Page 14 of When to Call a Blitz

Heidi turns, her eyes widening as she realizes who I am.

“Not going to run from me today?” she scoffs, turning back around with an eyeroll.

Deciding not to answer her, I take a look at her tire. It’s totally shredded, the smell of burning rubber instantly hitting me like a brick wall.

“What the hell did you do to this thing?”

Heidi wraps her arms around her, her lips instantly drooping into a frown. “I was just trying to make it to the gas station up the road,” she says quietly.

“Do you have a spare tire?”

Her green eyes meet mine, her hair matted to her head as the clouds open up on us, the rain pouring down harder. “Does it look like I have a spare tire?” she asks, gesturing to the car.

I look it over. It does not, in fact, look like it would be carrying a spare tire. In fact, I’m pretty sure that now that I’m getting a closer look, it’s missing a driver’s side door handle.

I close my eyes, throwing my head back.

“Come home with me,” I tell her, turning to head back to my car.

Heidi scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me? You pull up here like you’re some type of fucking Prince Charming to save me? Emmett you were literally running from me the other night.”

My shoulders stiffen. “Are we really going to do this?” I ask her, annoyance growing within me.

Heidi looks from her car to me, and just when I’m about to turn around and head back to my truck, leaving her in the rain, she turns, her head hung low, and walks to my passenger-side door.

“Do we need to call someone to get your car?” I call out over the heavy thrum of rain hitting the pavement, my clothes now soaked completely.

“They’re already here,” she says so quietly I could barely hear.

Looking behind me, I watch as the tow truck pulls up to her car, a large, burly man stepping out into the rain as he pulls his trucker hat tight to his head.

“This your car?” he yells.

“Yep,” I respond, and when I realize that Heidi is rounding my truck once more, I wave her off. Her eyebrows shoot up as she looks between us, but she listens.

The man watches her get into my vehicle. “I assume the lady was driving this? I swear women have a way of fucking up them cars.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, my body feeling suddenly hot.

“If it weren’t for women I would probably be out of a job,” he rolls his eyes, inspecting the damage.

“If it weren’t for women, you wouldn’t exist,” I snap at him. “If you knew what was best for you I’d load this car up and be on your way.”

The man looks astonished, as if he’s never had anyone speak up to him before, which wouldn’t shock me. The shit I’ve heard men feel comfortable enough saying around me makes me feel sick, and it only takes one flip of the wrist to fix the behavior. We see it in our rookies all the time.

You correct it once and most of the time they learn.

“How much?” I grit through my teeth, not wanting a dime of Heidi’s money going to this idiot.

The man sputters, at a loss for words. “Three hundred,” he finally manages to say.

After getting him situated with a check, I climb into my truck, ready to just be home.

Heidi and I sit in awkward silence for several moments before she turns, propping herself against the door. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“Yeah. Where do you need to go?” I ask simply. It’s nothing.

“Today’s just been a really, really shitty day.”

---