Page 26 of Savage Pakhan

My eyes become heavy, the danger of falling asleep at the wheel weighs me down. Luckily, my private dirt road is coming up on the left.

A deer on the side of the road lifts its head, the headlight bouncing off its eyes.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” I warn through gritted teeth.

We stare at one another as if both of us are daring the other. The big buck stays put as I pass, and I flip on the signal to turn down the road.

The signal doesn’t work.

I suppose it doesn’t matter. There’s no one behind us or coming from the opposite direction.

The dirt road is old and bumpy. I’ve never had it made so it looks old and useless. The car bounces and tilts from uneven ground, the entire frame shaking and I’m nervous the frame is going to fall apart on us.

It reminds me of how she had to save money to afford this car. My son putting her on a fucking allowance. I squeeze the steering wheel again wondering how the hell I raised such a bastard.

We follow the path for twenty minutes, the branches hanging so low they scrape the roof as if they are trying to get inside and take us. Reaching the bridge that takes us over a small creek and instead of going straight, I hang another left, making it a little more difficult for people to find us.

Thirty minutes later, I stop in front of an old log cabin that I purchased ten years ago. It’s well maintained and always stocked. We’ll be safe here.

Until we aren’t.

“Mia.” I sweep my fingers up and down her arm to wake her gently. “Mia. We’re here. Let’s get inside and get you to bed.”

Her eyes barely open when she gives me a soft grunt in agreement. I grin, loving how she gets when she’s sleepy.

Opening the door, the cool breeze sweeps in causing Mia to shiver. She climbs out of the passenger side and slams the door shut, only to try to walk around the car and get tugged back so hard, she crashes to her back.

“Mia!” I shout, sliding over the hood, and kneel right beside her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath.

I know that look.

That’s the look of a woman who is sick of everyone and everything.

Her dress got caught in the door when she shut it, and she must not have realized. I hold in a laugh, knowing if I allow myself to find any humor about this situation, I might get slapped.

Granted, if she were to slap me, I’d like it too much.

“It isn’t funny,” she giggles, throwing an arm over her eyes, then groans up to the sky.

I chuckle, unable to hold it in anymore. I hang my head and my shoulders shake from how hard I’m laughing. Tears sting my eyes and I collapse right beside her, rolling to my back.

“Are you okay, though? I know that had to hurt. You hit the ground pretty hard.”

“I’m fine. My ego is just bruised,” she jokes.

“As long as you aren’t bruised, that’s all I care about.”

We both stare up at the sky, the stars still hidden by the thunderclouds building in the night. An owl hoots nearby and frogs croak in the distance.

Fireflies blink, creating the stars we wish we could see.

“You really mean that don’t you?”

I turn my head to give her my undivided attention, as she’s drawing hearts in the dirt.

Probably something she does when she is bored, but there’s a part of me hoping those hearts are for me.