Chapter Twenty-Nine
G ripping the shaking steering wheel , I cursed the piece of shit car.
I was only going sixty miles an hour, but the old sedan sounded and felt like it was going to come apart at the seams.
An SUV blew past me, honking.
“ Shit .” I jerked in surprise, and the right tires thumped along the lane markers.
A second later a loud bang sounded and the car swerved violently as I blew a tire.
Gripping the steering wheel, taking my foot off the gas, I got the piece of junk car to the side of the highway and coasted down a soft embankment. Breathing hard, my heart pounding, I tugged my baseball cap lower and got out of the car.
Shit, shit, shit.
The front passenger tire was completely blown.
Praying there was a spare, I went back to the driver side, popped the trunk, and held my breath as I made my way to the back.
A donut spare.
Cars flew past on the highway as I stared at what I should’ve been thankful for, but everything in the past twenty-four hours hit me and I couldn’t stop it. I started crying. Stupid fucking piece of shit car. Stupid-ass donut spare. Stupid, stupid six-and-a-half-foot bodyguards, and stupid fucking me for not only sleeping with him, but saying what I did on live television.
Tears running down my face, I yanked out the spare and the jack, not noticing the lights until it was too late. Not that I could’ve done a damn thing about a highway patrol cop pulling up on me anyway.
Not sure if I should ignore him and start changing the tire, or just stand here like a fucking idiot, I went with option two.
The cop got out of his vehicle and took in the spare I’d hefted to the side of the car. “Tire trouble, ma’am?”
Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me . “Yeah. It blew out. But I have a spare. I’m just going to change it quick.”
His brown eyes took in my tears as his hand settled on his gun. “You okay?”
I forced a laugh and swiped at my face. “I’m good. I just cry when I get frustrated.”
Staring at me, he nodded solemnly. “Understandable.” He glanced at the blown-out tire. “You alone?”
“Yes, sir.” Shit. Please, please don’t ask for ID or registration. I didn’t even check to see if the car had a current plate. I’d just followed the girl who could have passed for my sister out to the beach parking lot and taken the keys. I’d given her another grand and I’d made a promise to send her more money after I got to where I was going as long as she didn’t tell anyone. She’d agreed, and I’d gotten on the road.
Cars flew down the highway, and the highway patrol guy didn’t say anything for a moment, then an eighteen-wheeler passed and he nodded at the spare. “Do you need help with that?”
Thank fuck for growing up on a farm. “No, thanks.” I moved toward the blown tire with the jack and tire wrench. “I got it. I’ve had lots of practice.”
He looked at the rear tires. “You should get new tires, ma’am. The treads are worn down on these.”
I nodded as I squatted next to the blown tire. “Next paycheck, I promise.”
The radio on his shoulder squawked and a female voice issued a string of numbers. The cop touched the radio and responded in code, then glanced at me. “Be safe getting back on the highway, ma’am. ”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
He nodded once and hustled back to his cruiser. A few seconds later he was gunning it, and I was letting out a sigh of relief. I quickly got the lug nuts off, changed the tire, and ten minutes later I was back behind the wheel, cursing my luck.
Fifteen hundred miles on a donut tire.
Fuck my life.