Abandoned In Wasteland, He Rode To Me

Chapter 2

The words hit me like a sledgehammer. "What do you mean you're not going to claim the body? My father is waiting for me!"

Damian's brows knit together tightly. "Mr. Sterling is already gone. Are you really going to throw your own life away for a corpse? The living are more important than the dead!"

He had never shouted at me like that, nor had he ever said anything so atrocious. A chill went through me. "What are you saying?"

Thinking about how my dad had always thought of Damian whenever he had anything good while he was alive, a dull ache spread through my chest.

Damian went silent. The atmosphere in the car turned suffocatingly tense.

The driver broke the silence, his accent thick and nearly indecipherable. "There's a weigh station about thirty miles ahead."

Damian's eyes lit up. Vivienne spoke up, her voice fragile and weak, "Mr. Hawthorne, please don't fight with Celeste over me. I can push through it."

Damian touched her forehead with concern, frowning. "Are you sure?"

The sight of his tenderness toward her pierced my heart. Only after Vivienne shook her head did he look at me. "We'll stay the night at the weigh station. That's acceptable, right?"

I was still choking on resentment, but I had no choice but to nod. The car started moving again, and the unchanging desert landscape outside the window felt suffocating. Glancing up at the rearview mirror, I saw Vivienne leaning on Damian's shoulder, flashing me a smug, taunting smile. I stared back coldly for two seconds before clenching my hands tightly.

Half an hour later, we pulled into the weigh station. It was hardly a station; it was just a few dilapidated, low-slung bungalows, with a horse tethered in the corner. A young man slid out from under a truck and glanced at us. "Food, gas, or lodging?"

I caught a glimpse of his tattoos and then nervously eyed two burly men nearby who were sharpening knives to butcher meat. Trepidation surged through me.

Damian stepped forward. "We'll take it all."

The young man gestured toward a building that looked like a general store. "Register in there."

I followed Damian, my anxiety rising. "Damian, can we just rest for a bit and then head back out?"

Supporting Vivienne, Damian didn't spare me a single glance. "No. Can't you see the state Vivienne is in?"

Stung, I wanted to say more, but the proprietress interrupted, looking at us impatiently. "Only three rooms left."

There were four of us, so two would have to share. I bit my lip. "Then Damian and I..."

Before I could finish, Vivienne interrupted, her voice sweet and delicate. "Mr. Hawthorne, you and Celeste are accustomed to luxury. Maybe I could just share a room with the driver for the night..."

"Absolutely not!" Damian's face darkened as he glared at her. "What are you talking about? Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?!"

His tone was harsh, but his eyes were filled with worry and care. My heart sank.

Sure enough, the next second, he turned to me. "You're used to sleeping alone. Vivienne and I will just share a room for the night."

My fingernails dug into my palms, and pain lanced through my chest. This was the first time Damian had chosen someone else over me when I was right there. We used to call ourselves just friends, but I could feel that he liked me. Even though we never explicitly defined it, our friends and parents all assumed we were a couple.

But now...

Vivienne's eyes were filled with triumph. "Celeste, please don't misunderstand. I'll just sleep on the floor..."

Damian immediately frowned at her. "You're not feeling well. Why would you sleep on the floor? People will think I abuse my employees!"

I was so stifled I couldn't bear to watch their flirting any longer, so I headed outside for some air. Just as I reached the door, I saw a tall figure flash by and enter the room in the farthest corner. Were there other travelers here? A strange feeling flickered through me, then vanished.

That night, in my cramped room, I lay on the musty bedding, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. My mind was filled with thoughts of my late father and Damian, who was sleeping with someone else next door. Just as I was thinking this, a muffled cry came through the wall. "Ah... Mr. Hawthorne, don't touch that... it hurts..."