COLT
The drive is too long. Or maybe I’m just too f*****g restless. Amanda hasn’t moved in hours. Not since she screamed herself raw back at that f*****g motel. Not since I had to hold her down while Nic watched, unsure if we were stopping her from breaking—or if we were breaking her worse.
Her head is against the window now, body curled in on itself, breath too shallow. The inside of the truck feels suffocating.
Nic clears his throat. “She hasn’t—”
“No,” I cut him off, jaw tightening. “She hasn’t.”
I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to f*****g think about it.
Because the truth is, I don’t know what the hell to do anymore. I am f*****g hopeless. f**k. So, I focus myself on driving because if there’s one thing that I realized it’s that maybe, one of those s**t heads can hel
