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I’d made it halfway across town when I lost traction and started to slide.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I exclaimed as my heart pounded and I hit the brakes. Too late, I remembered that was the wrong thing to do. The car careened sideways and corrected, but then I slid again and went right off the road. The seat belt locked, and I jerked forward before the airbag slammed me back when I hit the light pole. My car died, and I sat there stunned for a few seconds.

“Ahh!” I shouted as I shoved and slapped at the airbag to get it out of my face as it deflated. Slowly, my panic ebbed. It was quickly replaced with frustration.

“Oh, come on!” I groaned at the hissing sound that suddenly registered with me. After several attempts to get my car to start, I gave up and laid my head on the steering wheel. “Fuck. My. Life.”

Braving the heavy wet snow, I popped the hood and got out. There were two problems with that, though. One, I couldn’t get the hood to open because it was jammed after hitting the light pole. Two, even if I’d been able to get it open, I wouldn’t have had a freaking clue as to what to check.

Looking around, I realized that par for the shitty course of my life, the only reason I’d gone off the road was because I’d happened to hit the driveway into the cemetery and then went along the sidewalk. If I’d lost control anywhere else along the road, I would’ve hit the curb and likely been okay.

My head hung as I dropped my hands to my knees and fought the urge to vomit or cry. I seriously couldn’t afford for something like this to happen. Not only couldn’t I afford a tow, I couldn’t afford the repairs, or worse, a new vehicle, which was more likely. Yet I also couldn’t afford to be without a vehicle. I delivered pizzas, for Christ sake. I couldn’t do that on foot.

“Why, God? Why do you keep raining utter shit down on me? Was my stupidity at eighteen not enough? I’ve paid for my mistakes, haven’t I?” Crying won out, and a sob escaped me. Once I half-assed composed myself, I took a deep breath.

“Okay, Loralei. Get your shit together. What are you going to do? Shit, I’m talking to myself. Great.” I rolled my eyes in self-condemnation and hurried back into my car, out of the wind.

Tow truck? Out of the question. I’d have to hope it didn’t end up in impound before I could get someone to help me tow it back to my place. Great plan if I knew someone with a damn truck.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Calling the cops was out of the question. No way. Not that I’d had any real issues since my move, but I didn’t trust cops. They all only saw one thing. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled out my cheap-ass phone.

I must’ve looked at the clock fifteen times. Each time, I questioned if it was too late to call her. I could start walking, but it was cold, and I hadn’t exactly dressed for it since I’d planned on minimal outside exposure.

“Ugh!” I grumbled. One last glance at my phone, and I hit send on Ms. Margaret’s number. It rang several times before she picked up.

“Loralei, what’s wrong?” she immediately questioned. She knew I never called that late.

“Ms. Margaret, I really hate to ask this, but is there any way you possibly come pick me up? My car slid off the road and then I hit a pole.” Tears cascaded down my face as silence was my answer. Dammit, I knew I should’ve called Webster or Mel. Except Webster kept trying to get me to go out with him, and Mel lived in the opposite direction and would then have to drive home again in this crap.

“Are you okay?” The worry in her tone made me feel like shit.

“I’m fine. A little shaken up, but I’m okay. If you think you’ll be okay to drive here, I can drive us back to your house,” I offered hopefully.

Finally, she replied, “Well… I’ve already gotten ready for bed, but Decker’s here. He’ll help with your car. Where are you exactly?”

I told her, then there was the sound of the phone being covered and muffled voices. When she came back on, she told me, “He’s on his way.”

The thought of Decker Pruitt coming to be my white knight was laughable. The man screamed bad news, but parts of me really didn’t care. “Thank you so much, Ms. Margaret,” I said with a relieved sigh. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, and I hate for him to go out in this insane weather. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“He’s got that big fancy four-by-four. He might as well put it to good use.” She chuckled, and I smiled a bit at her humor.

“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. You get some sleep.” We ended the call as I sat back to wait.

It wasn’t long before headlights broke through the falling flakes and stopped beside me. A large form hopped out of the truck and moved in my direction.

He didn’t wait for me to open my door; he whipped it open and leaned down.

“Why didn’t you call a tow truck?” he gruffly demanded without even a muttered greeting.

“Well fuck you very much too.”

He tried to suppress a smile at my reply, and that was the only thing that kept me from sayingfuck itand walking. Cold be damned.


Tags: Kristine Allen Royal Bastards MC: Ankeny, IA Fantasy