Page 5 of Link (Dragon Riders MC 1)
However, even I was getting fed up with how time-consuming the repairs on this thing were becoming.
“Come on!” I shrieked.
I turned over the engine. Or at least tried. I cranked it, again and again, with no sound hitting my ears. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I drew in ragged breaths as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I threw my entire body into cranking that damn engine. As if the effort I put into the crank itself might fill this rusted piece of metal with the energy it needed to go five more miles.
Just five more fucking miles.
I ripped my keys out of the ignition and popped the hood. I slipped out of the car, my heels touching down against the pavement. There wasn’t a car in either direction coming for me, despite being on a main road that ran through town.
Then again, it was ten at night on a Sunday evening.
No one was going anywhere in this place until morning.
“All right. Let’s see why you’ve decided to be a diva,” I murmured.
I hunched beneath the hood and pulled my phone out of my bra. I turned on the flashlight and searched around for the first three things my father always taught me to look for.
Smoke, leaking, and cracks.
I didn’t see either, though.
“Of course, this would happen to me while I’m wearing a pencil skirt and heels,” I murmured.
Had I been in literally anything else, I would’ve simply walked home. Five miles wasn’t that bad for someone like me who ran four miles every morning before work. The walk might have even been refreshing, especially with the cool breeze wafting against my back. But in heels? My blisters would have blisters by the time I got home. And there was no telling what I might step on or how many times I’d stub my toe if I walked barefoot.
In a damn pencil skirt.
“Note to self: put a change of clothes in the car.”
I checked the connections to my car’s battery, but nothing was wrong. They weren’t corroded or insulated with anything. So, the current was open. I flipped open the fuse box and made sure all of the fuses were snuggly and in place. Because a loose fuse in anyone’s car could make it go wacky. I reached my arm down between all of the wires and tubes, trying to see if I could reach the alternator. Because if that damn thing was stuck, one good pound with my fist might dislodge it.
“Just one more inch,” I grunted.
I wiggled my fingertips, but they only brushed against the damn thing. Tears crested my eyes again as I saw my phone flashlight slipping. I ripped my hand out, catching it against something sharp. And as the fabric of my black blouse tore, blood rose to the surface.
“Are you serious right now!?” I exclaimed.
My phone clattered to the ground as a tear dripped down my cheek. I was tired. I was fed up. And all I wanted to do was be home already. I wanted a nice, hot shower. I wanted a mug of apple cider while I worked. I wanted to fall asleep at my kitchen table like I’d done so many times before, content with the work I was doing.
Yet, here I was. Crying like a pussy on the side of the road because my car wouldn't start.
“Will someone have mercy on me? Please?” I choked out.
As if the heavens heard my plea, I heard a rumbling sound in the distance. I reached for my phone beneath my car and scooped it up with my bleeding arm. I quickly stood to my feet and waved the light around, hoping that the approaching person might have enough pity to stop and help.
And as the motorcycle pulled up behind my car, I sighed with relief.
“Oh, thank God. Hi. Hi there. I, uh, do you by any chance have jumper cables? Or, any knowledge of ca—”
My flashlight illuminated the sparkling bike as the man put his kickstand down. And the second he stood, I almost swallowed my tongue. Holy shit, the man was massive. I mean, broad-shouldered and strong-jawed, with a mean look in his eye. He easily stood six feet tall. Probably a few inches beyond that as well. And as my hand slowly lowered to my side, his eyes hooked with mine.
His bright, blue, luminescent eyes.
“Everything all right here?” he asked.
His voice felt like warm butter being poured over my body. It was as deep as the well of his glorious eyes. His raven black hair matched my own, both in color and in thickness. He came to stand in front of me, with my neck craned back to keep him in view.
My brown eyes reflected back at me in his blue pools of comfort.
“Uh, I—I just…”
He grinned. “Dead car?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Won’t even make a sound when I turn it over.”
