Page 7

Chapter Two

Then

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

“Shit,” I curse, slamming my foot on the brake and pulling my old, run down Toyota to the side of the gravel road before pounding my fist against the steering wheel in frustration. I already know what I’m going to see when I get out of this car and I also know I can’t afford it. With a heavy sigh, I fling the door open and step out, the dense Louisiana heat threatening to strangle me almost instantly.

Goddamn, it’s hot out here.

I walk around to the front of my car and bend down to inspect the flat tire. Even from here, I can see the large nail sticking out of the almost non-existent tread and I sigh again, squeezing my eyes shut as I suck in a deep breath. Groaning, I stand and give the useless rubber a good kick before turning and leaning against the hood. Normally, I would just change it but my spare is already taking the place of the back passenger tire after I hit a pothole a couple weeks ago. Pushing off the hood, I stomp around to the open window and reach inside to grab my phone only to realize I don’t have service out here.

Well…shit.

My only options are to sit here and hope some Good Samaritan stops to help me or I can walk to work. I’m going to be late no matter what I choose and with the sun starting its descent, sinking below the line of trees to my left, I make my decision.

Hoof it, it is.

I can’t be more than four miles from the edge of town and the bar isn’t much further than that so I should be able to get a signal in about a mile or so. Then again, with it getting dark and the fact that the swamp is just past those trees, I’m not a fan of being on this road for too long. I can’t say I’m all that eager to become a gator’s dinner. I take a deep breath and grab my purse out of the car.

“Buck up, sister,” I mutter to myself.

As I start walking, my mind wanders to my car and how the hell I’m going to come up with the money to pay for two new tires. Truthfully, all my tires need to be replaced, but I know there is no way I’ll be able to afford that. I’m going to have to dip into my savings just to replace the two and there won’t be much left after that. Disappointment envelops me. I had just started saving up to put a down payment on a new car but now I’ll have to start over. Even though I didn’t have much, it’s still disheartening.

I could just call Daddy and let him replace the tires or give in all together and let him buy me a new car like he’s been offering to do for months now but my stubborn side won’t allow it. Then again, if he knew I’d been driving around on a spare for a couple weeks and that my speedometer has been giving me trouble, he’d blow a gasket. Daddy’s owned a little garage on the other side of town since I was born and he bought me the Toyota in high school because he wanted me to learn how to fix a car myself. He hates that I’m still driving it but I just can’t bring myself to say yes to his offer. I like being on my own and taking care of myself. It’s why I work so hard, both at the bar and on my art.

Sighing, I glance down at my phone and growl at the fact that I still don’t have a signal. I’ve got to be getting close at this point. I just have to keep walking…and not get eaten by an alligator.

Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

Trudging along the gravel road, my heels keep catching on the little rocks, making me stumble, and I curse myself for wearing heels to work. Yeah, I get better tips when I’m all dolled up but they aren’t exactly ideal right now. The tall grass to my right rustles, startling me, and I barely hold back my scream.

“Please don’t eat me,” I whisper, clutching my phone to my chest. “Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me.”

I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead and another trails down my cheek and drips onto my chest, practically bare in a tank top. God, it’s so hot outside. I’m suddenly wishing I had brought a water bottle. My throat is so dry that I swear it’s closing up. I probably look like a hot mess. Between all the sweating and the dirt I keep kicking up, Moe is going to think I was attacked.

Just as I’m checking my phone again for a signal, headlights shine on the road to my left and I breathe a sigh of relief before a troubling thought enters my mind. What if it’s a serial killer or something? That’s about exactly how my luck is running tonight.

What’s worse, getting hacked into pieces by some psychotic redneck with a machete or getting my leg chewed off by a gator?

I think I might prefer the gator…

I’m contemplating making a run for it when red and blue lights illuminate the area around me. I spin around to find that my savior is none other than one of Baton Rouge’s finest.

Oh, thank God!

The blinding light cuts off and he climbs out of the car, shutting the door behind him, and my breath falters. Is he a mirage? I couldn’t possibly be that dehydrated yet. Could I? Oh, who gives a damn? Even if he is a figment of my imagination, it’s a damn fine view. His long legs eat up the space between us. His stride is one of a man full of confidence, and I can’t stop my eyes from traveling up and down his long frame, thoroughly enjoying the view.

“You all right, ma’am?” he asks, his voice smooth with a hint of a southern drawl.

“Not really. My car got a flat.” I point to the road behind him. His stunning hazel eyes flick in that direction before turning back to me.

“That maroon Toyota about a half mile back?”

“That’s the one. It’s okay, you can call it a piece of shit,” I joke and he laughs freely.