She thought about her mom, working two jobs and falling asleep at her dinner plate, getting thinner every day until she died. Her mom who kept a notebook of scribbled half poems by her bed, who’d left college pregnant at eighteen to marry the man she loved and move to the plains and care for their daughter. Her mom who didn’t take crap from any man, woman, or dog, no matter what kind of shit life served up on your plate. She could hear her mom’s voice right now. We can do hard things, baby girl.

Then she thought of Bogaloosa in the barn, the smell of wintermint Skoal as he pushed her up against the milking stall. She wasn’t going to accept that fate. She was going to choose. She would use what she had and make her way out of that place. She had to hope Roy would protect her until she could protect herself.

So she looked the new guy right in the eye like her mom had taught her. “I’m Helene,” she said. “I need a lift out of here.”

His face was colder than the wind. “This is a bad idea, Roy. We’re on a schedule.”

Roy just smiled at Helene as if he was interested in what she’d say next. Like this was a test, Helene showing how she could handle herself. And it was a test, she knew, because how she responded would set the terms for everything that followed. Now was not the time to show weakness.

“I’ve got money,” she said. “I can pay my way.”

“But where do you want to go,” the shirtless man said.

“Like I said.” She didn’t look at Roy. “Anywhere but here.”

The shirtless guy blinked his eyes, slow and lazy. “You’re telling me you’re willing to climb in a truck with two grown men you don’t even know?”

She took the old revolver out of her pocket. The walnut grip was cracked, but she knew how to hold it and she knew how to shoot. Her daddy had showed her. “I can take care of myself.”

Roy just smiled wider. “Well, I guess I know what you’re running from,” he said. “Did you kill him?”

“Another few days, I would have.”

“Well, you don’t need that peashooter with us,” Roy said. “I’m not bent that way, and Frank, let’s just say you’re not his type.”

Shirtless Frank just shook his head and pressed his sour lips into a thin line. “You got people going to come after you?”

She raised her chin. “I’m a grown woman, I can do what I want. All I got’s a rented trailer and a boss who won’t even pay minimum wage.” She wasn’t going to mention the county badge on Bogaloosa’s chest. She was going to leave him choking on her dust.

The shirtless guy sighed as if he already knew how things would end. “Risk-reward, Roy. I’m telling you, this is a bad idea. We have things to do, remember?”