Murphy stood guard at the partially opened door. “Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Through your mouth,” he advised.
“God, this stinks. Why don’t girls get to pee standing up?” she asked.
That brought a smile to his face. When she was done, she nudged him out of the way. “Your turn.”
“Stand right here,” he said.
“Afraid I’ll leave you?”
“Look for a way out,” he said under his breath. “In the back.”
She seemed to understand. Crossing her arms over her chest and drumming her fingers on her arms, she shot him a pointed look. “Well? Hurry up.”
It was worse than he thought, but he quickly did his business. Before he left the restroom, he went to the door and asked her, “Anything?”
“There’s light coming from somewhere high. A sliver of light. A partially covered window maybe.”
“Great. We got nothing.”
He came out and directed her to the front of the store. The guys were snagging up snacks, ripping the bags open, and began to munch on them.
“This place got anything cold to drink?” Slim asked, searching for a cooler.
“It looks about as dried-up as your momma,” the one in the cowboy hat joked, smacking him on the back of his head.
“Shut the fuck up, will ya?”
“Come on, little boy, you just itching for a fight. Have been now for hours stuck riding in that truck.”
Murphy leaned close to Echo. “Something’s brewing. Stay close.”
She took a side step to the old wooden counter, reaching out for something. His half-brothers’ voices rose higher, drawing his attention.
They started to shove each other. “Take it back.”
“Gonna make me? Come on, you know I can whoop your butt. Just make me.”
“Settle down,” their father yelled. They didn’t listen to him.
Fists started flying. One of them slammed the other into a shelf, knocking it over. Years of old vapor rub and bandages sailed through the air.
“Quit it,” Gerald Jr. shouted. No one listened.
Murphy inched closer to the door. He looked around for Echo. She was nowhere to be found.
Chapter 16
Echo didn’t know anything about trucks, but she did know a few things about vehicles in general. The cool open blade of the pocketknife she’d lifted from the peg near the cash register felt good in her hand.
She scurried to the truck she’d ridden in and slid under it. The dirt ground scraped her back and arms, but she ignored it and went to work on the lines above her. Working fast, she sliced through them, scampered back out, and then rolled to her feet.
Next, bent low, she raced to the driver’s side door of the second truck. Bingo, her guess was correct. The younger brothers had left the keys in the ignition. All she had to do was get behind the wheel and start it up.
Scrambling in, she ducked so no one could see her. Turning the key, she heard an unmistakable voice asking her, “Going somewhere?”
Her heart lurched into her throat. “Jesus, Murphy, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Move over.” He shoved her, none too gently, across the seat. He leapt in and fired the engine. He peeled out of the parking area, his door swinging shut with a loud bang.
“They’re coming,” Echo said, looking out the back window through the dust he kicked up, and snapped the blade of the pocketknife shut. She shoved it in her front pocket.
“Were you just going to leave me?” he asked between gritted teeth as he yanked the wheel. They bumped onto the main road and he floored it.
“You know I wouldn’t have.” She snuck a quick glimpse at him. The muscle along his jaw jumped. She jerked back to the truck close on their tail.
“Do I? Really, do I?”
“For Christ’s sake, Murphy, do we have to go there right now?”
“Just for the record, Echo, I never turned my back on you. Not once.”
She gulped hard. His fierce declaration shafted through her. Another memory jolted her brain. The look on his face, so like it was right at this moment, came back to her. His gaze