“I must have passed out the moment my head hit the pillow. I don’t know how long I’d been asleep, but something woke me in the middle of the night, sort of a muffled cry. I got out of bed and opened the door.”

Mick closes his eyes, the tears flowing steadily now.

“What was it?” Dominique whispers. “What did you see?”

“The cries were coming from my mother. Julius was standing over her, suffocating her with his pillow.”

“Oh, God…”

“I just stood there, still half-asleep, not realizing what was happening. After a minute or so, Mom stopped moving. That’s when Julius noticed the open door. He turned and looked at me with this horrible expression on his face. He dragged me into my room, sobbing and babbling about how Mom had been in so much pain, how he couldn’t stand to see her suffer any longer.”

Mick rocks back and forth, staring out the windshield.

“Your nightmares?”

He nods, then balls his fists, slamming them down hard upon the weather-beaten dashboard. “Who the fuck was he to make that decision? I was the one who was caring for her—I was the one who was taking care of her—not him!”

She winces as he pummels the dashboard over and over, spending his pent-up fury.

Emotionally exhausted, he lays his head to rest on the steering wheel. “He never even asked me, Dominique. He never even gave me the chance to say good-bye.”

Dominique pulls him to her, stroking his hair as he cries, pulling his face against her breast. Tears roll down her own face as she thinks about how he has suffered, deprived of a normal childhood from birth, his entire adulthood marred by years spent in solitary confinement.

How can I possibly take him back to another asylum?

He quiets down after several minutes, pushing away from her, wiping his eyes. “Guess I still have a few family issues to sort out.”

“You’ve had a rough life, but things are going to get better now.”

Mick sniffs, choking back a smile. “You think so, huh?”

She leans over and kisses him, lightly at first, then she pulls him closer, and their lips melt into each other’s, their tongues embracing, heightening their passion. Aroused, they tear at each other’s clothing, fondling each other in the darkness, struggling against the tight confines of the cab, the steering wheel and gearshift severely limiting their lovemaking.

“Mick … wait. I can’t do this in here—there’s no room.” She lays her head on his shoulder, panting as beads of sweat roll down her face. “Next time you borrow a car, get something with a backseat.”

“Promise.” He kisses her forehead.

She plays with the curls of hair along his neck. “We better go or we’ll be late meeting your friends.”