I yawn as the sun comes up over the horizon. I've made good time and still have three hours to spare before I need to be at the warehouse.

Pulling the rig over, I turn off the engine. I push down the adjacent seat, climb over the laundry pile, and flop down onto the small double bed.

I've just set my alarm on my phone and am closing my eyes when the pile of laundry moves.

"Shit," did another raccoon get in?

I rustle around looking for something to poke it with when a small delicate hand pulls the blanket down over the face of the angel I'd seen last night at the diner. My breath catches, and my cock lengthens in my jeans. I'd thought I'd never see her again after she disappeared. Her face is young and peaceful as she sleeps. Maybe too young? I reach forward before I can stop myself and brush back a couple of strands of hair. Her brow scrunches, and her lips pout, causing a stray shot of semen to leak out the tip of my dick and onto my boxers.

"Fuck," I grumble. She can't be legal, not this beautiful angel.

I look back at her eyes to admire her long lashes, their open wide, blue crystals warily staring back at me. I realize my hand is still touching her ear. I jerk it back, hoping I haven't startled her too much.

"P-pl-please don't call the cops," her words come out in the softest whisper that I'm not sure if she spoke at first. She sits up, her hair falling all around her in soft waves. She perches to the side, her breasts thrusting up through her tank top and zippy. I clench my hand into a fist and pull my gaze back to hers. I must be one sick bastard because here she is, scared I'll call the cops on her for sleeping in the back of my rig when all I want to do is take her into my arms. "Please, do-"

I hold my hand up for her to stop, and she flinches back. "Don't worry," I lower my hand slowly. She's like a frightened bunny. "I'm not going to call the cops, angel."

She stares at me with those baby blues for a long moment before she nods her head.

Tired of leaning on my arm, I move to sit up, but her eyes turn frantic. It's the wrong move. I sometimes forget how big I am. I must look like a big hungry wolf to her. I make a placating gesture with my hands again, and the fear slowly leaves her body.

"Why don't you start by telling me what you're doing back here?" I lean back against the cab's steel wall, blanketing me in darkness. I'm glad the space isn't too large, afraid she might bolt, but in here, she's barely an arm's length away.

She doesn't say anything. I'm about to ask her something else when she says, "please don't call the cops." Once more.

I sigh and shake my head. She doesn't trust me. "I'm not going to call the cops," I frown and ask, "are you in some kind of trouble?"

Again she says nothing.

I sigh again, threading my hand through my hair. "Look, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Still, she sits there silently, watching me.

"Okay, at least tell me your name. I'm Hudson." I offer her the olive branch and hope she'll take it.

"Maya,"

"Maya," I can't help but say her name allowed.

Her body trembles and she pulls the blanket up over her shoulders. No wonder she's cold; she's been lying on the steel floor. That'll zap the heat from your body in no time.

"Why don't you take the bed?" I motion to it, but she recedes in on herself like before. "Don't worry; I'll be up in front. It's still early. You can sleep until we get to De Luca."

She warily stares at the bed as I stand up, hunching forwards. Her gaze racks over my six and a half feet, and I can't help but want her to keep on looking. But the little angel needs sleep. I can see it in her eyes. It's like she's been running from something for months, maybe even years.

I step around her and climb back over the seat. I leave it down so I can see her crawl onto the bed in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are closed in a matter of moments, and she's fast asleep. She must at least trust me enough to fall asleep so quickly, or maybe she's just bone tired. I hope it's the latter as I start up the rig.