Things Slip Through
So much implied in that small sob, and that last part: “even when she’s right there, in the next . . . ”
room?
The implications turned his stomach, and like ash cooling in the wind, his guilty lust faded away. He returned his gaze to the road—the empty, endless road—and the silence stretched out between them until he said, “Didn’t get your name, by the way.”
“Jenny. Jenny Tillman.”
“Jarred Simmons,” he said, wondering: why does that name sound so familiar?
Where had he heard it before?
But before he could ask, the Ram stalled without even a warning rumble. They decelerated abruptly and he cursed under his breath while fighting to bring them to a safe stop alongside the road without power ste
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