Page 10 of Dare You to Run
No, this man is definitely not your average small-town tow truck driver. He’s the kind of man your daddy greets with a shotgun.
I know my dad would.
THREE
I pullup to where Kinsley’s old blue truck sits on the side of the road and notice someone in the cab with her. I also notice the shiny silver BMW kissing a light pole. The truck door opens and Kinsley hops down with a giant smile on her face. Typical Kins.
I bring my truck to a stop and climb out, dust clouds rising from where my boots touch down, and swagger around the front. The passenger door opens and long brown hair swirls when a gust of wind blows by. The sun shines in my eyes and I lose track of her. I shield my hand over my eyes and watch as the spots clear and my vision returns. And when it does, I almost wish I could be blinded by the light again.
Bright green eyes meet mine and I watch the black shrink, the green saturating her wide orbs. Lips, plump and pink, slowly part and stretch into a shy smile. A small bead of sweat drips down from her collarbone to the valley between her breasts and I gulp and quickly move my eyes back to meet hers. The ones that slowly peruse my body from head to toe.
“That yours?” I ask her.
She blinks and replies, “Huh?”
“The car. Is that yours?” I jut my chin towards the sleek car and her head slowly follows.
I see her face scrunch in torment then turn back to face me. “Yes. Well, my mom’s, but I’m driving it.”
I give her one quick nod and walk over to where it sits. The right rear fender is caved in from where the pole stopped it and the wheel sits a little askew. The tail light is cracked, but it’s an easy fix and I can get a replacement piece from the dealer in the next town. The most concerning problem is the possible damaged rear frame rails and any electrical issues that will be a result.
I stand up from my squatted position and wipe my hands on my jeans. “Let me get this hooked up. My shop isn’t far and Kins can drive you there. You got a place you’re staying at?”
She squints in the bright sun and kicks at the dirt. “Um, well no. I was on my way home so this was just a pass through.”
I look at her neatly manicured nails and the rings that adorn her fingers. On her wrist sits a pricey watch and gold bracelet with inset diamonds right next to it. I know that the two of those items alone could buy her a pretty nice car. It’s obvious this girl comes from money and this spoiled brat just wrecked her mom’s ninety thousand dollar luxury car, and they’ll probably just turn around and buy another like they’re replacing the sheets on their fucking bed.
“Well you may want to call mommy and daddy and tell them to send the private jet, because this is going to take at least two weeks.”
“Excuse me,” she whines and crosses her arms over her chest. “Private jet? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug. “It means that if your britches are too big for this little town, you might want to have your parents send the butler to pick you up. We’ll ship the car home when it’s done.”
“You don’t know me. Don’t make assumptions about things you don’t know. I called you to tow my car, not to be judged by a guy who looks like he bathes in a bucket of dirt and worms.” Her arms fall to her side and her hands ball into fists.
She takes a couple steps closer to me and I can see her nostrils flare and those beautiful bright eyes grow dark. Kinsley winces just over her shoulder and I’m sure she’s thinking if this girl only knew who she was talking to.
“You should take your own advice. Don’t make assumptions sweetheart.” I stride past her, bumping her on the shoulder as I go, and hop back into my truck.
The loud diesel engine still runs so all I see is the pretty young thing griping to Kins, no doubt about me and my surly attitude. I don’t make excuses as to why I’m so pissed at the world, obviously people around here know, but I won’t apologize to this little brat.
I maneuver my truck around the back end of the car, working it until I get the right angle. I lower the boom and position the brackets to slide under the tires. Sweat drips down my back and I can feel the girls watching me as I work.
It’s only March, but in the south, the weather runs a little differently. What is categorized as spring in other parts of the country is early summer here in Mississippi. Then, when the rest of the country is enjoying nineties at the peak of summer, we’re sitting on hell’s front porch. So a little sweat elsewhere is a sopping mess here which means I’m going to have to change my shirt at the very least.
It takes me a good thirty minutes to get everything hooked up and ready for me to winch it in. I stand up and wipe the sweat from my forehead with my forearm and turn to where the ladies stand. The eyes of the girl whose name I failed to get, focus on the spot where my t-shirt has ridden up and exposes my stomach that is covered with tattoos. Most of me is covered with tattoos.At this point only about ten percent of my body is untouched by ink.
Her eyes trail up my body and meet mine, and her cheeks stain pink with embarrassment over being caught. I can’t help but smirk. She quickly looks away and I finish cranking the car up. The two of them talk to one another but the sound the crank drowns out what they are saying.
With everything hooked up, I decide I should use the small amount of manners that I picked up along the way of my haphazard upbringing and introduce myself properly.
Wiping my hands on my jeans, I extend one to her. “I’m Hendrix Dare, by the way.”
She stares at my hand as if I’m offering her a venomous snake and after a moment of hesitation, places her hand in mine.
“I’m Dagen McCallan.” Her skin is soft and the closer I stand, the better I can smell her sweet scent.
“Dagen, huh? That’s an unusual name,” I just have to add.
