Maya's mood suddenly shifts the moment we step onto the pier. I follow her gaze to an old Ford pickup truck with mud and grass caked into the wheel wells. A truck like that belongs over in Ashford and not in De Luca. Then I see the three boys who were questioning Rita last night coming out of the cafe.

I glance down, trying my best to ignore the damp see-through fabric of Maya's tank top. Her body is tense in my arms. My girl is frightened, and it has something to do with those three boys.

"I've got you," I kiss the top of her head, and she melts into my chest. At first, I think she's crying, but the moment I open the door to the truck and look down at her, pressed securely in my arms, I know she's past the stages of crying. Like she's cried her eyes out long ago. "Angel, I need you to hop in."

She nods and slides across the seat. One moment she's sitting, and the next, she is ducking down as I climb inside. I look up in time to see the truck slowly cruising by. The boy in the driver's seat is barely twenty, but he's throwing daggers my way. I ignore him and put the rig into gear.

"He's gone, Maya." She peeks up at me from the floor. "I think it's about time you tell me what you're running from."

"You saw them?" She asks as she hesitantly climbs back onto the seat and puts her seatbelt on.

"Yes, I saw them last night too." I take the exit out of De Luca and back onto the interstate. The cab has grown hot in the early morning sun, and I can already feel my shirt drying. "Are they following you?"

I must have put too much anger behind my words because Maya flinches. She stays quiet for a few minutes.

"They are,"

It's not what I want to hear. I tighten my knuckles on the steering wheel. "But why are they following you?"

"Why does it matter?" She yells back at me.

I'm caught off guard. My little angel is growing her wings.

"Maya, who are they?" I say sternly.

She shakes her damp hair and looks out the window in frustration.

"Oh my gosh!" Maya's voice pitches as she scrambles across the seat towards me.

"Maya, what are you doing? That's dangerous! Put your seatbelt back on this instance!" She does as she's told, clipping the middle seatbelt around her petite waist, her fingers remble the whole time. "What is it?"

"They're following us!" She yelps, hiding her head in my bicep.

I look into the side view mirrors, and sure enough, the little twat is following us. I grind my back teeth together. How could these bastards cause such a precious creature to be frightened so badly that she had to run away? Thoughts of them tormenting her and worse swirl around in my head, making my knuckles tighten on the wheel.

"Don't worry. You're safe with me." I'm tempted to put my arm around her, but her safety is more important.

We drive into the early morning rush hour. Maya's been quiet, pinned to my side the whole time. I take advantage of the rig-only lanes and swerve into faster lanes—anything to lose them in the increasing traffic. Unlike them, the open road is my territory, and they quickly get consumed in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. Taking my chances, I merge into an exit around a sharp bend. I can hear honking as they lose sight of us. As soon as I cross over the bridge, I exit back into the traffic, going the other way. A mile back, we'd passed Terry's Rig Rest Stop.

"We're going to circle back," my voice breaks through the silence.

"No, what if they turn around?" Her fingernails bite into my flesh. If it were any other time, I'd be thrilled, but right now, I needed to calm her down. "Don't worry. We're going to lay low for the rest of the day. I know a place where we can drop off the rig and rent a truck."

"Oh, okay." She nuzzles her head into my bicep. I'm unsure if she is conscious of her actions or knows what she's doing to my lower half, but I resist the urge to pull her closer.

Frustrated, I curse in my head so she won't get startled again. She's not even legal yet, I yell at myself, but that doesn't stop me from wishing it was Sunday. But I stupidly told her if she was anxious, she should hug me.