Excerpt from SOUTHERN ROCKER BOY, releasing OCTOBER 17, 2014!!
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I headed out to my truck by ten-thirty. Before I could turn the key, I spotted someone across the parking lot kicking and screaming at a POS special with its hood up.
That someone was wearing ripped blue jeans and a hoodie.
I started the truck and drove slowly over to her section of the darkened, mostly abandoned parking lot. Most of the crowd, including those who were giving her the most grief, were all inside getting their buzz on, listening to the next act.
I rolled down my window as I got to her. “Having trouble?”
She whirled around to glare at me. When she saw my face she rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said as she turned around to the stalled vehicle.
I stopped the truck and slid out. “You may be fine but your car is on its last leg.” I glanced down at the engine, which looked to be about a hundred years old. “Let me give you a ride.”
She glanced me over with disdain. “Yeah, no thanks.”
“Fine, then how about a jump?”
“How about get lost?” she snapped. “Go play Boy Scout somewhere else.”
She was clearly pissed, but I would have been too after what happened after her gig. “I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” she spat.
“Look, I know it’s been a rough night…,” I started but she whirled around, a tiny, fiery bundle of fury.
“Do you understand English? Get lost!”
My blood started to boil. “Fine! Stay here all night. See if I care.” I turned toward the truck, but before I got to the driver’s side I stopped myself. She wasn’t angry with me, I tried to remind myself. I couldn’t very well leave her there, not with all the aggressive drunks who had tried to get at her in the club. They wouldn’t stop at no, and that was no kind of guy to run into in a dark parking lot. I took a deep breath before I turned back and walked over to the car.
Her eyes widened as I approached. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m helping you,” I told her before I circled her waist with my hands and lifted her away from her car so I could figure out what was wrong with it. “Too bad you’re too damned stubborn to see that.”
“Fuck you!” she spat, hissing at me like an angry cat.
I ignored her as I fiddled with the engine. I sidestepped her to climb inside and turn the key. Nothing. I got out, rounding to the front of the car to test the connections. Despite the ancient car, the battery was new. I retrieved my tools from my truck and within a minute her car fired to life. She stood staring at me, stupefied.
“Connection was loose,” I told her as I put my tools back in the box. “Shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”
I put the tool box back in the bed of the truck before I hopped in the cab and gunned my own engine. She walked, reluctantly, to my window. “Thank you,” she managed.
I looked her in those big doe eyes, which were a lot more contrite than angry. “You’re welcome.”
“I’d offer you money, but…,” she trailed off, looking embarrassed.
I held her gaze for just a minute longer before I said, “Don’t worry about it. Finding out you are a woman and not just a feral cat was payment enough.”
I left her sputtering behind me as I squealed out of the parking lot.
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