This Much is True - Tia Louise Page 0,27

with two grown sons—one he could’ve visited in Los Angeles.” His fists tighten on the steering wheel and he exhales, looking out the side window. “His favorite.”

We’re quiet again and Taylor Swift is back singing about love stories. I don’t know what to say.

“Does Taylor Swift just write the same song over and over?” he growls, turning down the radio.

Reaching forward, I switch it to the original station. “My dad liked the 60s, but I prefer the 70s. It’s old, but it’s better for a road trip.”

He doesn’t answer, and this isn’t going how I’d hoped… not that I have any idea how else it might’ve gone with him driving. “I’m sorry I didn’t help more.”

His brow relaxes, and he gives me a half-smile. “You helped a lot. He needed to get that off his chest. It’s hard to lose control of your reputation.”

“Like what happened with you?” My eyes are heavy, but I don’t want to lose this moment. JR never talks this much.

“People back home think I’m a drug dealer, a felon.” His voice is quiet. “I’ve got to clear my name… for Jesse.”

“And for you.”

Scout snores loudly from the backseat, and I glance over my shoulder. “He really should get that checked out. Snoring is bad for you.”

“Pull his arm down.”

I give him a glance before leaning over the seat. It takes me a minute of struggling to catch his brother’s forearm, which is tossed over his head, but once I do and pull it down, he stops snoring.

“You were right.” I’m a little breathless when I drop into the seat again, and I notice we’re slowing down. “What’s happening?”

“Taking a break.” JR turns the car, pulling off at an exit for Livingston. “I need to clear my head.”

Jr

Hope’s little round ass wiggling in my face as she wrestles to get my brother to stop snoring is the final straw.

My blood’s been hot since we fought those thugs outside the tent. Having dinner, listening to Scout confess what a dumbass he was when he first moved to Los Angeles relaxed me a bit, but once he passed out and Hope slid into the seat next to me, leaning closer, blinking up at me with those bright blue eyes…

I had to take a break.

The rest stop is dark with no big trucks in the lot. It’s strange, but welcome. I put the car in park and kill the engine under a massive live oak tree, but I leave the key on so the headlights shine.

Stepping out, I walk around to the front, reaching to the side to ease the tightness from the fight. One of those fuckers caught me in the kidney, and it’s aching.

“Want the rest of this?” Hope comes to where I’m standing.

She’s holding what looks like two fingers of whiskey in a paper cup, and I frown, taking it. “How much did he give you?”

“He kept pouring, but I can’t drink that fast. I’m not used to whiskey.”

I shoot it and toss the cup in the trash. “We’ll set an alarm and nap a few hours. Then we can get on the road again.”

She nods quietly. Her chin is down as she walks away.

The air is thick and humid, and a giant streetlight shines behind her. It lights up her hair like a halo and turns her thin dress transparent.

I can see the silhouette of her slim body as she walks, flat stomach, nipples high and tight. My cock stirs in my jeans, and I realize shooting the whiskey might’ve been the wrong call.

She stops at the car and watches me like she wants me to do something. The radio plays softly, and she’s waiting, studying me.

It makes me angry… or fuck it, maybe I’m just pissed at everything right now.

“What?” It’s a rough sound.

“I was just thinking…” A smile lifts the corner of her mouth.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“I wonder how my life would be different now if I’d gone into the house instead of climbing in the backseat of this car that night.”

My hands are on my hips, and I walk slowly to where she’s standing. “Why did you?”

“My dad said this would be the year of perfect vision.” I’m standing in front of her now, and her pale brows pull together. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it all, you know, see it clearly… but it’s not working. Everything feels pointless and cruel.”

I don’t know what to say. I’ve been struggling with the feelings she’s describing for almost two years.

“But