Page 51 of Heresy

I didn’t mention it when I came running inside a few minutes ago. Maybe he saw me trying to start it?

With a nudge of his chin, he directs my stare out across the parking lot.

Already, there is a tow truck in the lot, orange lights flickering on its roof while the driver is attaching chains to my front end to pull the car up onto a flatbed.

“Damn, that was fast. I literally just got off the phone with them.”

Patrick gives me a one-shoulder shrug. “Guess you lucked out and won’t have to wait too long. You better run over there and make sure he’s got the right car.”

Why wouldn’t he have the right car? How many other cars can possibly be broken down in the parking lot tonight?

Waving goodbye to Patrick, I rush over just in time for the tow guy to hit a button, the wench engine grinding a little as the chains drag my car up onto the flatbed.

“Hey! That’s my car. I take it there was more than just a battery problem?”

The driver turns to me, and I take a step back to realize how handsome he is. Sure, he’s not the type of guy I would ever go for. Nothing about his beard, piercings, tattoos and wallet chain screamsafeto me, but his facial structure is perfect for the rough look, his body strong and chiseled beneath his plain white T-shirt and jeans.

His mouth pulls into a side grin.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I think this needs some time in the shop. It might be an overnight stay before we can diagnose the problem.”

These guys are really quick, apparently. He must have been driving by already if he had time to check the engine and start loading it while I was cleaning up in Granger’s bathroom.

I say as much, and dimples appear beneath his scruff when he smiles.

“All in a night’s work,” he answers. “Go ahead and jump up in the truck, and I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

It takes some muscle to lift myself up into the passenger seat, but I manage. The truck rocks and sways a little, some clanging occurring that I write off as the chains and locks he’s putting in place behind me.

Within two minutes, he climbs up to sit in the driver’s seat.

Before shifting the truck into gear, he turns to me.

“Where am I taking you?”

“I live at the college dorms nearby. Will that work?”

Another one of his charming smiles before he winks and says, “Sure thing. The shop should call you this weekend about your car.”

That makes me feel a little better about the whole thing. But it’s still annoying. I hate not having a car. There’s also the small problem of whether I’m going to be able to afford the repairs.

We pull out of the parking lot and are driving down the side street away from Myth when he speaks again.

“What’s your name?”

I’m so frustrated by the entire night that it doesn’t occur to me that he should already know that from when I told it to the woman at the auto shop.

“Brinley.”

Nodding his head, he bounces around in his seat when we hit a pothole.

“That’s a pretty name. Mine’s Priest.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Priest.”

Just as soon as the words roll off my tongue, I notice another set of orange lights coming toward us. They get closer and I watch as a second tow truck drives past, heading in the direction of Myth.

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