Page 32 of Just A Trip


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“The gauge is probably just broken,” Karli says.

If only it were that simple. I jump out of the van, the frustration rising inside me.

There are footprints around the gas tank that don’t look like either of ours and, yep. Some spilled gas on the dirt.

When did this happen? While we were gone? While we were asleep? While Karli was sleepwalking last night? I pick up a rock and chuck it as far as I can. It makes a “plink” as it hits the stupid toilet. That’s it. A freaking plink. I throw another one then force myself to take a deep breath and calm down.

I hop in the passenger seat, but Karli isn’t in the front seat anymore.

“Trent?” Karli asks from the back.

I throw open the curtain to find her in the fetal position on the bed.

“Were you expecting someone else, because apparently we had a visitor.”

She lifts a single, unamused brow at my clipped tone. “What?”

“Someone siphoned the gas while we were gone. Or asleep. Or while you were wandering around last night unconscious. And you’re lucky they didn’t try to kidnap you. Do you have any idea how dangerous sleeping in your vehicle is?” I’ve tried, but I can’t keep the frustration from seeping into my voice.

She cannot stay in this van anymore. I won’t let her.

“Safer than sleeping on the street,” she tosses back.

My heart stops. “I thought you had an apartment.” If she’s homeless, that changes everything. She said she likes knowing she’ll always have a place to sleep, so that means at one point she didn’t. My thoughts trip and stumble over that information, not wanting to accept the harsh reality. Is she—?

“I do,” she snaps and hauls herself off the bed. “But I like the van. Sorry to disappoint you, Dad.”

My frown deepens, so does my worry. Why isn’t she taking this seriously? “Karli, you know it isn’t safe. Someone could break a window, cut your break line, push your van into a lake.” Probably not the most likely scenarios, but I need her to understand the potential risks. Big and small.

“As you witnessed last night, all homes have windows that can easily be opened. Cars are left parked on the street for someone to vandalize and, as long as I don’t park near a lake, I think I’ll survive.” There’s a strong defiance in her words and eyes. I’ve crossed a line. But I’ll keep crossing it until she’s safe. I know she’s not mine to protect, but my heart doesn’t care about that logic.

“You can’t—”

“Stop.” She holds up a hand. “You don’t get to march into my life and judge me.” Her brown eyes fling arrows into mine.

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Really? Because all I hear is how stupid I am. You sound like my mother.” She hitches a thumb over her shoulder. “She’s only forty-five minutes that way, perhaps you’d like to go back for her if you find my company so lacking.”

The words die on my tongue. I would never treat her like her mother did…but I did come blazing in trying to protect a woman who has been protecting herself all her life. I could have handled it much better.

“Karli, I’m sorry I didn’t mean—”

“I’ve got a spare gas can back here,” she cuts me off, clearly done with the conversation, and possibly with me. There goes the lightness, the teasing, the flirting, all of which existed between us less than an hour ago.

I jump out of the van and pull open the back door.

Karli hops out, but when she hits the dirt she nearly collapses. If I’d been a better man, I would have noticed how green she looked before now. I would have stopped yelling at her. But instead, I went for it headlong.

“Karli?” I grab her shoulders before she falls. But she shakes me off.

“I’m fine.”

She hoists a rusty old can out of the back and tries to balance it on her hip while lifting it high enough to pour. She’s going to topple over under the weight of it.

“May I help?” I approach cautiously.

“No, you may not.”