. These quiet morning moments feel precious—just the two of us, safe and happy in our own little world.

Except it’s not just our world anymore, is it? Liam spends a lot of time with us. He’s integrated himself seamlessly into our lives.

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