I slumped in my seat, staring out at the road ahead. Trees loomed on both sides, their shapes barely visible beyond the reach of my headlights. I turned off the car, the darkness swallowing everything except my flashing lights.
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and counted to ten.
This was fine. I could handle this.
Except I couldn’t call AAA because I’d canceled that months ago when money got tight. I didn’t have a tow truck fund or a backup plan.
I pulled my phone from my purse and checked the time. Nearly eleven. Late, especially for a weeknight.
I opened the browser and typed “tow truck Ashford” with shaking fingers.
Three results popped up. I tapped the first number.
The automated message informed me that they were closed and would reopen at seven.
I tried the second one. Same thing.
The third was a chipper recording that thanked me for calling and invited me to leave a message.
Split Pine was a couple of miles back. Wings End was a couple of miles ahead. Walking in either direction in the dark, alone, on a road with no streetlights and minimal traffic at this time would be dumb.
Which left one option.
I pulled up my contacts and scrolled to Reese’s name.
My thumb hovered over the call button.
It was late, and she was probably asleep. Calling her meant admitting I needed help, and I’d spent the last week keeping my distance from everyone at Wings End. But sitting here in the dark wasn’t getting me anywhere.
I pressed call, and the phone rang three times. I held my breath, half-hoping she wouldn’t answer so I could hang up and figure something else out.
The line clicked. “Liz?” Reese’s voice came through clear and alert without a trace of grogginess.
Relief hit me so hard I almost laughed. “Hey. I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Are you okay?” The concern in her voice made my chest tighten.
“I’m fine. My car died about halfway between town and home. I was wondering if it would be too much to ask for a ride?”
“Of course. Do you have your hazards on? I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
Relief flooded me. “Thank you so much, and yes, my lights are flashing.”
I double-checked that my doors were locked, checked my mirrors, and settled into my seat.
The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness until headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the darkness from the direction of Wings End. My shoulders relaxed as the vehicle approached. Reese had made it even faster than she’d said.
The lights grew brighter, illuminating the interior of my car. I gathered my purse and reached for the door handle, ready to be rescued.
The vehicle slowed as it neared me, and my hand froze on the handle. It wasn’t Reese’s truck. The white pickup truck crawled past, the forestry service logo clearly visible on its door.I glimpsed Lucan’s profile behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on my disabled car.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
I watched in my side mirror as his brake lights flared red and he turned around. My heart pounded as his headlights got closer.
Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, all the confusion of the past week crystallized into a hot, bright anger that propelled me forward. I jabbed my finger into the hazard lights button, turning them off, and then shoved my car door open. I climbed out, slamming it behind me.
Lucan exited his truck as I came to a stop at the trunk of my car. “I called Reese.”
