It Wasn't Me (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 2)

That wasn’t a complete lie.

And he wouldn’t be hurrying over here like a bat out of hell if he only knew part of the story.

“I’m about ten minutes away,” he said, sounding amused. “What happened?”

“Somebody was a little too far over, coming in my direction, when I came around a bend,” I admitted. “I thought it was better to go with the ditch rather than hitting him.”

“Did he stop to see if you were okay?” he asked, sounding miffed.

“No,” I mumbled, my eyes going out the windshield that wasn’t even cracked. “They drove off.”

And they had, the dicks.

There was no way in hell that they hadn’t seen what happened.

“Assholes,” Jonah muttered. “I had two hit and runs today.”

There had almost been three…

“All right. Well, I’ll see you when I get there, then we can go together to go get the dogs. Will you call them and tell them you might be a few minutes late?” he suggested.

I nodded.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I said softly.

And I could.

I was only hanging sideways while I would be doing it.

“All right. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Love you.”

Then he was gone, leaving me feeling a fluttering sensation in my chest.

My next call was to my mom.

“Hello?”

She sounded frustrated and short, and I bit my lip.

“Umm, is this a bad time?” I asked carefully.

“No,” she said. “I’m just frustrated with your father because he refuses to use his crutches. What’s up, baby?”

I brought my hand to my hair and scratched my scalp. “Do you think you could do me a favor and pick my dogs up and bring them to me? I’ll pay you back. I just…find myself in a bit of a pickle.”

“Of course,” she answered immediately. “Do you want me to just keep them at our place and then you can come get dinner or bring them all the way to you? I’m fine with either, but if I bring them to you, I’ll have to have someone else come get your father. Which…now that I think about it, I might be okay with.”

I snickered. “I’m okay with either, Mom. Whatever is easiest for you.”

I heard something said in the background, then my mother sighed.

“Your father wants to come with me. He wants to see Jonah’s place anyway,” she murmured. “We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

After saying our goodbyes, I once again tried to get myself free of the seatbelt only to find that I still couldn’t. The way all my weight was hanging on the buckle made it almost impossible to slip my hand into the crack. And when I pressed down on the button as best as I could, I still couldn’t quite push it in far enough to release the latch.

Which left me hanging there.

I wasn’t there for long, and Jonah definitely hadn’t been the ten minutes that he said he was going to be, because not even a minute later I heard the pipes of his bike turning off the main road and onto our road.

Ten seconds after that, I heard the pipes go from sedate to almost insane, and knew he’d spotted the Jeep.

Jonah’s worried face appeared in my front windshield about fifteen seconds later.

He was dressed in his uniform, and I licked my lips, completely turned on by it despite the situation I found myself in.

“Piper!” he cried out, finally reaching me.

I winced at the worry in his tone.

“What the absolute fuck?!” he cried out. “Why didn’t you tell me this had happened?”

Honestly? Because I didn’t want him driving how he was acting right this very second.

I’d also scared the shit out of him today, and I really didn’t want him to get hurt when I had the ability to control the situation.

“I’m okay,” I murmured. “I swear. I’m okay. I just can’t get the seatbelt unlatched because my fat thighs are pushing the buckle too close to the console. Can you help me out?”

He pulled out a knife, and I started to screech. “No, no! Just help me unbuckle it. I swear, all I literally did was tip over. The Jeep is fine. It was just at a really bad angle due to your tractor work. I swear it.”

He grumbled something to himself, then started to work his way in. Which, might I add, was quite hard seeing as I was in the way.

“If I hold you up slightly, can you press the button?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Let’s try it and see.”

So we did, and it did, indeed, work.

“Score!” I clapped.

He rolled his eyes at me, then helped me out of the Jeep.

I looked at my new Wrangler that I’d just purchased with his help last week, then winced.

“If this thing is dented, I’m going to be pissed,” I found myself saying.

“If you really did just roll over a bit, I bet the only thing wrong with it is the mirror,” he said. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Piper.”