Page 83 of Just My Luck

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Page 83 of Just My Luck

Half-hearted cheers echoed through the distribution center. I helped shut down equipment and tidy up before flipping off the warehouse lights.

A hand landed on my shoulder. “Abe, a few of us are heading to Remy’s for a beer. You in?”

Behind him a cheer rang out. “Let’s fucking go!”

I shook my head. “Count me out tonight.” Sandpaper coated my eyelids as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I just wanted to collect my check and go home. It was no secret that this job was simply a means to an end.

“If you say so.” My faceless employee glanced at his watch and scoffed. “See you in five hours.”

My teeth ground together. This job was fucking killing me.

In the parking lot, I waved over my shoulder to the men leaving the warehouse and climbed into my truck. I exhaled as the engine turned over and rumbled to life. The shine of my headlights seared into my brain, and I groaned against the sharp light.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward home. The highway was desolate and eerily quiet. I yawned and adjusted in my seat. My eyes burned.

Shaking off another yawn, I rolled down the driver’s-side window and took a gulp of the fresh predawn air. I glanced out the windshield into the inky sky—not a star in sight.

Highway 131 rolled past me. I stared at the lines as they morphed from four lanes to a rural two-lane highway. Every mile was closer to home. To my bed.

I eased into the seat and adjusted my grip on the wheel as music droned in the background. My tires created a rhythmic thump as I rolled down the road.

My head jerked.

A flash of light.

I yanked the wheel to the right to avoid it.

My body crumpled as I felt the weight of the impact.

The shrieking groan of twisted metal filled my ears.

I bounced as my truck swerved, and I struggled to maintain control. Finally, the front bumper slammed against the ditch, and my body flung forward at the sudden stop. Pain radiated through my shoulder, and my mind raced to catch up to what had just happened.

Lights flashed in my dashboard, and the smell of chemicals floated on the night air as plumes of thick smoke rose from beneath the hood of my truck.

With a groan, I unbuckled. My shoulder was certainly fucked—I could barely unbuckle my seat belt. It took considerable force to push the door open, and when it finally gave, I tumbled to the ground.

The dirt and gravel bit into my knees as I tried to orient myself. When I looked up, desperately trying to figure out what had happened, I saw it.

A small blue car on my side of the highway.

Upside down.

One wheel spun as I stared.

I got to one knee, then pushed myself to standing. Black tire marks marred the surface of the highway. To my right, I saw her.

A woman’s body was askew in the grass. Her face tipped toward the full moon. Her long hair fanned out around her head and was already matted with blood. When I reached her, my knees buckled.

Sloane.

This isn’t right. No. This isn’t how it happened. Please, no.

“Sloane! Fuck. Please. No. No, no, no, no, no.” Afraid to touch her, my hands hovered over her broken body.

The woman I loved stared up at me, a tear slipping from her eye. Her voice was barely a whisper as she rasped, “Please. Save them. Please.”

My gut churned.




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