...the anger ! Was that your last night’s conquest? How do I know that wouldn’t be me tomorrow? There’s a reason they call it cursing, you know? I mean, who do you respect? Anybody ? Maybe you just fake it ‘til the mornin’ light! I’m just not that kinda girl, Mr. King!” Her voice grew louder with each question.
“If somebody tells you they love...uh, like you, it’s like an open door. Telling people to ‘f’-off and go to hell...those words are like bricks. They’re meant for pain. You toss ‘em at people to make a wall. You...you can’t go around speaking to people that way!”
Clearly shocked by her barrage of outbursts, Joe stepped back. Confusion, shock, then anger quickly flashed across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but her words cut him off.
“And how can you drink like you do...don’t you know you’ll ruin that beautiful voice God gave you? Don’t you have any appreciation for your talent? And what if you wrecked , Joe? Don’t you even care that you could take out total strangers? Ruin innocent lives? Those shootouts are just fuel for a fire that you don’t stick around to put out, now do you? You’re not responsible for the wake, are you?”
Libby’s tirade surprised her as much as it did him, and she suddenly felt embarrassed. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away as she turned to the RV door.
Joe stared at her in disbelief. He seemed at a loss for words, her words seemed to cut him deeply.
Seconds later, her voice softened slightly, “And besides, I’m not somebody’s one-night-stand. I got involved with a guy…once. Caught him kissing another girl…can’t seem to find any need to… whatever .” Tears filled her eyes as the overwhelming emotions gripped her heart. Her nerves felt completely jangled—the memory of her body next to his, his strong arms around her, his lips on hers. Libby’s eyes lingered on the curve of his lip. She forced herself onto the step, stumbling.
“Wait a minute...wait,” Joe stepped forward.
A car barreled into the parking lot, throwing headlights across Joe’s eyes. A cloud of dust swelled, rocks flew in all directions, and the tension that had erupted just moments prior seemed to break. Libby took the opportunity to step quickly inside the door. She turned briefly, looking down, “Goodnight, Joe, take care of yourself,” she quickly called down to him. He took a step forward as she closed the door.
“Hey, c’mon, Lily . Wait...”
* * *
Libby’s mind spiraled as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t start the RV fast enough. She refused to look out the window as she left the parking lot. She drove a mile down the highway and pulled off at a dark gas station. As she put the RV in park, the anguish surged within her soul, and the grief Libby held inside for so many years exploded into tears she could no longer deny. There was no longer a reason to be brave. Libby witnessed first-hand a scenario that didn’t go wrong, but had so much potential to—suddenly her worst nightmare had a face. Maybe it wasn’t the face that created her torture nine years earlier, but it could be a nightmare for someone...someday.
* * *
Joe watched the RV leave the parking lot, his face glowing red as his temper flared, but still he had a small hope she might turn around. Something about her left him yearning. When she didn’t come back, he turned toward the diner, confusion etched on his face. Forcing his hands into his pockets, Joe stopped after a few steps. There wasn’t any point to go back to the diner. He noticed Chuck working two girls and shook his head. Joe’s shoulders dropped as he turned toward the motel and began walking.
Running the conversation through his mind, he was trying to figure out what went wrong. On the highway, a vehicle approached the diner from the direction she just left. Joe looked back again, wondering if maybe she’d turned back.
In the darkness a car door slammed. A shadow of a man