The road stretched on into the night as Tank's eyelids grew heavier with every mile. His hands gripped the wheel with a steady force, but his mind was wandering. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Kayla, curled up in the back, her body turned toward the wall. She was asleep, her chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.

Tank's eyes flicked back to the road. He wasn't used to having someone in his truck. Sure, he had shared the road with countless strangers over the years, but this felt different. Kayla wasn't just some hitchhiker; she was running from something real, something dangerous.

He yawned, his neck aching from the long hours of driving. The fatigue was catching up to him, but he wasn't about to pull over in some random spot. He needed rest, needed it badly if they were going to make it to Maine on time.

He pulled off the highway at a truck stop just outside of New York City, close to the Connecticut border. It was quieter here, tucked away from the bustle of the city, but the glow of neon lights still flickered in the distance.

Tank parked his rig, ensuring the space was secure before he locked the doors, rolled up the windows, and closed the curtains. He wasn't taking any chances tonight.

After a quick check of his surroundings, Tank pulled off his boots, his legs aching as he stood to change into something more comfortable. He stripped off his jeans, tossing them into the small corner of the truck before pulling on a pair of sweats. He didn't want to make any noise or disturb Kayla, so he moved with the kind of quiet ease that came with years of solo travel.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, he glanced back at Kayla again. She was still sleeping soundly, her body curled into a tight ball like she was trying to shield herself from something. It made Tank's chest tighten, but he shook the thought away.

He slid under the comforter on the small bed, keeping a respectable distance between them. He wasn't about to overstep any boundaries, especially when he didn't know where her head was at. Kayla had been through enough already.

As Tank settled into the bed, he noticed her stir, her body shifting slightly as if she could sense his presence. She didn't wake up, though. Just a little shift, a subtle movement of her shoulders against the pillow.

Tank exhaled slowly, his mind racing as he stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't sure what was going on with Kayla, but he knew he was going to help her. No matter what it took.

He thought about her stepfather, the anger that had built up in her voice when she told him what had been happening. He couldn't imagine being in her shoes; no woman, no person, should ever have to feel like that. And yet here she was, in the back of his truck, fleeing from everything she knew, and looking to him for protection.

He shifted again, trying to get comfortable. The mattress was small, the bed even smaller, and the thin comforter barely kept out the chill of the night. Tank's mind wandered again, thoughts of Kayla's past and her situation pressing in on him. She had been through hell, and now, she had to rely on a stranger for safety.

Despite the weight of his thoughts, his body started to relax. The hum of the engine and the gentle rocking of the truck worked their magic, lulling him into a state of half-sleep. He kept his eyes closed, but his ears remained alert, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

For a long while, the silence between them stretched on.

Then, just as he was drifting deeper into sleep, he heard Kayla's soft voice.

"Tank?" she whispered, barely audible.

He tensed slightly, not sure if she was dreaming or if she had woken up. His name on her lips caught him off guard, but he didn't let it show.

"Yeah?" he responded quietly, careful not to wake her fully.

She was still, her voice so soft it could have been mistaken for a breeze. "Thank you... for everything."

Tank swallowed, his throat tight. He wasn't used to hearing words like that—especially not from someone in her position. He had seen too many people come and go, but this... this was different.

"You don't gotta thank me," he said, his voice low and steady. "You're good here. I'll make sure of it."

Kayla didn't respond right away, but Tank could hear the faint sound of her breathing as she settled back down. He listened to her for a while longer, wondering what was going through her mind, but no answers came.

In the silence, Tank drifted off to sleep, his thoughts swirling with questions and promises he wasn't sure he could keep. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. He couldn't.

The road ahead was long, and so was the journey Kayla had started. But for tonight, Tank could at least give her this small piece of safety.

And that was enough.

Tank's body felt heavy with sleep, a deep, warm kind of rest he hadn't experienced in years. He wasn't used to sharing his space like this—especially not with someone who needed protection. But Kayla had a way of making him feel... needed. Like he wasn't just some trucker rolling through the world, passing time.

The soft hum of the truck's engine and the faint clinking of metal outside the rig were the only sounds that filled the space between them. For the first time in a long while, Tank felt the kind of peace that only comes from being truly, deeply asleep. His muscles relaxed under the weight of exhaustion, and for a few moments, he didn't think about the road ahead or the troubles that lay behind.

But then, something shifted.

Tank's eyelids fluttered open, the dim light of the early morning just beginning to trickle through the small cracks in the curtains. He could feel it before he saw it—the subtle shift in the bed beside him. Kayla's body was pressed against his, her warmth wrapping around him like a comforting cloak.

He stiffened when he realized she was clutching onto him, her leg tangled around his, her hand tight against his waist. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising and falling in quick, soft motions.

"What's wrong?" Tank's voice was low, barely above a whisper. His body tensed instinctively, protective instincts kicking in.

Kayla's voice trembled as she spoke, her words faint but clear in the quiet space. "I just heard some men with deep voices..." Her grip tightened on him; her face buried against his chest.

Tank's first instinct was to comfort her. He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her tightly. His own heart rate steadied as he felt her anxiety. The moment was raw, vulnerable, and Tank didn't mind it.

"Listen," he said softly, trying to ground her. "I get you afraid of you stepdad. But you don't need to be afraid with me, Kayla." His voice was strong, reassuring. "I got you, and I can take him if it comes to it."

Kayla didn't move, but he could feel her head nodding lightly against his chest. She clung to him tighter, seeking solace in the strength she felt from him. The weight of her trust was heavy, but Tank didn't mind. He didn't flinch or pull away.

Tank knew what he could handle. He had a size and strength that made people take notice. At 6'0" and a solid 200 pounds, his muscles weren't just for show. He'd spent years driving, working hard, pushing his body to its limits. He was strong. But more importantly, he wasn't afraid of confrontation.

But right now, it wasn't about muscle. It was about comfort.

Kayla's breath slowed, and Tank could feel her body relaxing against his, still holding him like he was her lifeline. Her body was warm, pressed so close to his, and Tank didn't move, didn't try to shift her away. She was keeping him warm too, something he hadn't realized he'd been missing.

He glanced at his phone, blinking when the light from the screen illuminated the time. 5:00 a.m.

Tank frowned. He still had a few more hours of sleep before hitting the road, before the next leg of the trip began.

But right now, he wasn't in any rush. He pulled her even closer, the pull of his body stronger now as he settled back into the bed, letting the weight of sleep wash over him again.

Kayla shifted slightly, but she didn't pull away from him. Tank felt her breath settle into a calm rhythm again, her body now soft in his arms. He smiled to himself, a rare, quiet moment of peace sweeping through him as he held her close.

"Don't worry, Kayla," he muttered, his voice hushed and drowsy. "I got you."

And with that, he closed his eyes again, letting the warmth of her presence lull him back to sleep.