Trouble Road Ch. 01

This is a story written with another very talented writer.

Chapter 1. Full on Trouble

"Fuck. That traffic was absolutely terrible. I'm going to be so fucking late now." The trucker muttered to himself. A glance at the radio clock in front of him confirmed his worst fears. An hour behind schedule already with miles more to go. One additional issue could make him late for the delivery, robbing him of an entire day's pay. This was a route he was obsessively familiar with. He only lived two hours south. He had a cabin up this way. His friend had a cabin up this way. He had been trucking for five years now and this was his most popular route. He had it all timed out to the minute, and almost never experienced any traffic except for today. Today, the mother of all traffic jams had pushed his delivery time to the brink before he even was able to stop for lunch.

The only positive that he could see was that the traffic up ahead was light. Maybe he could make up some time here. So he pushed forward. The miles started to blur as they do for a trucker with momentum on his side. He managed to shave five minutes off of his eta within an hour. His bad mood was starting to dissipate, he could almost find the fragments of a smile within him when the gas light turned on. How could that be? It hadn't been that long since he filled up. He could push his luck and hope to shave a few extra minutes off of his time but he knew that if he fucked around and ran out of gas, he would be doomed. He was close to an exit, one with a truck stop right off of the exit and made the decision to pull off.

He pulled up next to the pump nearest to the entrance. He nearly sprinted around the front of the truck, his card already fished out of the wallet before he even exited the vehicle. He was going to set a record for fastest fill up. Until, he pushed the card into the reader and the message popped up onto the screen. "PLEASE SEE ATTENDANT INSIDE." "You have got to be fucking kidding me." He screamed inside his head. The trucker took a long look around to make sure he wouldn't be judged too much before bursting into an all out sprint inside. Every minute that he wasn't on the road felt like money leaving his pocket.

At the till, stood a young woman- the kind that in a different place at a different time and perhaps in some nicer clothes, might turn heads. She was counting her change on the counter, adding up out loud as the attendant gave her an impatient look. She patted her pockets and searched for some extra coins, hiding her embarrassment behind a curtain of messy chocolate waves. The heat from the day had not made her sweat as much as the struggle to find enough to pay for her lunch; her stomach ached and rumbled in protest, anticipating another day of hunger- when would it stop? This endless chase for the next meal? Living on Hail Mary's and drifting through the height of her youth.

It was the way she turned around to whisper a "Sorry" with blushing cheeks and a sweet smile that made him pause, forgetting his rush and destination. He felt her flush, making him stir uncomfortably, unconsciously tracing the curves of her body with his eyes, noticing the sweat stains on her thin white shirt, the frayed hem of her tight blue jeans, the dirt streaks on her shapely legs, all the way down to her mismatched socks and worn out running shoes. His mouth went dry as he tried to remember how to speak. Suddenly he felt annoyance flash across his face. He could tell he was being watched by both the clerk and this poor soul. Her eyes suddenly glazed with mischief, making his chest tight as lust pushed to the forefront.

He glanced up at the clock on the register, the "12:30 PM" stared back at him. It yanked him back to reality, pressure starting to mount in his mind, flipping his carnal admiration back into annoyance- how long is it gonna take this broad to scrounge enough change to pay? His annoyance pulsed at his temples until abruptly, he pushed past the girl in front of him, and upon reaching the counter, he pulled out his wallet and opened it, fanning through the stack of cash, asking: "How much for the girl's lunch?"

The clerk gave him a number. The pressure throbbing in his head caused the trucker to miss it. He steadied himself against the counter, too much going on at once.

The woman looked over his shoulder. "You really don't have to do that. I have enough."

The trucker sighed. "Listen, hun. It's not a big deal at all. Some of us have deadlines to meet."

The tone he used irked her. Patronizing. Like he owed her this. She was proud despite her current misfortune and she had enough money. Really, she did. It might take a few minutes to find it but what was a few minutes to this guy. He had a wallet full of cash. A wallet full of cash.

Her demeanor changed on a dime, a wide smile adorned her face. "That's very sweet of you. I just wish I could find a way to repay you."

The trucker tried to ignore her. Of course it wouldn't be hard for him to think of a way or two for her to repay him but that would have to wait. In another life, maybe he would let her repay him on her knees behind his truck. But he had a deadline and was running late and every second that she kept him there was a second he couldn't make up later, so today that was repayment enough. "Really, it's okay."

