She turned her head, studying him. For a moment, curiosity replaced the weariness in her eyes. “You know how to drive a rig?”
Sayer smirked. “I do. Haven’t in a few years, but I remember.”
If she weren’t so bone-deep tired, she might’ve laughed at him. Instead, she just sighed. “Why not. That’s what insurance is for,” she muttered, unbuckling her seatbelt.
They shuffled in the cramped cab, shoulder to shoulder as they switched seats. The fabric of the seat was still warm beneath her as she settled into the passenger side, body sinking into the cushion like it finally had permission to let go.
Sayer adjusted the wheel with confident hands, flipping switches like muscle memory hadn’t faded.
Diamond rested her head against the window, eyes half-lidded but alert. Just enough to stay awake… just in case.
The cab settled into a gentle rhythm as they rolled back onto the highway. The engine rumbled low beneath them, steady and strong, a comforting hum against the tension that had hung over the evening.
Sayer kept one hand on the wheel, his other resting lazily on the armrest. He adjusted the dial on the radio until a soft stream of classic rock poured through the speakers. It was low enough not to wake the girls, but just enough to fill the silence.
The heater whispered warm air through the vents, a subtle contrast to the cool outside pressing against the windshield. The cab had that familiar blend of leather, diesel, and something faintly sweet. Maybe a trace of the pastries Diamond had stashed earlier.
Diamond leaned against the passenger-side window, her head tipped just slightly, eyes slipping shut. The soft glow of the dash lights painted her face in shades of amber and blue. She looked tired—more than tired. Worn through. But even asleep, she held herself like someone half-prepared to snap awake and take the wheel again.
The CB crackled now and then with the ghost voices of other drivers—quick check-ins, location updates, occasional jokes half-lost in static. Sayer left it on; a kind of white noise that made the world feel a little less empty.
Outside, the highway stretched out endlessly, marked by fleeting overhead lights and the occasional blur of a late-night traveler heading the opposite direction. They were deep into nowhere now. Just how Diamond liked it.
As the hour ticked by, Sayer spotted the turnoff and followed the familiar route down a gravel access road. The truck bumpedgently along the path, tires crunching over loose stone until the secured lot came into view. Chain-link fence. Motion lights. Security cameras mounted on rusting poles. It wasn’t pretty, but it was safe.
He pulled up to the gate and leaned toward the control box—only to realize he didn’t have the code.
“Diamond,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the low music. She didn’t move.
He reached over, brushing the back of his knuckles lightly against her arm. “Hey. We’re here.”
She stirred with a faint groan, blinking up at him like she wasn’t sure where she was.
“The code,” Sayer said, nodding toward the gate.
“Oh… right.” She sat up slowly, stretching one arm across her chest with a tired sigh. “Seven-one-three-zero,” she mumbled, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Sayer punched in the code. The gate buzzed, then rolled open with a mechanical whine.
As they drove through, Diamond sat up straighter, already reorienting herself. She reached out and turned the music down, the hum of the engine taking over the cab again.
“Thanks for driving,” she said quietly, her voice a little hoarse from sleep.
Sayer glanced at her with a faint grin. “You snore, by the way.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do.”
She gave him a look but didn’t argue. She was too tired. Too grateful. And just a little bit impressed he’d gotten them here without a hitch.
The gate slid closed behind them, locking the outside world away. For now, they were safe.
Sayer guided the truck toward the back of the lot, maneuvering around a few parked rigs and storage containers until they reached a shadowed corner out of range of the main security lights. It wasn’t total darkness, but it was enough to keep them out of sight.
He killed the engine. The silence that followed was thick and settling, like a blanket drawn over the cab.
Diamond didn’t move right away. She sat still for a moment, eyes scanning the lot through the windshield, watching, listening. When she was sure they were alone, she climbed down, boots hitting the pavement with a quiet thud. The air was cold against her skin. She moved around the truck, checking the doors and trailer one last time. Always checking. Always sure.
