“That’s weird…” Maybe he was actually busy with something? Or asleep? It was after ten p.m. I looked down at the screen, brows knitted. Come on, pick up.Īgain, it went to voice mail-but faster this time, almost like he had declined my call on purpose. Instead, I called again, blowing out a frustrated breath as I waited. It rang through and clicked to his voice mail. Impatiently, I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel.

I tapped his number on my contact list and waited for the phone to ring. So, I was left with one option-call Colin. I’d rather keep my brains inside my skull, thank you. It was no secret this was one of the sketchier parts of town, and I didn’t want to go interrupting some behind-closed-doors drug deals or whatnot. And I wasn’t about to go knocking on any doors. I looked around the neighborhood, but it was already pretty late in the evening-there was no one out on the street to ask for help. I said a little prayer every time I got behind the wheel of the thing, and apparently, my prayers had run out. It was my own fault for buying a seven hundred dollar used car, which was basically like buying a seven hundred dollar ticket to a flaming shitshow. “Come on… don’t do this to me, you stupid piece of crap!” I fumbled with the dials, but to no avail. I gave the radio another bang, and this time it just went dead. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! Thanks for that reminder.” I was well aware of the terrible state of the world, but I didn’t need any more reasons to be full of rage right now. The radio turned to static, and I had to give it a bang to get it to work again. Besides, I really didn’t want to leave my car abandoned on the side of the road. I made it over a small rise and then leaned forward in the seat as the car rolled gently down the slope on the other side, praying I could build up enough momentum to keep the vehicle in motion.Īfter standing on my feet all day, the last thing I wanted to do was walk home. I pressed harder on the gas, but the piece-of-shit scrap metal clunker I called a car was rapidly losing steam. “Just a few more blocks and we’ll be home, sweet home.” “Come on, baby, don’t you dare give up on me now.” I rubbed the dashboard of my old clunker as it rattled down the street. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or had, or actual events is purely coincidental.įor updates on my upcoming releases and promotions, sign up for my reader newsletter! I promise not to bite (or spam you). Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Fallen university by callie rose