Amnesty by Jo Noelle

Amnesty by Jo Noelle

Author:Jo Noelle [Noelle, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Box Press LLC
Published: 2014-09-16T05:00:00+00:00


Chapter 13

10 Days Left

The tailgate of the rust ridden pick-up drops, sending dirt toward the road and dust into the air each time a bale is thrown on top. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a truck so rounded—the corners on the hood, hubs and tires, over the cab—all round. I don’t have a sense of a decade for this scene. When I see Marc, hot Mr. Medieval Royalty, sweat glistening on his shoulders and back, lifting and throwing a bale of hay, one in a dozen endless rows, he’s turned away from me. Appreciatively I admit that boy can rock a pair of jeans. The bales of hay or straw or something fill the bed of the truck, just above the height of the cab.

His chiseled shoulders angle toward his waist, broad and tanned. Muscles roll with precision as he lifts and tosses bales from the ground to both sides of the truck. It’s hard work and his arms flex and firm with the lifting. The poetic movement of his work is…Mmm. I should probably say something so he doesn’t catch me ogling. “Hey.”

Relaxing, glistening with sweat, Marc turns toward me and reaches to get his shirt off the side of the truck bed. Instead of putting it on, he wipes the sweat off his face. I really don’t care if his six-pack is real or if he is imagining it so I’ll see it—same result. I don’t care which it is—I’m a little breathless.

Although he catches me looking, he just smiles. Noticing my mouth is slightly parted, I purse my lips and pretend to adjust my hair, pushing it to the back and rolling it into a rope before pulling it back over my shoulder. Marc has to know how aware of him I am and a smirk doesn’t leave his face when he pulls on the T-shirt and sits on the tailgate.

“Can you take a break?” I ask as I join him. The truck bobs a bit and my feet no longer touch the ground.

“Sure. I know the boss. He won’t mind.” He tucks his gloves into his back pocket. “How’s high school?”

Nice—he’s learning. I don’t want to talk about the assignment. “Hasn’t burned down yet. And I’ll be back there tomorrow.”

He shoulder-bumps me. “I think I would have liked high school. Lots of people. Lots to do.”

Yeah, I could see that about him. After all, he works for the fun of it. He would have loved a perfect attendance record and being the most popular guy on campus because hot, nice and smart are the trifecta of being in. All he would need is money and since he lived in a castle, he probably would have had that too. “High school is lots of homework and lots of drama.” This isn’t exactly the topic I came here to talk about. But instead of making a smooth transition, I blurt, “Who is the other team? Am I in danger? What can they do?”

Marc looks up into the sky.



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