With a glance outside, I see his black rig at the pump on the opposite side the one my truck’s at.
“Fuck off, Knox.”
He chuckles, no warmth in the sound at all.
The old guy behind the counter clears his throat.
“Oh shit. Sorry, man.”
Sliding my wallet from my back pocket, I flip my card out and tap the machine in his waiting hand. The machine pings, approved.
Releasing a pent-up breath over concerns about available funds, or more likely the lack of them, I grab the snack and water. Not paying Knox another glance, I walk from the smallgas station. Without wasting time, I climb into the driver’s seat and turn the engine over in my truck. She roars to life, and I roll out and onto the highway. No doubt Kade will pass me in a few minutes in his big shiny black truck.
Trying not to let it get to me that a guy like him made the team draft and can afford the truck of my damn dreams, I lean back in the seat and drive on down the highway, one hand on the wheel, cap pulled down over my forehead to block out the afternoon sun.
The black rig appears in my rearview mirror. I roll my eyes.
As soon as I set my focus back to the road in front of me, an outline of a small van on the side of the road comes into view.
Geez, sucks to be stuck on the side of the road anywhere, but out here? Not great. Poor guy. I lean forward, resting my forearms on the wheel to take a better look as I close in on them fast.
The yellow-and-white VW van looks familiar. Almost one hundred percent sure I’ve seen it round the circuit in the last month or so. As I get closer, I see the engine cover is open, steam pouring from it. The side door is open, where I make out a head of wavy brunette hair hanging over bent knees and boots perched on the van’s step.
I slow down, and Knox flies past, honking like an idiot.
The brunette’s head flies up, and she pushes off the step and turns to face me as I roll up behind her van.
The second I see her face, my gut flips over like a fish on a line that knows all too well it’s done for.
Fuck.
