A Very Venom Christmas - Kristine Allen Page 0,4

nervous.

“Well, I can assure you I have no idea why they would feel that way. I’m a law-abiding citizen, Officer Edwards.” Giving him a saccharine sweet smile, I stepped back.

He moved forward again and dipped his head to speak softly. “If you wanted, I might be able to convince them that you weren’t any kind of threat, Ms. Barnes. I mean, if you wanted to work something out.”

Not a chance in fucking hell.

“I think I’ll be just fine, Officer Edwards. You have a nice night. And be careful on those roads. They’re getting nasty.” With an exaggerated wave, I stepped around him and got into my car. Since he still blocked the front of my car, I backed away from the pump. As I pulled out onto the road, I was so damn tempted to flip him off.

But I refrained—because law-abiding citizen and all.

“Ughhhhhh!” I roared in frustration as I drove away. The flakes were coming down wet and heavy by then, and I had my wipers on high to keep my windshield clean. “It’s not even really winter yet! Fucking ridiculous,” I muttered. At least back in Texas, it wasn’t winter.

You’re not in Texas anymore, Toto.

I’d made it halfway across town when I lost traction and started to slide.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I exclaimed as my heart pounded and I hit the brakes. Too late, I remembered that was the wrong thing to do. The car careened sideways and corrected, but then I slid again and went right off the road. The seat belt locked, and I jerked forward before the airbag slammed me back when I hit the light pole. My car died, and I sat there stunned for a few seconds.

“Ahh!” I shouted as I shoved and slapped at the airbag to get it out of my face as it deflated. Slowly, my panic ebbed. It was quickly replaced with frustration.

“Oh, come on!” I groaned at the hissing sound that suddenly registered with me. After several attempts to get my car to start, I gave up and laid my head on the steering wheel. “Fuck. My. Life.”

Braving the heavy wet snow, I popped the hood and got out. There were two problems with that, though. One, I couldn’t get the hood to open because it was jammed after hitting the light pole. Two, even if I’d been able to get it open, I wouldn’t have had a freaking clue as to what to check.

Looking around, I realized that par for the shitty course of my life, the only reason I’d gone off the road was because I’d happened to hit the driveway into the cemetery and then went along the sidewalk. If I’d lost control anywhere else along the road, I would’ve hit the curb and likely been okay.

My head hung as I dropped my hands to my knees and fought the urge to vomit or cry. I seriously couldn’t afford for something like this to happen. Not only couldn’t I afford a tow, I couldn’t afford the repairs, or worse, a new vehicle, which was more likely. Yet I also couldn’t afford to be without a vehicle. I delivered pizzas, for Christ sake. I couldn’t do that on foot.

“Why, God? Why do you keep raining utter shit down on me? Was my stupidity at eighteen not enough? I’ve paid for my mistakes, haven’t I?” Crying won out, and a sob escaped me. Once I half-assed composed myself, I took a deep breath.

“Okay, Loralei. Get your shit together. What are you going to do? Shit, I’m talking to myself. Great.” I rolled my eyes in self-condemnation and hurried back into my car, out of the wind.

Tow truck? Out of the question. I’d have to hope it didn’t end up in impound before I could get someone to help me tow it back to my place. Great plan if I knew someone with a damn truck.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Calling the cops was out of the question. No way. Not that I’d had any real issues since my move, but I didn’t trust cops. They all only saw one thing. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled out my cheap-ass phone.

I must’ve looked at the clock fifteen times. Each time, I questioned if it was too late to call her. I could start walking, but it was cold, and I hadn’t exactly dressed for it since I’d planned on minimal outside exposure.

“Ugh!” I grumbled. One last glance at my phone, and I hit send on Ms. Margaret’s number. It rang several times