Page 55 of California Sunshine

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Night 28:

Lancaster

2,132 Miles To Go

Bats

It’s around eleven at night when I awake to the call of my bladder. Grabbing my pants, I note that Grinder’s absent from his bunk, but I have more pressing matters. Like how it’s been awhile since I’ve had that many beers, and the effects are clear as I step out into the dark. My path isn’t as straight as it could be, but I manage to lumber over to the bathroom and do what I need to.

Taking a moment to stretch, I notice Grinder standing on a small mound nearby, looking out over the desert we’ll be entering tomorrow. Though his gaze is fixed more upward than out. He doesn’t turn as I approach, gravel crunching beneath my tired feet.

“Doing a little stargazing?” I ask, stopping beside him and tilting my head up to admire the myriad of dazzling lights.

He lets out a long exhale. “Definitely a sight we don’t see back home.”

“No, it’s not.”

Back home, you’re lucky to spot a dozen stars at night with all the light pollution that New York City throws out. But out here . . . I’m amazed by the sheer number of stars. A million points of light painting the inky black sky as if someone threw a jar of glitter into the sky. I chuckle, because glitter’s never not going to make me picture Grinder getting glitter bombed. I owe Autumn for that one.

“Want to tell me why you’re really out here?” I ask, because something in my gut is telling me it’s not just the stars. Grinder hasn’t been out gazing this whole trip. Why now?

Grinder sighs, turning his attention toward a group of red headlights heading out into the desert, my gaze following his. Night hikers. Not a bad way to cross the desert. Avoids the ninety degree plus temperatures. “Belle enjoys stargazing. Right?”

My gaze snaps back to Grinder, searching for any indication of what he’s getting at. “Yeah. Why?”

“Just thinking . . .” He shakes his head, seeming a little dejected. What the hell is going on with him? “You know what . . . forget it. It doesn’t matter. We need to get some sleep.”

Grinder turns back toward the cabin, but I reach out to stop him. Damn it. Why didn’t I see this coming? Or did I, but didn’t want to admit it? Apparently, neither did Grinder. “It doesn’t matter . . . because she’s with Nova?” Grinder’s shoulders slouch beneath the weight of my question, a heavy huff escaping his lips. “Do we have a problem?”

Grinder shakes his head. “No, we don’t,” he retorts with a bitter tone. “They’re together. I would never do anything to hurt Nova. And I won’t do anything to hurt Belle. Not again. She deserves better than that . . . than me.”

I sigh, placing my hand on his shoulder and forcing him to look at me. “Yes. She does. But you and I both know you are better than that.”

Grinder shrugs away from my grasp. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t be a problem. Let’s get some sleep. I want to try to get across the desert in two days. An early start will help avoid the heat.”

I let out a frustrated sigh as Grinder walks away. I’m not buying his answer. And deep down, I don’t think he does either.

We might have a problem.


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Tags: Chris Mor Thriller