Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Seriously, how could it go wrong?
I should’ve known. Freaking Janie… she was always right about this kind of stuff.
Nothing ever went ‘right’ for me.
It always went wrong. Always.
Parker put the truck into drive and pulled out of the parking spot he’d backed expertly into.
I stayed silent as he drove. “Do you need us to go drop any of this off?”
I made a sound in my throat akin to a wounded, dying animal. “No.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him glance at me, amusement written all over his face.
I turned farther away and studied the street that was passing by.
I was so focused on the terrain, studying cars and bikes, that I didn’t expect him to pull over.
I frowned and looked over at him, but he was busy studying his mirrors.
He backed up expertly, right in between two cars that were parked fairly badly.
The moment he was where he wanted to be, he got out, and that’s when I realized that he was getting a car that was directly behind us.
I turned in my seat and watched as he went to the controls on the side of the truck.
The flatbed started to lift up, cutting off my view.
I bit my lip, contemplated getting out for all of twenty seconds, and then bailed out the side door.
I also rammed the door into the car next to it…but really didn’t feel bad. That fucker had parked like shit. They were in a compact Corolla, and they had to park so close to the white line that it made it nearly impossible for somebody parked beside them to get out? Yeah, I wasn’t sorry in the least.
When I arrived at the back of the truck, I watched Parker’s forearms flex as he worked with some chain-like thing at the side of the truck.
He also had some box-like contraption in his hand that had buttons on it. I assumed that was what was controlling the flatbed, but honestly, I had never watched anyone operate a tow truck before.
Curious, I looked around to see what was going on.
We were in a parking lot now, and on one side of us was a Tractor Supply. The other side across the street was the Walmart where I’d just experienced one of the most embarrassing moments in my life.
Behind us was the Harley Davidson retailer, and just beyond that were a couple of fast food chains.
Directly in front of us, next to the Tractor Supply, was a beauty salon and a Jiu-Jitsu studio.
My eyes kept scanning the area, wondering if what we were doing was a sanctioned event, or a surprise ‘I’m taking your car’ event.
Based on the looks we were receiving, I wasn’t really sure.
“Is this a repossession?” I questioned Parker.
He looked up, caught my eyes, and winked. “Yep.”
“How did you know this car was here?” I questioned.
“Saw it from the road. The woman works in that hair salon there. Tried to pick it up yesterday, but she didn’t come to work,” he explained.
I bit my lip and nodded, my eyes returning to the beauty salon.
Based on the car itself, I’d deduced that it had to belong to someone in the beauty salon. It was a Kia Soul and had a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. Dice that were bright freakin’ pink.
I winced.
“How do you keep them from flipping out about their car getting towed?” I asked.
Parker opened his mouth to reply when a screech was heard over the drone of the winch that was towing the car up onto the flatbed.
I followed the sound, as did Parker, and blinked when a woman dressed in a bright pink smock came barreling out of the beauty salon toward us. What appeared to be the contents of the salon followed behind her which included smock-wearing women wielding curling irons, hair brushes, foil and a broom.
“It’s a lynch mob!” I cried, halfway joking, and halfway afraid it was the truth.
Parker wasn’t anywhere near as amused as I was.
His body was wired in anticipation, but he continued to do his job.
Seeing he was severely uncomfortable with the situation, I walked around the back of the truck where the car was almost in position on the flatbed and intercepted the women.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t get closer. It’s a hazardous situation, and it could be dangerous. You’ll have to wait here.”
The woman with the broom, who must’ve been the owner of the car, looked down at me with anger written all over her features.
“I’m sorry, but who are you?”
I grinned. “I’m Kayla.”
I was not giving her my last name. No way, no how.
“And do you work with him, Kayla?” The woman seethed, pointing the broom at Parker with an accusatory glare.
“Yes,” I said. “I do.”
“He’s stealing my car,” she sneered.
“Actually, we’ve been contracted for this pickup directly by the bank,” I countered.