CHAPTER ONE
Addie
I drove down the rural street in my brand new Fiat. I couldn’t help but giggle a little as my favorite song came on. It was a song that only I liked, so I never got the chance to listen to it.
Despite already being nineteen, this was rare for me. It was rare for me to be alone and out of the house, so I enjoyed it a lot.
Growing up, I was rarely allowed outside without strict supervision. My parents are both prominent politicians in the city and they were always worried about me being photographed.
I didn’t even go to school. I had a lot of private tutors to tend to my education.
Except for scripted photoshoots and interviews on my parents’ behalf, there were only half a dozen times I was allowed to be by myself.
But yesterday was my nineteenth birthday and to celebrate, I just wanted to drive down the road by myself.
Yesterday was a big media blitz of carefully scripted photos of my parents cutting my birthday cake and blowing out my candles. Anything to show their constituents they have strong family values. But today was my real celebration.
It was a rural road, heading to a small town I had never been to. My parents made me swear not to go into a shop or restaurant where I could get photographed, but I could go through a drive-thru and eat at a rest stop. It was perfect.
I belted out the lyrics to the song, so focused on my awful singing that I didn’t hear the engine start to sputter, at least at first. But the wheels locked in place and the car rolled to a stop as the engine died.
“Shoot,” I muttered. I looked around. The road was deserted and in the middle of nowhere. Who knew when someone would drive by and see me stranded in the middle of the road.
I checked my phone. No reception. Of course.
I got out of the car to stretch my legs, wondering what I was supposed to do. I wished I had taken a crash course on car maintenance the way my brother, Jonathan, did in high school. All I knew was that I had over half a tank of gas and none of the warning lights had come on. So why did my car just suddenly die?
It wasn’t long before I heard the sound of a car. “Thank god,” I muttered.
But a car didn’t appear in the distance. Instead, I saw a motorcycle. I stood off to the side, nerves twisting my stomach. My parents always told me to be leery about people on motorcycles. “They’re a bad sort,” my dad would say.
Part of me hoped the biker would just keep going and not give me a second glance. But he slowed to a stop next to me.
“Out of gas?” he asked.
I bit my lip. “I shouldn’t be,” I said. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it.”
He took off his helmet. The biker was older than me, probably late twenties. His hair was a little longer than normal and his dark eyes didn’t show an ounce of warmth. His mouth was set in a grim line and he had a dark stubble covering his jaw. He reminded me of the fictional wolf shifter men I was obsessed with in high school. “I can take a look at it,” he said.
“Thank you so much,” I said, smiling. “I’m pretty helpless when it comes to cars.”
He looked me over, taking in my white ballet flats, light blue sundress, and pigtails. I flushed, knowing how silly I probably looked right now. I had always enjoyed dressing a little young for my age. It made me feel cute and innocent. And it was a nice change of pace from the neatly pressed trousers and blouses I usually had to wear when making public appearances with my parents.
The man looked back to the car as I popped the hood for him.”So it just died, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Any troubles with the car in the past?”
“It’s brand new. I just got it yesterday for my birthday.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Happy birthday.”
His tone was neutral but I could guess what he was thinking. A spoiled rich girl who breaks a car she has no business driving in the first place. Great.
He examined the car for a while, his frown deepening. I couldn’t guess what he was doing, but he shook his head and muttered something to himself.
“How bad is it?” I asked, scared of the answer.