Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“What the hell happened? Are you okay?”
“The fucking steering went out,” I replied, my voice high and pitchy. “I came around the corner, and I could barely turn the wheel.”
“Fuck,” he mumbled, pulling me tighter against him, his lips against my forehead.
“What would make it do that?” I asked as his hold loosened. “It was fine on my way to town.”
“Sounds like your power steering went out,” he said, glancing at the car. “Not common in that model, but it happens.”
Headlights illuminated the road as they rounded the corner, and then another vehicle pulled off the road behind Bas’s motorcycle. Someone hopped out of the driver’s seat.
“Harp?” my brother called as he strode our way.
I squinted in his direction. He hadn’t turned his lights off, so it felt like we were standing in a spotlight.
“I’m fine,” I called back as he jogged closer. “But I might’ve peed my pants.”
Bas laughed under his breath and backed away from me a little.
“Dad said your steering went out?”
“It was fine when I left the restaurant, but by the time I took that corner, I could barely turn the wheel.”
“Power steering must’ve gone out.”
“That’s what Bas said.”
“Glad you didn’t panic, sister,” Gray said, pulling me in for a quick hug. “Dad’s gonna stop at the club and grab the wrecker. He’s only a few minutes behind me.”
“I’m going to give him so much shit for loaning me a lemon,” I said with a slightly hysterical laugh. “What the fuck?”
Gray shook his head and looked at the car. “We go over the loaners every couple of months. Not sure how we could’ve missed a power steering issue. The prospects check fluids every other week when we don’t have anythin’ else for them to do.”
“You got anythin’ you need to get outta the car?” Gray asked distractedly, still looking at it. “Me and Frankie can take you back to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Frankie’s with you?” I asked in surprise.
She hadn’t gotten out of the truck. It was raining, and the argument could be made that there wasn’t anything for her to do on the shoulder of the road, but it was still odd that she hadn’t even come over to check on me. We’d been friends for years, since Myla had brought her home and introduced her to everyone. I was her man’s baby sister. And Bas was here, too, and he was one of her best friends on the planet. Even if I hadn’t just dealt with a scary situation, she normally would’ve at least come to say hi.
“Yeah.” Gray jerked his chin toward the truck.
“I’d rather just wait for Dad,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I can ride back to the club with him.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t mind.”
Bas’s hand unobtrusively smoothed down my back. I pulled the hood of my jacket up as the rain grew heavier.
A few minutes later my dad pulled up in the wrecker, and I handed the keys to Bas so he could pull the car onto the back. When he climbed back out, he was carrying my purse and the little paper bag that held my new books.
“Glad you’re okay,” Gray said, walking over to give me a hug. “You did good pulling to the shoulder and calling Dad instead of trying to drive home.”
“I was way too freaked out for that,” I confessed. “Even if I could’ve driven it home, I probably would’ve asked Dad to come get me.”
“Nothin’ wrong with that. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I said as he pulled away. “Tell Frank I said thanks for coming.”
I looked toward the blinding headlights and gave a little wave as Gray walked back to the truck.
“All right, we’re all set,” my dad announced as he rounded the wrecker. “Hop in so we can get this back to the garage.”
“Thanks for coming,” I said as Bas handed over my stuff. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I was closest,” he said easily. “No problem.” He lifted his chin to my dad and then walked back to his motorcycle.
Dad waited next to the open passenger door and helped me into the big truck before closing me inside the warm cab. He must’ve turned the heat on the highest setting for me, because he was used to sitting on the back of a motorcycle in any kind of weather, and I’d never once gotten into a car with him when the heater was on.
“Buckle up,” he ordered as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“I haven’t ridden in this thing in ages,” I mused, setting my bags between us.
“Proud of you for handlin’ yourself,” he said, glancing at me as we pulled onto the road. “Bas said that steering is fucked.”
“It wasn’t pleasant, I’ll tell you that much for free,” I joked.
“You didn’t notice any problems before that?”
“Not at all. It drove just fine to the restaurant. I didn’t notice anything going through town on the way home, either. It wasn’t until I got to that corner, and then boom, the steering wheel would barely turn.”