Font Size:
Hopefully.
The notion of finding all the ways to sabotage my own truck takes over.
I shake my head. I’m ridiculous.
“What’s going on over there?” Maggie waves a hand at me.
“Nothing, sorry.” I swallow.
She laughs. “Let me know if you or Irene need a pit stop.”
Excuse me, but who the fuck is Irene?
I slump in the seat and pluck up my hat from the dash and rest it over my face. I can’t screw it up if I don’t talk and she can’t see me.
Right?
