Tank's eyes blinked open as the morning light peeked through the edges of the truck's curtains. His body was still warm, Kayla's smaller frame nestled against him. For a second, he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of her trust still draped over him. He hadn't had a peaceful sleep like that in a long time, but now the reality of the day ahead was setting in.

With a deep exhale, he carefully unwrapped her arms from around him and sat up, rubbing a hand down his face. The truck stop outside was already alive with movement—engines roaring, men talking, the faint scent of diesel and coffee wafting through the air.

Kayla stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open as she stretched.

"Morning," she mumbled, her voice still laced with sleep.

"Mornin," Tank responded, his deep voice slightly rough from sleep. He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders before standing up. "I need to grab a shower 'fore we hit the road. You probably wanna freshen up too."

Kayla nodded, sitting up. "Yeah, I definitely need to."

Tank reached for his duffle bag, pulling out a fresh T-shirt and boxers. He glanced at Kayla, who was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her tank top slipping off one shoulder.

His jaw flexed. She was young, vulnerable, and right now, she needed protection more than anything.

He grabbed his towel and turned back to her. "Look, I'm ain't lettin' you out of my sight. Too many men around here that'd take one look at ya and see an easy target." His voice was firm but not harsh. Just facts.

Kayla nodded. She was starting to understand that out here, she had to move carefully.

"I'll shower first," Tank continued, "and ya wait in the stall. Then when I'm done, ya shower while I get dressed. That way, you're not out here alone."

Kayla hesitated for a second, then nodded again. "Alright."

Tank pulled on his sweats, tugged a hoodie over his bare chest, and grabbed his duffle bag. "Come on," he said, leading the way out of the truck.

The morning air was crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the rig. Kayla stuck close behind him as they entered the truck stop, the scent of bacon and coffee from the diner section filling the space. The showers were toward the back, a row of private stalls available for truckers who needed to clean up before getting back on the road.

Tank paid for their stall, nodding at the attendant before leading Kayla inside. The space was small but clean, with a bench, a sink, and a large shower area separated by a curtain.

Tank turned to Kayla. "Lock the door behind us."

She did as he said, her movements quick and precise.

"I'll be quick," he told her, tossing his bag onto the bench. He pulled off his hoodie, revealing a solid, muscled chest that made Kayla look away quickly.

Tank smirked but didn't say anything. Instead, he stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

The sound of water hitting the tile filled the space, and Kayla sat down on the bench, waiting. She glanced around, her nerves settling a little now that she wasn't out in the open. She knew she could trust Tank—he hadn't given her a reason not to—but still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was running out of time. That, somehow, Vince would find her.

Minutes passed, and eventually, the water shut off.

Tank stepped out, a towel slung low around his waist, his light skin glistening from the heat. Kayla looked down, trying to keep her eyes anywhere but on him.

"You're up," he said, reaching for his clothes.

Kayla grabbed her own bag and slipped past him, closing the curtain behind her. As soon as the hot water hit her skin, she exhaled deeply, letting the tension melt away.

Outside the stall, Tank pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, sweatpants, and a T-shirt, his mind already planning their next stop. He'd get them something to eat, fill up on gas, and then keep pushing toward Maine.

But as he sat on the bench, lacing up his boots, his mind kept drifting back to one thought.

Kayla was safe... for now, but how long would that last?

Kayla cut the shower off and reached for the towel Tank had left for her. The warmth from the water faded quickly, replaced by the cool air of the truck stop bathroom. She dried off fast, not wanting to stand there dripping for too long.

When she stepped out from behind the curtain, she noticed Tank resting his eyes, his head leaned back against the wall. His chest rose and fell steadily, his arms crossed over his broad chest like he didn't have a single worry in the world.

A small smirk played on her lips as she quickly dressed. "If you want, I could drive," she teased, pulling her sweater over her head.

Tank smirked but didn't open his eyes. "Yeah, aight. We'd be in a damn ditch 'fore we made it out the parkin' lot," he drawled, his thick Mississippi accent coating every word.

Kayla laughed as she slipped on her leggings, shaking her head. "But will you teach me?" she asked, tying her shoes.

