My husband remained behind the wheel while his brothers, Brad and Chase, peeked out the windows with their phones up, recording my panic.
“Good luck, Lena!” Chase shouted. “See you in three hundred miles!”
Then the truck disappeared.
I was left alone next to an almost abandoned gas station, waiting for them to come back. I was repeating to myself that it was another silly joke and that Kyle would soon return with that youthful smile that had once made me trust him.
But the road remained empty.
The building was called Gas Station Cactus Jack’s Last Chance. A faded sign warned that the next gas station was eighty-seven miles away. Beyond the only supplier and the small convenience store, there was nothing but heat, desert scrubs and distant mountains.
Then I remembered that my purse, my wallet and my phone were inside the truck.
Kyle asked me to buy him an energy drink. Since I thought we’d only be there for two minutes, I left it all behind.
