Page 48 of The Truth about the Devlins
Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw the blur of a black Hyundai,theblack Hyundai. It sped away, but I got a clear view of its license plate.
HOK6253. I didn’t have to check my hand to know it was a match.
“Hey!” I took off, chasing the Hyundai in traffic. Cars swerved to avoid me. Horns blared. Drivers flashed me the finger. I kept running, but the Hyundai disappeared up ahead.
I stopped, breathing hard while cars moved around me. I turned, walked between the lanes, and went back to my car. I pulled on the handle, but the door didn’t open.
Mango was propped up on the door, screeching and screeching. The button on the door was down. I was locked out.
I reached for my phone to call for help, but it wasn’t in my pocket.
Then I heard it ringing.
Inside the car.
•••
I tried to flag down a driver who would let me use his phone to call for help, except even if I did, my phone knew my numbers but I didn’t. I didn’t know anybody’s number except my sponsor’s. I had AA, but not AAA.
Mango was freaking out inside the car. My phone was ringing, undoubtedly with a call from Maya. I was never going to make our date on time.
I kept waving my arms, but car after car passed me. I considered blocking traffic with my body, but people carried concealed these days.
Finally a Lexus driven by an older man stopped, and he lowered his window. “Is that acatmaking that noise?”
“I know, right?” I answered, validated. I noticed a garment bag hanging in his back seat. “Can I borrow a coat hanger?”
•••
I slipped into my driver’s seat, put Mango back inside the carrier, and zipped it closed. She kept howling, but I picked up my phone and saw two calls from Maya. I braced myself and called her back. “Maya, I’m sorry, but—”
“You stood me up.”
“I’m sorry, I can explain—”
“I sat there like a smacked ass.”
“I’m really sorry. What happened was—”
“Did you ever hear the saying ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them?’ Well, you showed me.”
“I have a good reason—”
“Are you bleeding from the head?”
“No, I got held up—”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“My phone was in the car.”
“So?”
“The cat locked me out.”
“Yeah, right.” Maya hung up.
Argh. I hung up and was about to set the phone down when I saw that Patrick had called, too, so I called him back. “Patrick—”