Tank cracked one eye open, peeking at her. Now that she was dressed, he didn't hesitate to give her a once-over, making sure she was good to go.

Kayla, on the other hand, was being more discreet. She had already noticed how tall he was, but now, with the dim lighting casting shadows across his face, she took in more. His light brown skin was smooth, his jawline sharp, and those light brown eyes of his—damn near hypnotizing. His taper fade was fresh, making him look even more put together. But what stood out most was his build—broad shoulders, thick arms, chest built like he lifted engines for fun.

Yeah, if it ever came to it, he'd have no problem protecting her.

Tank smirked, catching her staring. He stretched lazily, flexing just a little—just enough to let her know he saw her peepin'. "We'll see, Kayla," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Might teach ya how to drive, but that's a whole lotta truck to handle."

Kayla crossed her arms, tilting her head. "I think I can handle it," she challenged, taking a seat next to him on the bench.

Tank chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll see 'bout that." He sat forward, stretching out his legs before standing up. "Now, what you hungry for? 'Cause I'm starvin'."

Kayla shrugged. "Whatever you want to eat, I'll eat."

Tank let out a deep chuckle as he grabbed his duffle and handed Kayla hers. "That's dangerous, lil' girl. You don't even know what I like to eat," he teased, leading them out of the shower stall.

Kayla walked beside him, feeling a little lighter than she had in days. Maybe it was the shower, maybe it was Tank's easygoing nature, or maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, she wasn't alone.

Tank opened the door, leading them out into the truck stop diner, the smell of bacon and fresh coffee filling the air. "C'mon, let's get some food in ya," he said, throwing a casual arm around her shoulder as they walked inside.

Kayla liked his arm around her. It made her feel safe—protected, even. It had been a long time since she'd felt anything close to that.

As they walked into the diner, she reached up, gathering her braids into a high bun. The action was second nature, but when she glanced over, she caught Tank watching her. His light brown eyes lingered, taking her in like he was seeing her for the first time.

She frowned slightly. "I have something on my face?" she asked, suddenly feeling a little insecure.

Tank shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Nah... you just real pretty," he said smoothly.

Kayla chuckled, though there wasn't much humor in it. "I've been told I'm pretty my whole life, and truth be told, I wish I was ugly," she admitted, her voice quieter now.

Tank's brows knitted together. "Why you say that?" he questioned.

Kayla shifted in her seat as they slid into a booth, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the table. "Pretty draws the wrong attention," she muttered. "From boys my age to grown-ass men... it's like they just see my face or my body and that's it. Like I don't have a brain. I have a good heart, I'm smart, but they don't care about none of that." She sighed, shaking her head.

Tank nodded, finishing her sentence. "All they see is your pretty face."

"Yeah," Kayla said, meeting his gaze.

A beat of silence passed between them before she added, "But... thank you for thinkin' I'm pretty. Even when I'm at my lowest."

Tank leaned back against the booth, arms draped across the top like he had all the time in the world. "You ain't at your lowest," he corrected. "Might not be the best time right now, but trust me... this ain't the bottom."

Kayla looked at him, liking how sure he sounded. He wasn't just saying that to make her feel better—he meant it.

She smirked, deciding she liked his confidence. "Thank you, Tanky."

Tank raised a brow, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Tanky?"

"Mhm," Kayla hummed, reaching for a menu.

Tank shook his head, chuckling. "Lil' girl, you somethin' else," he muttered. But he didn't tell her to stop sayin' it. Truth be told, he kind of liked the way it rolled off her tongue.

A waitress approached, setting down two glasses of water. "Y'all ready to order?"

Tank glanced over at Kayla. "What you want, lil' bit?"

Kayla looked over the menu, then back at him. "What you eatin'?"

Tank smirked. "Big man breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, grits—whole nine yards."

Kayla grinned. "I'll take the same."

Tank chuckled. "Aight, but you bet' not waste no food."

Kayla gave him a playful eye roll. "I can eat."

"We gon' see," Tank teased, handing the waitress their menus.

As she walked away, Kayla leaned back, exhaling. Maybe this whole thing was crazy. Maybe she was putting too much trust in a man she just met. But for the first time in a long time, she wasn't looking over her shoulder.

And that? That felt good.