Page 74 of Rage's Heart

“And you’re blushing, which tells me everything I need to know.Brown Chicken Brown Cow.” She laughed, bumping my shoulder with hers.

My nose wrinkled. “I’m almost positive that’s not how it goes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Go home and enjoy that man. Some of us will be living vicariously through you.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Good night, Megan,” I sing songed.

The hospital corridors were quiet as I made my way toward the staff exit that led to the parking garage. The day shift had clocked in, fresh-faced and full of energy, while us night-shift zombies shuffled our way toward precious freedom. As I pushed through the doors, the cooler early morning air hit my face and gave me the tiniest boost of energy. Lord knew I needed it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out and smiled at the text from Rage.

Heading home? Dog’s been staring at the door for an hr

I typed back quickly as I walked.

Just leaving now. Tell our boy I’m bringing him treats

As I made my way to level three where my car was parked, I was mentally calculating how quickly I could get home if traffic cooperated. Seriously, I was exhausted and felt like I could sleep for a month.

Rounding the last corner, I stopped short.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

My front driver-side tire was completely flat, the rubber puddled against the concrete. I dropped my bag on the ground and crouched down to get a better look. There was something metallic sticking out from the sidewall. I ran my finger across it. It looked like maybe it was a nail or a screw.

“Perfect. Just perfect.”

I straightened, weighing my options. I could call Rage to come and fix it for me, but he’d just got home himself. Plus, it would take him at least twenty minutes to get here. There was always roadside assistance, but that would mean waiting who knows how long for them to actually show up.

Sighing, I pulled out my phone and called Rage anyway, knowing that if I didn’t, he’d be pissed and I’d never hear the end of it.

I listened as it rang twice and then went to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. I have a flat tire. I’m going to try changing it myself, so if you get this in the next few minutes, maybe you could talk me through it? Otherwise, I’ll figure it out. Love you.”

I hung up, staring at the traitorous tire.

Okay. You’re a capable, educated woman. You can handle this.

Walking around to the back of my car, I popped the trunk and pulled out the jack and tire iron. The spare tire was underneath a panel in the trunk floor.

“Loosen the lug nuts before jacking up the car,” I muttered to myself, remembering my brother’s instructions from a million years ago.

Crouching back down, I fitted the tire iron over the first lug nut and pushed. It didn’t budge an inch.

“Come on you little bastard,” I growled pushing again, this time with all my strength. And still the nothing.

“Come on,” I grunted, trying again, this time putting all my weight behind it, until finally, slowly, the damn thing turned. “Yes!”

I was halfway through loosening the third lug nut when the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

You know that feeling you get down in your gut when your Spidey-senses are screaming at you that something is way the hell wrong?

Yeah. I had that.

Slowly, I rose to my feet and glanced around the garage.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing off the concrete walls.

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