Mark sat in his truck, the engine still rumbling quietly, but he didn’t move.
His hands were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel that his knuckles turned white, his fingers cramping from the strain.
He stared blankly out the windshield, seeing nothing, feeling everything. His chest was heaving, shallow breaths scraping at the back of his throat.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Ronnie’s face—broken, betrayed, devastated—burning into the backs of his eyelids.
A strangled sound tore from his throat.
Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he ripped his hand from the wheel and slammed his fist into the dashboard with a force that rattled the whole truck.
Pain lanced up his arm, sharp and instant, but it wasn’t enough.
He reared back and punched again—this t
