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Accidental Kiss (Accidental Hook-Up 2)

Page 12

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“Would you mind, if I tried to take a crack at it?” He asked.

“Sure, be my guest.”

“My name is Clint by the way,” he said as he took off his plaid shirt to reveal a tight body in a white tank top.

“Oh, I’m Libby,” I said. I wasn’t sure he even heard me though as he approached the lug wrench and grunted a few times to get ready to work.

The young man (I would venture he was no more than twenty-three) grabbed the lug wrench, took a strong stance, and began to twist as hard as he could.

I couldn’t turn away. Every single muscle in his body was rigid and tight, all working together as if part of some beautiful symphony. He was grunting loudly as he stepped into it, slamming his foot harder on the ground as if summoning extra strength from some unseen force.

After about twenty seconds I was starting to lose hope. It was a spectacular show that I never would have missed in a million years, but I was starting to doubt the success of his valiant efforts.

But just when I was ready to suggest he quit so I could call AAA, the lug nut began to twist off. I couldn’t believe it. He moved from one nut to the next as quickly as you please. It was astounding.

When he was finished he continued with the process of removing the flat and replacing it with my spare. It took him only about ten minutes.

“Thank you so much for the help,” I said when he finished. “I would have been standing here for an hour probably waiting for triple A. I wish I had cash on me to pay you for your time.”

I felt silly offering him money, but it was something my mother would have yelled at me for not doing. It was part of my makeup now. I couldn’t help turning into my mother every now and then.

Clint smiled and waved the offer away. “No, don’t worry about it.”

He put his plaid shirt back on and then his sunglasses. They were black, almost like the kind police officers wore sometimes in the movies. You could see nothing behind them.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I was so grateful for the help.

“Yes. Save your money,” Clint said. Then he looked directly at me. “You are gonna need all of it to pay Scarlucci.”

My blood froze like ice in my veins. The words that had just left his mouth did not make sense. There was no room for them in the little world that Clint and I had just created. It was a safe, sweet world where there were still nice guys, real gentleman, who were always happy to help someone in need. That world existed. I refused to believe otherwise.

“What did you say?” I asked, speaking the words very slowly and deliberately.

Clint smiled. He removed the sunglasses. His eyes were even laughing now.

“I said, Scarlucci wants his money, or very bad things are going to happen to you. He is tired of dicking around with you.”

Clint’s voice was so sharp, so menacing. Gone was the charming country accent, the sweet dimples, the relaxed, outgoing smile. All of it was replaced with a man who was cold, dark, and very dangerous. I could sense the change in the air. It was like being sucked into some kind of a void and waking up somewhere you never would have gone alone.

“Get out of my sight!” I yelled.

It was my hope that if I maybe yelled louder, then I’d attract the right kind of attention.

Clint laughed. “Pay up soon.”

He walked slowly back to his car and drove away.

I stood there on the side of the road for several minutes reliving the horror of what had just happened. There was no way that one of Scarlucci’s guys just happened to be driving by to help me with my tire and deliver a cryptic warning to me afterwards.

No, I was being followed. For all I knew, one of them had intentionally damaged my tire just to play games with me. That’s what I was to them now--a play thing.

By the time I arrived at the school I was practically a nervous wreck. Everywhere I looked, I could swear that I saw one of Scarlucci’s guys following me. What was to stop them from just taking me out? They had to think I had the money or at least a way to get the money. But I didn’t. And all the threats in the world couldn’t change that.

I stumbled into the classroom where several of the kids were playing and waiting for class to begin. To my credit, I was only five minutes late. I wasn’t sure the kids even realized it; they were too caught up in their games.

It was going to be a rough day. I just had to stay busy and get involved in my job. Then I would put it all out of my mind. It was just some morons playing games, trying to scare me.



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