He turned back to the clerk, a couple of big bills in his hand. The trucker counted out $500. "I want to pay for whatever she was trying to pay for and put the rest on pump one." The clerk stared at him for a moment before nodding and taking the bill.

The trucker was satisfied. As soon as the bill was out of his hand, he turned to walk-run back to the pump.

He felt the sweat drip from his brow as he hopped over to the pump, ignoring the heat. He obsessively checked the time again. Hopefully he could catch a clear break on the road and make up for lost time. As he reached for the fuel gun and got ready to fill the tank, he couldn't help but think back to the way that chick's ass almost begged for a grab. He chuckled to himself as he reminisced about his once reckless youth, filled with easy women ready to do anything for a drink or a buck. The fast sex always filled him with excitement, but now those days were long gone, replaced by long work days and the stress that comes with age. He still felt it though, that virility as it pushed against his jeans, throbbing lightly as he pictured the ungodly things he would like to do to a body like that.

The sound of feet hitting the pavement and getting louder as it approached, roused him from his filthy daydream, making him blush as he saw the woman he was fantasizing about moments before run up to him; he frowned in confusion as he saw her approach, and then, with a sudden panic, realized his wallet was in her hand, held tightly, outstretched as she reached out towards him.

"You forgot this, mister!" She breathed heavily in the summer heat, smiling brightly under her freckles, studying the posture of his rugged body and trying to hide behind her charm, the fact that she had a stolen $100 bill burning in her back pocket. Her grin was smug, knowing that he would feel like an idiot for having left his cash and everything else behind, sitting on the counter before he ran out. She should have kept and ran, she thought. It would have gotten her across the country if she felt like it. She could have bought a cheap beater to take her on the open road, grant her the freedom to chase another sunset until the funds ran out. But sometimes, her consciousness would nag and demand that she do the right thing, so she chased him down and returned his belongings, feeling righteous with the finder's fee tucked away in her pocket without mention.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt such a rush to his face. He couldn't believe that he had been so stupid. That could have ended any chance of him making his delivery time. He took the wallet with a smile. "Thank you, lovely lady. You have no idea how much I needed this."

She flashed him an innocent smile. "No problem. I'm happy to help." Her hands found their way behind her back, gripping one of her wrists as she willed a little bit of pink to her cheeks. The girlish charm was in full effect.

The trucker looked back at her. "I guess we're even, now."

The woman smiled as the thought danced in her head. Not quite as even as he thought. That knowledge of something he had no idea about emboldened her to ask the next question. "Where are you headed?"

The trucker gave a half shrug. "Upstate. I have a big delivery to make." He slaps the truck.

Her smile only grew wider. She stood up on her tiptoes, confident that she could get what she wanted. "Could you take me with you, upstate? I need to get up there."

The trucker examined her for a moment. "You don't look like you really need to go anywhere."

That took her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. But what is a need? She wanted to go upstate. Or somewhere else. Anywhere else. Upstate sounded like as good a place as any so she decided to stretch the truth a little. "No I do. Come on. I got your wallet back for you. It's the least you can do."

The trucker could sense frustration return to him again. He didn't have time for this. The gas pump was already holstered back. The tank had been filled and he was ready to get on the road again. He motioned to her. "Fine you can come. Just don't be annoying and try not to be a distraction. I need to focus. I have a long way to go and not a lot of time to get there."

She smiled. A genuine one. The charm washed away now that it got her what she wanted. She had a bounce in her step as she climbed up into the passenger side of the semi. It wasn't the first time she had hopped up in a stranger's vehicle. She settled into her seat with a smile and a refreshed sense of adventure, feeling the thrill of a new escape, the unpredictability stirred the butterflies in her belly.

She bit her lip as she looked around the cabin, doing her usual thorough check, having learned how to keep herself safe these last few years; naive girls didn't make it long as drifters, you had to be astute. She glanced down at her bare legs and gave them a fidgeting rub before she stretched her hand out in his direction, making use of her seasoned friendly demeanor.

"Melanie". She found his gaze and memorized the gestures of his face; she had long stopped having a type but the shape of his jaw and his salt and pepper beard, along with the tone of his voice, made her bite her lip as she hung, waiting for the handshake. He stared down at her behind his sunglasses, his eyes drawn from the chipped polish on her hands, up to the cleavage she tucked snugly in a plunging V neck; he sighed and hesitated before he begrudgingly grabbed her hand and gave it a shake, surprised by the tightness of her confident grip.

