Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“That shit is terrible for you.” My fingers tap on the steering wheel while I search for the most well-lit, busiest spot in the hopes I’ll be able to get a pump directly in front of the door. Between Rafe and the never-ending small video clips he sends me, I’m well equipped with everything a single woman could need: a mace, a hammer that can knock glass out and cut off my seatbelt, which also doubles as a weapon, and making sure to keep my keys threaded between my fingers. There’s also that whole keeping your head on a swivel, don’t remove anything from the outside of your car, and make sure your phone doesn’t pick up any kind of air tags or tiles.
“Says the man who drinks a pot of black coffee a day, before he hits the energy drinks. Do you even drink water?” I throw back at him.
“Gave up energy drinks. Not like we’ve got them at the ready where we are, sis.” That narrows it down to exactly five hundred locations, easily, and that's why I quit racking my brain to try to figure out where he is.
All I know is when he’s home, he’ll debrief a little bit, though he never goes in depth, only giving me enough, mainly which country he was stationed and the barest of reasons why.
“Do you need another care package?” I ask, worrying my bottom lip. It’s been a few months since I’ve sent him one, and I’ll do it again. But Rafe told me to hold off because he and his team were being moved elsewhere, and he said he’d let me know when they were settled. If you can even call it that. I’m already counting down the months till he’ll be stateside for at least a few weeks.
“Nah, Mox’s family has one on the way. You can send one to the next round. I might even put a few requests in.”
“Okay, now I’m at a loss for words.” I turn into the gas station, idling off to the side. It’s not every day I get this version of my brother. A lot of our calls are short, sweet, and to the point.
“That’s saying something, since you can keep going without taking a breath.” I hear a loud siren go off in the background, alerting me that our time is coming to an end, or that’s what usually happens.
“Yeah, yeah. Let me know whatever you need. I just got to the gas station. I’ll let you know when I’m in my hotel room for the night.”
“Thanks. Gotta go. Love you, sis.” Yep, I knew it. And while I hate that our conversation is coming to an end, I get it.
“Anytime. I love you, too. Please be safe.” We hang up at the same time. I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders, and go about my business, knowing full well I won’t be able to think about much else than my brother until he checks in again.
4
Sable
“Oh no.” I look down at my dashboard a little over an hour later, after taking care of gassing up, grabbing a large Diet Coke with extra ice, and, of course, using the facilities. Luckily, it didn’t take me long to get back on the road, but it also had my body groaning after a long day of traveling.
I’m tempted to call my brother, but the number he called me from earlier today was anonymous. Which means there isn’t a line for me to use, and I’m not using the emergency contact Rafe told me to use for any reason possible. Hello? That didn’t and still doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s called an emergency contact for a reason.
Luckily, I’m off the interstate after taking my exit and am heading directly into Whispering Oaks, when my temperature gauge heads in the direction of scorching hot. I think fast, rolling down my windows immediately and turning off the air conditioning while looking for the nearest mechanic shop in town.
“We can do it, Betty White, come on. Don’t fail me now,” I tell my SUV, aptly named after one of my favorite Golden Girls. She has yet to fail me in the nearly ten years I’ve owned her. She’s needed routine maintenance, oil changes, new tires, brakes, and the like, but she never did something like overheating.
I blow out a puff of air, exasperated with this day. I’m rethinking this whole damn trip, and not because of the newfound car trouble. It’s the whole boring-as-hell ride, the fact that it’s taken me longer due to my penchant for dilly-dallying along the way, and now look where it’s gotten me.
The town looks completely shut down, which means finding someone to look at my car this evening is going to be impossible. My built-in GPS on the display says I’m seven minutes away from the bed and breakfast I’m booked at for the duration of my stay. I’m muddling over what I should and shouldn’t do. Driving my car is definitely not a great idea, and while my temperature gauge has gone down and isn’t in the burning red-hot area anymore, I’m still well aware of the fact that if I keep pushing my luck, I’ll end up needing more than a repair—I’ll need a whole damn motor or vehicle.