Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Just my luck,” I mutter, the urge stinging my eyes.
“Well, your car definitely isn’t going anywhere. Let me take ya’ll to the hospital and I’ll get a tow truck out here—”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll take care of it.” I’ve been caring for Paige and me on my own, since I left Cam and I’ve become stronger and wiser for it. Some would even say stubborn. Cam is Paige’s father, and my ex-husband.
His chest rises with a hard inhale; he’s not pleased with my independence.
Silence falls between us, cars starting to honk impatiently, wanting us to move the wrecked cars off the highway, so they can pass.
He smiles, his chest silently shaking as if he’s laughing at me.
“What’s so funny, because this,” I point to my car and then Paige, “isn’t anything to laugh about!”
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Refusing to let others help you when you clearly need it?”
“I don’t need your help!” I can feel my cheeks becoming hotter by the second, anger mounting inside me.
“Clearly,” he remarks with amusement. I’m so over this guys. I need to get him out of my face and take Paige to the hospital. Then get to the house and meet the movers. I go to my car and search for my phone to put in his information.
“Mom, can I get out?” Paige asks, sitting up in her seat. Her cheek still bleeding.
“No, there’s traffic everywhere, just sit tight for now.”
She groans and slumps back in her seat, in silent protest. I’ll deal with her later. I find my phone under my seat then walk back over to Mr. Ryan Phillippe, who can’t seem to take anything seriously.
“So, my name is Rain Adler,” I start, hoping to get him off the idea of taking us to the hospital.
“Rain, that’s a pretty name.” I still, our eyes locking again, and he’s being genuine. Shaking myself from staring too long , I clear my throat.
“My name is Heston Thayer. Let me take you to the hospital.” My hands drop to my sides. He just won’t give this up. First, he’s overly calm and then poking fun at me, and now, he’s being kind. I can’t make up my mind how to feel about him.
“Your car isn’t in the best shape either,” I gesture toward the smoking SUV, wondering if he forgot he was part of this wreck.
“Nah, she’ll get us there.”
“Mom, I don’t feel good,” she sobs. Shit, I really need to get her looked at. Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need his help. But he needs to understand that I’m not making this easy on him, not the least bit. He hurt my kid, and my car.
“Fine, you can take us to the hospital. I’ll call a tow truck on the way,” I finally give in.
I open Paige’s door and see that she’s still holding the rag on her cheek. From the color of the cloth and all the blood soaking in, it looks more like a purple rag.
“Come on, he’s going to give us a ride to the hospital.” I help her out, noticing the powder from the airbag sticking to her hairline and arms it makes her look in worse shape.
Paige doesn’t say anything as we slowly walk toward the SUV, keeping my arm around her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t fall. Opening the back passenger door for Paige, she boosts herself up and climbs into the back seat, resting her head on the headrest. A somber pull at her natural beauty, she places the rag back on her cheek and glances at me with a forced smile. Pulling my gaze from hers, I get into the passenger seat and shut the door. It’s very clean in here, the dash shiny, and floorboards without a speck of dirt. The leather seats polished and without wear. I’d think he just drove it off the lot, if it weren’t for the steering wheel. The sides are worn and ragged from driving, pieces of it tattered. The smoke dancing around his hood and into the cab catches my attention, and my brow rises. Is he sure he can even drive this the way it is?
He slides into his seat and shuts his door, his hands resting on the steering wheel.
“You sure you don’t need a tow truck?” I ask him, gesturing to all the smoke.
“Nah, I can fix it,” he insists, a bit of arrogance in his tone. He has to crank it twice before it finally starts then he glances over his shoulder before he pulls into traffic. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I hold it tight. Being in a strange man’s car is scarier than I imagined. Not wanting him to sense I’m uneasy, I Google a local tow truck company to come and get my car. They pick up on the first ring and I quickly give them the location and condition of my car. They assure me they’ll handle it and they’re on their way. It took a whopping five minutes to get that settled, and now I’m left sitting next to a man I don’t know anything about. Awkward silence fills the cab as the three of us sit confined in one small space, which causes my heart to race for a different reasons than just being in an accident.