I throw my hands up. “My daddy’s a trucker, Oaks. I been alone my whole damn life.”
His eyes flare at his name like it tastes good to hear it out of my mouth, like he hates that it does.
Elijah shifts and steps slightly in front of me. “She doesn’t need you checking on her.”
Oaks’ stare turns sharp as broken glass. “You don’t know what she needs.”
Elijah’s jaw clenches. “I know she don’t need a married man causing trouble in her life.”
The words hit the air like a slap.
My breath catches.
Oaks doesn’t flinch, but something in his face shifts. A flicker of something ugly and honest.
“Watch your mouth,” Oaks says quiet.
Elijah doesn’t back down. “Or what?”
Oaks takes a single step closer and the whole temperature of the lot drops. He doesn’t have to touch Elijah to make it feel like violence is an option.
I shove myself between them before Hell gets blood on the concrete. “Stop,” I hiss. “Both of you.”
Oaks looks down at me, eyes hard. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“I’m pumping gas, not robbing a bank,” I snap. “I’m not out here committing sins. I’m living.”
His gaze holds mine. “In this town, that’s enough.”
My throat tightens because he’s right and I hate it.
Elijah looks at me like he wants to pull me away. “Brittany,” he says softer, “you don’t belong in their world.”
I whip my head toward him. “I didn’t ask to belong in anybody’s world.”
Then I look back at Oaks, anger crackling through me. “And you don’t get to show up like you own me.”
His eyes darken and his jaw works like he’s swallowing something mean. For a second he looks like he wants to say something honest enough to ruin me.
Instead he says, “Get in your car.”
I laugh, sharp. “Excuse me?”
His voice stays low. “Now.”
Elijah steps forward. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
Oaks’ gaze doesn’t leave mine. “You wanna go home, Brittany?”
That lands softer than the order, like he’s giving me an out without looking weak.
It makes me furious.
Because he’s right. Because my knees feel a little shaky and my house is empty and I’m tired of being brave. I hate that I want him to tell me what to do.
I clench my keys harder. “I can take myself home.”
Oaks nods once like he expected that. Then his gaze slides to the dark stretch of road beyond the station.
