Page 2 of Clint & Ivy
I stared into his eyes and saw a man I loved with all my heart. I’d had such a lonely childhood with only my family to keep me company. When I was sad, I would crawl into Dwight’s lap and let him promise me lies.
“Everything will be better one day,” he would always tell me.
Uncle Dwight said the same thing when we fled the mansion.
But his lies weren’t enough anymore.
“I love you,” I said again and rested his hand on his lap. “But I have to use the restroom.”
Uncle Dwight didn’t want to die alone. In his mind, we could walk into the ocean and find peace together. His plan felt like a gift to us both. But right now, I saw something inside his often-confused gaze.
“Don’t come back,” Dwight said, choking on the words as he admitted what was in his heart. “Forget you’re a member of this godforsaken family.”
Though I wanted to say something reassuring, no words could fix what awaited us both.
I stroked his jaw and felt the urge to stay. That was what the Humphreys family did. We remained locked together until death stole us away. I shouldn’t leave Uncle Dwight to die alone.
Yet, this was my final shot to get away. Uncle Dwight didn’t want to be the one to end me. He was afraid. Leaving him would offer him mercy.
“Get out!” I screamed in my head when I felt the urge to linger. “Go now!”
That defiant voice inside me often got swallowed up by the malaise of an unlived life. Today, though, I pushed open the Mercedes door and forced myself to turn away from Uncle Dwight.
I feared my uncle might say something to keep me locked with him. His silence offered me a chance to escape. I closed the door and stared out at the busy gas station just off the highway exit.
A gust of chilly wind blew my blonde hair in my face. I stepped away from the Mercedes and gripped my purse.
Refusing to look back in the car and see my dying uncle, I struggled to take steps toward the gas station’s store.
I feared what would happen next. I didn’t know how to survive. Should I ask someone for help? Was hitchhiking a real thing or only something done in movies?
Each step away from the Mercedes got easier. I entered the store with the plan to use the restroom and make sure I didn’t look deranged. I needed to make a good impression on whoever I encountered. People were more likely to help attractive, friendly strangers.
Before reaching the restrooms, I stopped dead in my tracks. My gaze caught sight of an impossibly handsome man in the refrigerated section.
That pushy voice in my head demanded I keep moving. Men weren’t a safe bet for help.
“They all want something!”
That other voice in my head—the unbreakable dreamer—begged for me to move closer. I might be dead soon. Shouldn’t I die knowing the color of this beautiful man’s eyes?
His golden-brown hair was windswept. I suspected he was the owner of the motorcycle I passed on my way in. His leather jacket was the shade of mocha. His chocolate-colored riding boots were worn like an old pair he couldn’t bear to throw out. His dark blue denim jeans looked newer.
His strong jaw was covered in a tidy beard. He owned sharp cheekbones and full lips. He looked taller than the men I knew and thicker across the chest.
I stepped closer to see him better.Was this gorgeous man simply a mirage?Needing to prove to myself that he was real, I inched a bit closer.
The man held two flavors of an energy drink in his large hands. He seemed deep in thought. I sensed the exact moment he noticed someone closing in on him.
His stance shifted. His breathing slowed down. He set the two drinks back in the display case. I felt him very deliberately turn to face me. His blue-eyed gaze was sharp and almost hostile.
I should have backed away, flinched, or run.Why was I testing this large, intimidating man? Was I cursed with a death wish?
Rather than flee, I stepped closer. His gaze drew me to him. I doubted he realized its power. The man blinked quickly, sensing I wasn’t a threat.
“Did you need something?” he asked.
His voice ripped the tension from me. I stared into his eyes and wondered how they could be so beautiful. Had I died back in the car? Was this man simply the fevered dream of a dying mind?
