Perfect Bastard (Mason Creek)

“What happened—happened years ago. Still… all this time…”

My phone signed another call. “Sorry, Haley. That’s dispatch. I have to take this.”

“Yeah. Okay. Call me back.”

Though I agreed, my night only got worse. There was a nasty pileup on I-90 I was called to help clear up. Hours later, hungry and cranky, I was driving home. I couldn’t stop for food as most of the local places were dark. People had gone home to hunker down.

I rounded a bend and caught sight of a stranded car. As I hadn’t been called in for it, I didn’t have to stop. Hopefully, the driver had already called for a tow and that wasn’t me. But that wasn’t how we did things in Montana. Sighing heavily, I pulled up beside it. We were heading in opposite directions, so I rolled the window down and said, “Not smart driving a white Porsche in a snowstorm.”

That didn’t stop Nate’s cheeky grin.

FIFTEEN

Nate

After Aiden and I finished our beers, we went out back to the garage. It was in the style of a barn, so I slid one door to the side and there she was.

I’d replaced Dad’s Ford F250 with a new one not long before Mom had passed. Since Dad’s decline, it had sat and sat. Now it was covered with a fine layer of dust as I used the fob to unlock it. Only nothing happened.

“Just like I thought. The battery is dead,” I complained.

“I’ll pull my car around and give you a jump,” Aiden offered.

He disappeared, and I wiped a layer of dust off the hood. “Oh, Dad,” I said out loud. I hated the idea that he wasn’t the robust man I’d worshiped as a child.

When I heard the rumble of Aiden’s truck, I used the key to unlock the driver’s side door. I reached in and popped the hood. I had it up by the time Aiden got into position.

He pulled jumper cables from a toolbox in his flatbed. Five minutes later, Dad’s truck still wouldn’t start.

“Give it a bit more time. It’s been, what, two years parked?” Aiden asked.

“About that,” I said. But fifteen minutes later, I waved Aiden off. “I need to get a new battery.”

Aiden checked his phone. “I would help, but it looks like I’ve been called in. We’re short with a few people calling out sick. I can come by later.”

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

He left, and I went inside. I made a few calls to see who might have a battery that was compatible with Dad’s truck. I found someone with one in stock out past Billings.

The skies were clear. I thought I had time, so I checked on the work crews first. It wasn’t until late in the evening I heard about the snow. It was now or never. I had to get Dad and couldn’t be sure the roads would be clear enough for me to drive the Porsche. I left, hoping I’d make it home with the three-hour round trip before the worst of the storm hit.

I was only a couple of miles shy of the ranch in blizzard-like conditions when I hit a patch of ice and the car spun out. My phone flew from the passenger seat somewhere as I tried to regain control. The Porsche landed in a snow mound on one side of the road, likely made by a plow truck who’d come through earlier.

A slew of curses left my mouth as I took stock of my situation. My car wasn’t completely out of the road, and it was white. Why hadn’t I bought a red one?

My tires spun, but there was no movement forward. I hit the wheel with a fist, cursing my life.

I was searching from my phone when headlights filled my windshield. A truck—and it turned out to be a tow truck to boot. I couldn’t believe my luck as it slowed down and pulled to a stop beside me.

“Not smart driving a white Porsche in a snowstorm.”

There was no stopping my grin. Avery was a beautiful savior, and I welcomed even her insults. “I got you to stop and take notice of me.”

Her eyes thinned to slits. “I’ll be leaving now,” she said.

“Wait,” I begged. I was beyond desperate.

“Use your phone and call someone else.”

As I shook my head, I said, “I lost my phone when the car spun out.”

Her eyes drifted from mine to the car to assess if my words were true. She seemed to deflate when she realized she was my only hope. “Fine. But I’ll have to bill you double the overtime rate, which is standard in the storm.”

“I’ll pay whatever.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get the truck in position. Then I’ll need you to exit your vehicle.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Once I get in position, you can get in my truck and wait.”