If we weren’t fighting for our lives every second, I’d be currently screaming. Actually, as soon as we were safe, I might let out a scream or two. For good measure.
We didn’t have time to draw attention to ourselves at the moment, however, so the screaming had to wait until later.
A shriek broke through the sounds of idling trucks. I twisted around.
Was that me?
No.
Pretty sure it wasn’t. I’d thought about it, but hadn’t acted on it. Cyrus glanced at me and then back to where I thought the sound came from. Whew. Definitely not me then.
Whoever it was, unaware of the attention screaming would get you, let out another roar.
It sounded like a man and a scream of anger, not fear.
My brain finally caught up, and I panicked, darting behind Cyrus and holding on to the back of his shirt as I tried to push him forward. I hated to sacrifice him, but he had a better chance of surviving.
Look, it wasn’t one of my finer moments, but I’d made it all the way from Florida and didn’t plan to die at a truck stop in Georgia. Like I said, not a good heroine.
And Cyrus didn’t seem to mind the way I huddled behind him or even that I pushed him forward, so I figured he wouldn’t hold it against me. He laughed and turned around, bringing me into his arms, where I went willingly. I’d barely known the man for a few days, but it didn’t seem to matter. We bonded during our time together and as long as he was okay with me holding on to him like a lifeline, I didn’t plan to let go.
The scream cut off, and I peeked out from underneath Cyrus’s shoulder to see where he watched. Two big dudes. And seriously, I mean big dudes. They might have been wrestlers if they’d had on tights and Speedos.
They circled around each other with arms up and fist held high. An argument happened as we watched. Both of their mouths moved, but we were too far away to hear the words over the rumbles of the trucks.
“Should we do something?” I asked Cyrus, my attention focused fully on the argument happening in front of us.
He shook his head. “I don’t plan to get in the middle. We have enough trouble. Let’s not invite more.”
He had a point, and I maintained my position beside him, waiting to see what happened next. The two men continued to step around one another, and then, like if the one was a snake, the shorter of the two struck and lashed out with his fist, hitting the bigger one square in the face. The other guy, who had to be six feet tall, blinked once, twisted on his feet, and then fell flat on his face like a tree.
My instincts kicked in and I ran over to the man lying dazed on the ground while the other walked away without another word. Cyrus followed behind me and caught up an inch or two away from the hurt giant.
“What the hell, beautiful?” he asked, trying to get in my way.
I leaned back and disentangled myself from Cyrus. “He needs help.”
Duh. I became a nurse to help people. Even if I was in a crap load of trouble myself, I didn’t plan to let the poor guy bleed out or something. Not that the punch probably caused significant damage, but you never knew and he might have a concussion.
I got down to my knees, the concrete biting my skin through the thin fabric of my scrubs. The man sat up, shaking his head and looking confused. I grabbed his wrist and checked his pulse, staring into his eyes to check the dilation of his pupils.
“Do you know where you are?” I asked.
He glanced at me with his lips pursed and his eyebrows pinched together. It seemed like he was looking past me rather than at me. Finally, his eyes widened, and he shook his wrist free of my hold.
“Of course I know where I am. And next time I won’t let that lobster boy get the better of me.”
I leaned back on my haunches. “Lobster boy?”
He grunted. “Yeah, that’s what I call him. Caught him sleeping with my daughter three weeks ago. He told me he was her lobster. I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I’m not letting him do weird shit with my offspring. Next time I see him, I’m going to take his ass down.”
I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing. How in the world did I explain to him what being someone’s lobster meant without regurgitating the entire relationship between Ross and Rachel on the showFriends?
Cyrus grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet at the same time the man stood up as well. I just worked out what I wanted to say to explain the situation as best as possible, but the man stomped off, waving his hand and protesting he was fine.
“Men,” I said, shaking my head.
“Are you sure you didn’t volunteer to get on that ship in North Carolina?” Cyrus asked as he twisted his fingers with mine and started walking toward the truck stop.
