Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
I tossed my head back against the seat, then pointed to the exit ramp the Vette was barreling up on. “Just—Get off the interstate.”
With a groan, she jerked the wheel, skidding across the lanes to make the ramp. I couldn’t sell the thing, and part of me wanted just to ditch it on the side of some backwoods road, but then, Harford would get it back. There had to be a compromise. We wound our way through county roads until we came to a dead-end by Marvin Lake. Monroe glanced from me to the lake and back again.
“Put it in neutral,” I said, and she stared straight ahead, fingers curling around the leather steering wheel. “You stole it.” I opened the door and stepped out. “You sink it.”
“No...” She gave an adamant shake of her head. “No, Zepp.” There was a touch of heartache in her tone. And, I got it. Ruining a vintage car like this was damn near sacrilege—but I’d go to hell before I went to jail or let Harford have it back.
I rested an arm on the roof and leaned down to look at her through the busted window. “Either it goes into the lake, or we go to juvie.”
“Shit. Fine.” On a sigh, she got out and slammed the door so hard the entire thing rocked. She rounded the back, placing her hands on the shiny paint and throwing her weight into it. It didn’t budge. “Help me then!”
I slapped my palms over the trunk, forcing the vehicle forward. Leaves crunched, and twigs snapped underneath the wheels. Halfway to the bank, she stepped back.
“Oh, you done?” I mumbled.
Sweat beaded my brows by the time the front wheels dropped off the embankment. One, final shove and the streamlined nose made a splash. Water poured through the windows before the vehicle sank below the murky surface of the lake.
“Thanks for the help,” I said, glaring at Monroe, who stood at the bank’s edge, picking at her nails.
Her gaze swept over me. “Good to know the muscles aren’t for show.”
I fished my phone from my pocket to call Hendrix, but, of course, there was no service. We were in the middle of nowhere, a good thirty miles from Dayton. Without a car. And I had shit to do. A small spark of anger ignited inside me. Maybe this had been some type of therapy for her, but it was pointless. The Corvette was in the lake, we were stranded, and Max would end up with a new car anyway.
“You do realize his parents will probably buy him a new car before he can even miss that one.” I tossed my hands in the air. “But as long as you feel better.”
“Fuck you.” Her hands went to her hips. “It’s all I’m going to get because he’s not going to jail for trying to rape the local white trash.” She started through the tall grass toward the water.
She was right. I had beaten his ass, and I had found a little bit of justice with each swing of the bat, each crack of bone. I had done my damnedest to take away the scholarship he didn’t deserve, just like he would have gladly taken something from Monroe. But it didn’t make me feel any less guilty that I hadn’t found her two minutes sooner; it didn’t change anything about that night. And neither would her stealing his precious car.
I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket and lit it, watching Monroe come to an abrupt halt at the lake’s edge. She dragged a restless hand through her hair, shoulders hunched before she wrapped her arms around herself. I wasn’t a shrink, but any idiot knew: no matter how hard Monroe seemed, she was just a girl. One who had been put in a shit situation by shit people—the same people who looked at us like we were worthless scum, all because we didn’t have money. And there was the irony; morals didn’t mean shit. They didn’t mean shit to people who had money because money could buy a person’s way out. And they didn’t mean shit to us poor fuckers because we had to ignore them in order to survive.
I tossed the cigarette down, stomping it out before I crossed the long grass and stopped a few feet behind her, no idea how to handle this.
“Hey,” I placed a hand on her shoulder, then rubbed over her back. “You’re not about to freak out on me, are you?”
“I’m fine.” But the slight crack to her voice told me she wasn’t.
“We just sunk a fifty-thousand-dollar car in the lake, Roe…”
“At least he doesn’t have it, though, right?” A half-hearted laugh slipped through her lips. “Should have torched it on his driveway.”
That would have been better, but again, nothing either of us did would change what had happened. She knew that. I knew that...