"Jim." He returned her tight grip with one of his own, one developed from his own struggles to get where he was today. He turned the key and drove out of the gas station and back on to the highway. The miles started to fly by again once again. Moments passed. The two got used to each other's silence. It was nice. Comforting. Relaxing even as the stress for Jim grew. Whenever it seemed like some time might be made up, traffic started to slow. Melanie was used to the open road but as the minutes, and hours passed by she started to grow bored with the silence.

She turned to Jim. "Do you have any family?"

Jim looked surprised. "No talking."

Melanie persisted. "Oh come on. We've sat in silence for sooooo long. I should get at least one question."

Jim sighed. "And that's what you use it on?"

Melanie refused to give up. "Yes."

Jim sighed. "Not in the traditional sense. What about you?"

Melanie thought about that answer for a minute before agreeing. "Not in a traditional sense." She sighed. Feeling herself growing more comfortable. Perhaps one of those perfectly maintained walls was even starting to crumble. She turned to look at his eyes, they were focused on the road but she could see a twinkle in the corner of them. They shared a quiet smile and for a moment, she found peace in his company, and for once, he didn't feel so lonely.

"So what's a girl like you doing out on the road? Shouldn't you be going to college or something? It ain't safe out there. Lots of bad men". His eyes stayed on the traffic, keeping track of time in his mind. He was growing anxious, and although somewhat glad to have a passenger, he also felt the wicked distraction of her cheap perfume and feminine form- her legs almost too close as he changed gears. He cursed the sudden urges that now made him shift uncomfortably, remembering he hadn't had lunch and wondering how smooth her skin would feel to the touch of his rough hands.

It had been a long time since Jim had caught himself alone with a woman. He knew better than to get involved with these random hitchhikers; troublemakers who went wherever it was easiest, with no home or destination. Now he was stuck with her and she seemed too damn comfortable. Goodness knows where she had been. He felt a sudden pang of pity as he imagined how she had gotten the scabs on her knees, or how she planned on finding her next meal.

"I'm running away from my problems". She stated with cold honesty. She was not ready to elaborate on the tragedies of her life and knew that men did not enjoy uncomfortable conversations; this was the perfect response to keep him from prying any further. He could be old enough to be her father, she thought- it excited her. She licked her lips and brushed her fingers through her hair, watching the way his strong hand handled the gear stick. How far would she go today? She sighed and glanced at his lap, itching to just spidertap her fingers up his thigh- quiet and boredom made her playful.

Melanie fought back a giggle with little success, the cheery sound brought a grin to his otherwise serious face. He wasn't sure what she had found so funny. It almost irked him, but her bubbly outburst made him feel warm. There was something irresistible about her reckless freedom. Trouble. She was trouble.

Her touch surprised him at first. A squeeze on his thigh. A light stroke tracing over. Fun. Full of desire. It was a good thing that he was slowing down for the toll bridge when she made her move. He couldn't risk the jerk of the car. Jerk. He wished that word hadn't popped into his head so suddenly. He could feel the stir in his pants already. His hand went into his pocket opposite of her, to his wallet. He opened it slowly to bring out his credit card. That usually would have been the end of it, but there was a line of cars waiting for their turn to pay so he had a little extra time.

He opened the wallet, and started to count the bills. He had $600 less than what he had when he started the day. $600? That couldn't be right. He only had paid for gas. Nothing else. Not even lunch. He recounted and came up with the same result. He tried again. Same thing. He had to be right. His eyes flashed over to Melanie. Melanie was focused on the way his thigh felt on her hand. Her mind concentrated on the slow intimate strokes and the cars moving up in line. She didn't even see his obsessive checks of the state of the bills in his wallet. Jim put the wallet back in his pocket and moved up a little. Only two cars left until it would be his turn to pay. Only one now.

His eyes turned to Melanie. She could feel his gaze on her. She turned to look into his eyes as her hand reached further inward. It would be a long while before Melanie would forget how Jim looked back at her. He sported a smile but the emotion behind it couldn't be more at odds. It was coated in anger, in a desire for retribution. It made a shiver run down her spine. The $100 bill in her pocket practically burned. She knew that Jim was aware of her dirty, little secret.

She was in trouble.