Page 15 of Snowbound

What am I going to do now?

CHAPTER9

GABE

I’m seconds away from turning off the light when the phone rings.

Usually, I would ignore the phone. I’m not a great believer in talking on it.

But I have a different ringer set for my tow truck helpline, and the sound echoing through my house right now is that of someone in need. The very last thing I want to do right now is get out of bed, put on a coat, and head back out into the snow, but the next nearest guys who could help are miles away.

With a sigh, I fling off the covers and stalk down the stairs. I hope Carly’s asleep, or at the least, unbothered by the sound. It’s loud and annoying, but I’m sure she will understand the need for it.

I haven’t heard anything from her in a few hours, ever since I dropped off my mom’s old clothes in her room. It’s going to be weird seeing her wear them, but it’s not like my mom has any use for them anymore. I probably should have donated them after she and dad passed, but somehow I never got around to it.

I march to the kitchen and pick up my work phone. “Fox Motors, mechanic and tow truck. How can I help?” I answer in my very best customer service tone.

Phoebe is always telling me how I need to learn how to deal with customers better, and I’m always telling her that I’ve dealt with customers this way my whole life, and they’ve never complained yet.

I’m not here to be their friend. I’m here to rescue their cars.

Down the line, a woman sniffles.

“Gabe?” comes a familiar voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“Carly?” I splutter. “Why are you calling? Aren’t you upstairs? You could have just come and got me if you wanted me.”

“I’m not upstairs.” Her voice is thick with tears. Clearly, she was crying a lot before she called. “I took your truck.”

“You didwhat?”I explode.

She swallows thickly. “You have a business card in the cup holder, and I called the number. That’s how I knew to call you.”

I clench my fist, seething in rage. “Where are you now?”

“I’m not sure. Hold on.” I hear a rustling. Presumably that’s her looking on her phone so she can try and get some semblance of a GPS signal. “I’m at the intersection between Williams Street and Ford Road. There was a deer. It jumped out, and I got so scared, and then I spun and spun, and now I’m stuck in a snow drift, and I can’t get out.”

“Why do you have my truck?” It’s taking everything I have not to yell at her more. She’s clearly scared and afraid, so that wouldn’t help, and from the way she’s crying, she definitely feels guilty enough about doing it.

“My meeting,” she says so quietly I can barely hear it. “I wanted to get to my meeting. I thought that maybe I could drive and get there tonight, and I don’t know, find some way to get your truck back to you tomorrow. I thought it would all be okay.”

“What if I needed it tomorrow? What if I’d had an early job? What if you crashed badly and ruined my income as well as yours?”

“I’m so sorry,” she sniffles. “I don’t think it’s damaged. I just can’t dig myself out, not on my own.”

“I brought you into my home, and you’ve stolen from me.”

She lets out another sob instead of apologizing again, and I take a harsh breath. Never in my life have I met someone so rude and ungrateful as her. And that’s saying something because most people would call me pretty rude.

At least I have a sense of honor and right and wrong. I wouldn’t have stolen someone else’s vehicle, not like this.

If I was as mean as people say, I would leave her out to freeze and bar my door, forbid her from coming back. Force her to work it all out herself because if what I’m giving her isn’t enough, she sure as hell isn’t taking any more advantage of it.

But much as it pains me, I do know what’s right and wrong, and what’s wrong is leaving a beautiful woman out in the middle of the worst snowstorm I’ve seen in years, even if she stole my truck and crashed it.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I huff and slam the phone down before she can reply.

Hopefully she’s smart enough to keep the engine on and sit there in the warmth until I get there. If it was just a deer, she probably slid on ice, and now she’s panicking. I have a shovel in the back and the truck’s four-wheel drive. That thing is designed to cope with weather like this.

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