He was also always making the worst decisions possible.
He’d actually been responsible for causing an allergic reaction in Mable when he’d purposefully lined her drink with lime, knowing damn well and good she was allergic.
Luckily, all that happened was Mable got swollen lips and a swollen tongue.
Shade had lost his job because of his stupid decision—even if he’d done it because he hated Mable because she hated me—and was now working at the hospital as a night shift custodian.
“Be careful.” Shade ignored my parting words. “Text me when you get home.”
I gave him a thumbs-up and headed to my moped.
It wasn’t the most ideal vehicle around, seeing as we were in Sawtooth, Montana, where it snowed until freakin’ May—and sometimes June—but it got me from point A to point B.
Since I lived in town, and the roads were kept well groomed of snow, I usually didn’t run into any trouble.
My dad, Cody, and Dad’s wife Grace ran a snow-plowing business together. Cody and my dad were really good about keeping the roads clear for the city and residents that paid to have their roads plowed.
I didn’t ask them to do mine, though they made sure to do it anyway.
Used to, it’d piss me off to see my road done.
Now, I was all warm and fuzzy.
I liked that they always made sure to do mine—most of the time first—to ensure that I got where I was going safely.
Though, my dad freakin’ hated that I was driving a moped around in the middle of winter.
It was temporary, though.
Hopefully next spring, I’d be able to afford a new car.
But for now…
“Bye!” I called out.
Shade shook his head, and I could practically feel his disapproval follow me until I was out of his sight.
I shivered slightly when the wind hit me, cutting through my many layers as I rode through the streets of Sawtooth.
I passed one of the bars we had in town, as well as the four restaurants. I waved at the gas attendant who was filling up a patron’s vehicle—the one and only gas station refused to allow anyone to pump their own gas, even though it was legal to do it yourself in Montana.
Dave waved back, and I continued down the two-lane road until I got to mine.
Turning down my street, I came to an abrupt halt when two bright headlights filled my vision.
Two
I speak four languages. English, profanity, sarcasm, and real shit.
—Creed’s secret thoughts
Creed
“Fuck!” I called out, feathering my brakes when I saw the woman on the moped start to slide.
The snow on the ground kept me from slamming on them, which is what I really wanted to do.
The truck rocked to a halt seconds later, but the woman on the moped kept going, sliding right into my truck and hitting it with a clunk of metal.
