Page 6 of More than Enough
“Of course you’d pick this moment to die.” Rose and Greg, the new line cook, had just driven away after locking the building behind them. “No other time would do, right?”
She shoved the door open, stepping out of the hot car into the only slightly less inferno-level of the unshaded gravel parking lot. Leaning back in, she pulled the lever to pop the hood before slamming the door hard enough to rock the vehicle on its springs.
Hood propped up, she stared at the engine for a moment, wracking her brain for memories of what her father would do in this situation. Tentatively at first, she reached for the cables leading away from the battery, wrinkling her nose at the crusted grease and corrosion on the ends. She checked each, finding them firmly attached. “Okay, so it’s not a loose cable.” Chewing her bottom lip, she glared at the engine. “And that’s the extent of my knowledge.”
Resigning herself to the fact she’d have to call for help, she bent into the car, sweeping the interior for her purse and not seeing it. “What the…?” She looked around again, seeing the same drift of trash behind the front seat, a lightweight sweater draped over the passenger seat, her rolled apron on the console—and no purse anywhere to be seen.
Straightening, she stared at the diner as she ran her vague memories of the last few minutes through her mind. “No.” Joking with Rose, watching Greg shyly flirting with her co-worker, Jenn had walked out of the building with keys in hand, her purse left sitting on the edge of the opened locker shelf. “Oh, no.”
A glance around the parking lot told her what she already knew. Hers was the last vehicle present. The diner didn’t open again until tomorrow morning, and there was no remnant of a past era in the form of an old-fashioned payphone. The diner sat in the middle of a swath of privately owned forest, on a lightly trafficked local highway.
As if to prove her wrong, she heard an engine rapidly approaching, but before she could even take a half a dozen steps, the truck had whizzed into and out of view, the sound dwindling in the distance.
“Okay.” She sighed. “Clearly, little traffic doesn’t mean no traffic.” It was fifteen miles to town, and another three to her rented house. Walking at three miles an hour, that would take her… “Six hours. Ugh.”
She left the hood up, propped a note on the dash to explain where she was going, and peeled the largest bills from her roll of tips. Folding them into a compact bundle, she stared down at her waitress uniform with a frown. No pockets. With an eye roll, she tucked the money and her keys into her bra, wedging them into her limited cleavage, leaving the rest of it and her heat-trapping apron behind.
It was hot on the road, the sound of the cicadas a continual roar as the trees closed in, providing splotchy shading for the highway. An hour into her walk, there had still been no cars driving past, which wasn’t surprising for a lazy Sunday. Still, she’d hoped to have gotten a ride by that point. Belatedly she thought about the two men who’d pinned her against the back wall of the diner two weeks earlier. With a shiver, she suddenly regretted not bringing even an improvised weapon with her. While the odds of a serial killer stopping to pick her up were slim to none, there still had to be a chance of some kind. Jenn cast a glance towards the trees, seeing only a few small sticks lying on the forest floor.Dammit.
To her pleasure and chagrin, no trash dotted the ditches, either. She walked another half an hour without seeing a cast-off bottle or anything else she could have used to defend herself. Anxious and tense, she kept circling back to her memories of that day at the diner no matter how she tried to keep them out.
She honestly hadn’t worried about the two men until she’d seen Blade waiting at the end of her shift. The fact he’d stayed behind while his friends rode on had spoken volumes, and Jenn had kept her guard up for several days until it was clear that the two jerks weren’t going to come back for a repeat.
While the harassment had been terrifying when it happened, with her not certain how far the two men were willing to push things, Jenn sighed as she remembered the moment Blade had come to her rescue. His broad back had appeared in front of her as if by magic, and she’d dreamed about his fluid movements as he fought off the men, defending her. Then the tender way he’d treated her afterwards, cautious and caring. She’d felt cherished, which wasn’t a feeling she’d ever gotten even from a boyfriend. But Blade, the stranger who saved her, made her feel good.
“Stop it.” Her muttered words surprised her, a discordant contrast to the rise and fall of the breeze and insects. Nothing came out of romanticizing those moments. He’d found a woman forced into what could have easily become a full-on attack, stood up for her, then made certain she wasn’t injured or frightened too badly. He’d have done the same for Rose if she’d been the unlucky one.But it wasn’t Rose. It was me.
She shook the thought away, trudging onwards, one foot in front of the other, minutes ticking past as she walked into the deepening shadows between the trees.
Seven
Blade
He’d already rolled past the diner before he realized the car with the raised hood was Jenn’s. Slowing, he put a boot down and made a U-turn in the middle of the road, not having to wait on traffic. He’d been riding this road every night for the past two weeks and had marked the limited traffic once the sun started setting.
With his bike parked next to Jenn’s car, he dismounted and glanced under the hood, then leaned close to read a handwritten note stuffed on the dash.Car won’t start, walking home.
Blade glanced around the diner, knowing they’d closed nearly three hours ago. He hadn’t passed her walking so far, which meant if he continued on his route, he’d probably stumble upon her somewhere closer to town.
Unless some jackhole picked her up first.
Blade scowled and strode to the bike, the engine turning over on the first try, roaring underneath him.
Unless some drunk bitch plowed through her, leaving her dead in the ditch.
The sweat that prickled the back of his neck had nothing to do with the heat.
After not having the dreams for weeks, months even, these past few nights had been a spectacular sleeping fail, waking up with a shout just as the dream drunk smashed into his bike, throwing Blade high into the air, arms and legs pinwheeling in a ragdoll dance of pain. Even knowing that wasn’t how it’d happened wasn’t enough to derail the vicious circle of his imagination. He had no real memories of the accident but had gone over the police report and photos enough to recognize that the truth of what happened wasn’t what his mind twisted it into. Didn’t matter when his sleep was a shitshow.
Blade swallowed hard and steadied the bike as he roared out of the parking lot, rolling the throttle to gun the engine, racing along the highway, chasing the last of the light.
There’d been nothing for miles until, rounding a curve, he caught sight of a figure standing in the oncoming lane, arms waving overhead. Toe to the shifter, he worked his way down through the gears in rapid descent, coming to a full stop only feet away from Jenn. She’d bent over, hands on her knees as she sucked in air, looking exhausted. She muttered, “Oh, thank God.”
Off the bike, he paused only long enough to retrieve a bottle filled with water from the holder he’d bolted to the frame, then stooped next to her. “Hey.” Her head jerked up at his roughened voice, and he saw tears in her eyes. “Oh, hey, no. You’re okay, promise.” Kneeling on the gritty highway surface, he reached out and cupped her cheek. Her skin was hot to the touch, and he realized she was overheated from the exertion in the broiling summer evening, probably without knowing it. “Here, Jenn. Drink a little.”
She accepted the bottle from him with shaking hands, but then couldn’t unfasten the top. Wordlessly, she held it back out to him with a plea in her eyes. He opened it and watched as she carefully took a long drink. “Slow. Just a little at a time.” She nodded, the bottle propped against her chin, her breathing gradually evening out. “How long have you been walking?”
“Since mid-afternoon?” Rough and crackling, her voice betrayed her emotions, and he stood to thread a supporting arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. She came without argument and, cheek pressed to his chest, lifted the bottle and took another drink. “I’m tired, Blade.”
