Page 12 of Blood
She clears her throat, and I peek over as she forces a serious expression. “That’s horrible, Samantha. You should be ashamed, and your license should be cut up.”
My lips twitch at hearing my own words from a year ago echoed. Clearly, my girl has been talking.
“You ever gonna get over it?” Sam whispers, leaning closer.
“No.”
I loved that fucking car.
“You still love me?”
I don’t answer, too busy concentrating on maneuvering the large vehicle out onto the main road. My heart jumps when Sam rests her chin on my shoulder.
Once we’re safely out and on our way, I give in. “You know I do, you little brat.” Lifting my right hand, I cradle her head and press a kiss to her temple while keeping my eyes on the road.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kaleb
The offices at the truck headquarters are a welcome sight. If I’m not out on the road, I’m working here.
“Can we wait in your car?” Sam asks as we walk into the main building.
“If you want, but it’s probably going to be warmer in here,” I warn as I wave to Pauline, our overnight manager.
Why didn’t I think of her earlier when I was rushing home? Or call the sheriff?Because I wanted to kill those responsible.
Being back in the office reminds me that a good release isn’t the only thing I didn’t get to do while out of town.
“I need to make a call. Go annoy Pauline.”
“I prefer to annoy you,” Sam sasses, giving me a mischievous smile.
“I know,” I tell her, knocking under her chin.
Little shit. My little shit.
We share a smirk, but after a few minutes, Sam spins on the spot and does as she was told, dragging Shelby with her.
I watch as they disappear into the office across from me before slipping into mine. The minute the door is closed, my smile drops.
The whore in the woods had been my plan for tonight, but I had somewhere to go before coming home.
Digging my cell out of the pocket of my pants, I cringe. I’m already not in the mood for this asshole. Watching through the internal window, I see the girls perch themselves on Pauline’s desk. The older woman points at the radio system we use to communicate with our drivers and says something. Both their faces light up. You’d think they were twelve, not twenty-two and twenty-three.
The sight relaxes me, and I make the call. He picks up on the fourth ring.
“This is Dr. Brown.”
“It’s Kaleb Cromwell.”
“Oh.”
I hear shuffling and a door close before he talks again.
“Why are you calling me?” he spits. “If anyone finds out, I could lose my license.”
So fucking dramatic.I roll my eyes.
