Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
And for the record … bacon is life.
You can’t convince me otherwise.
I do what I can to get them grants and stay on top of reporting that they are keeping to state standards. Lord knows they don’t need any more trouble.
When I finally get to my car to head home, it’s dark, it’s late, and I’m hungry! The drive from Kinston home up highway fifty-eight isn’t bad, other than the occasional deer in the fall that jumps out in the road. The quiet of the night only makes it feel like my car’s most recent knocking noise is louder than usual. I should probably get a new car. It’s not that I can’t afford it, I just don’t see a reason to.
This car was my grandmother’s and passed on to me for college. She’s seen better days, but she’s also like a best friend. I had my first date with my first love in this car. Alongside that, I had my first breakup and heart break in this car. She’s held all my secrets. She doesn’t judge me for the books I love to read because let me tell you audiobooks are second to bacon in life necessities. Little Red here doesn’t say a peep as we listen to book after book for mile after mile. Currently, I’m loving Liberty Parker’s Dreamcatcher MC series. This current one is steamy with a capital S.
“Yes, I’ll be your forever,” I tell the space around me. Give me a bearded biker, yes please, I can do this forever thing, you betcha.
I’m getting excited to get home. It’s going to be pajamas, snacks, my tablet to finish this one, and snuggles with Penny and Lilly, my dogs. Before I can plan anything else, there is a rattle, a shimmy, a thud, and a clank as my car dies.
Tossing my head back in frustration, I want to scream. It’s almost nine at night, on a Monday, when no one will be on this road, and I have no cell service either. Welcome to life in the country, truly I’m in the damn sticks.
“Come on baby, don’t die on me yet,” I try coaxing Little Red back to life as I turn the key.
There is a whine, I take a deep breath as she cranks back up. Whew. “A few more miles and I promise to get you serviced soon,” I tell the same lie to her that I’ve been saying for weeks.
I can’t even get her in drive before she dies again. I slam my hand into the steering wheel, “Seriously, fuck my life!”
Looking down to my phone, I turn it off and back on, hoping like hell I’ll get even one bar. I know I’m not far from Hadnot Creek and I’ll get reception there.
I love the country life, but this kind of shit is definitely the bad side to it.
All thoughts of finishing my book are gone as I feel the weight of the world crashing down.
Fact is, I’m going to have to get a new car.
Truth is, I don’t have the first clue as to what I really want.
I thought I wanted the Ford Bronco, but with the way I have to drive on field days, I don’t think it’s economical for the gas costs. I considered a Jeep, but again it’s the same thing cost wise on fuel.
If someone would have told me adulting would suck this much, I would have refused to sign up or something. Seriously, this shit is for the birds.
Sitting in the middle of the road, in the dark isn’t safe. Guess I’ll push it off the shoulder then walk until I can make a call. Hopefully one of my parents are home and can come pick me up. They don’t live too far away.
With Little Red in neutral, I exit the vehicle and get myself set up on the side using the driver’s door as leverage to push and still be able to steer. I’m making headway into getting her clear of the shoulder when I hear that sound.
The thunder.
Yes, that very rumble.
The one everyone around here knows.
The Hellions are close.
Releasing my grip on the steering wheel I throw my hands up into my hair in frustration. “Why me! I’m exhausted, I smell like a fucking hog farm. My car has rejected me in all my begging and pleading, and now of all times, the Hellions are riding through.”
The words come out of my mouth into the wind and are quickly muffled by the sounds of the bikes coming closer. I see the headlights facing me and realize there are only four of them.
Time freezes as the bikes slow down and then stop before turning around to come back to me.
This can’t be happening.
As soon as he’s close, I immediately recognize the bearded one from the coffee shop. He’s leading them as he takes off his helmet leaving his backward baseball hat in place.