Page 10

I’d been so mad, I couldn’t even see straight.

I’d walked back to his truck, which I’d borrowed because I’d taken it to get the oil changed while he was at work.

Then I’d purposefully driven his truck off the road, slamming it into the nearest brick wall I could find, which happened to be the sign that sat in front of the police station.

Before it’d read ‘Kilgore Police Department.’ Now it just read ‘gore.’

Once I’d shaken myself from my stupor of being in a wreck, I’d gotten out of the car and reached for the tire iron that Danny kept in the back for emergency purposes. Then proceeded to take the tire iron to the rest of Danny’s truck that hadn’t been damaged in the accident.

By the time I’d rounded the truck to the other side and finished off with breaking the glass of the passenger side window, I’d caught the attention of most of the police department.

They’d all stared at me in shock, including my brother.

Then Danny had showed up and completely lost his shit.

So I’d done the only thing I could think of doing, which had been to throw the tire iron at him to keep him from beating the crap out of me.

It’d beamed him right on the forehead, and he’d gone down like a sack of potatoes in front of about ten cops and even more bystanders.

His partner, the bitch who I’d cooked dinner for and let borrow my best dress to go out on a date with a man whose name she refused to tell me.

“God,” I moaned. “My life sucks.”

Downy had done the best that he could under the circumstances.

Danny was well liked throughout the department, and I’d gone and beaten the crap out of his truck.

I’d brought it all upon myself, and I didn’t have anyone to complain to.

Even Naomi, his sister, had been a little appalled at my behavior, and she’d done some pretty sketchy stuff in her time.

“He’s gone!” My neighbor yelled through my closed door. “The turkey’s out in the trashcan behind your house, and I’m going to lock the door, okay?”

“Thank you,” I yelled back, then promptly burst into tears.

Chapter 3

14,000 people are having sex right now. 156,000 are kissing. Then there’s you. You’re reading this instead of getting some.

-Coffee Cup

Drew

I was walking my trashcan out to the trash the next night when the little imp next door came out into her yard, and started wiggling her bare toes in the grass.

“Evening,” I said to her almost out of habit.

She snapped her head up.

“Uhh, hi,” she smiled slightly.

Jesus, that just did it for me.

I was forty-two years old, and never once in my life had I had a woman affect me like this woman did.

A woman that’d somehow gotten on house arrest and was probably her own special brand of crazy.

“Can you get your trash all the way out?” I asked her.