Damaged 2 (22 page)

I see my car. It's passing the second
light. Motorcycle man punches it, and the bike flies under the second
intersection just as the light changes. I manage not to shriek. My skirt flies
up to my hips, but I don't let go of the biker's waist to push the fabric back
down.

We're nearly there when the thief
catches the third light. The car in front of him stops, forcing the carjacker
to stop as well. As soon as he takes his foot off the gas, my car convulses and
white smoke shoots out the tailpipe. The engine ceases. The driver's side door
is kicked open and the guy runs.

Motorcycle man pulls up next to my car.
I slip off the back of the bike, my heart beating a mile a minute. I can't
afford to lose this stuff. I'm barely making it as it is. I look at my car.
Everything is still there. I turn back to the guy on the bike as I smooth my
skirt back into place.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I say,
"Thanks." I must seem insane.

He flips his face shield up and says,
"No problem. Does your car always do that?" A pair of blue eyes meets mine, and
the floor of my stomach gives way. Damn, he's cute. No, not cute—he's hot.

"Get jacked? No, not always."

He smiles. There's a dusting of stubble
on his cheeks. I can barely see it because of the helmet. He raises an eyebrow
at me and asks, "This has happened before, hasn't it?"

More times than you'd think. Criminals
are really stupid. "Let's just say this isn't the first time I had to chase
after the car. So far no one's made it to the parkway. That damn light takes
forever and I keep stalling out in the same spot. You'd think I'd figure it out
by now, but…" But I'm mentally challenged and prefer to chase after car
thieves. I stop talking and press my lips together. His eyes run over my dress
and pause on my sneakers, before returning to my face. Great, he thinks I'm
mental.

Turning to the car, I grab another can
of ether from the backseat and walk around to the front. I dropped the last can
somewhere behind me. I pop the hood and spray. I'm so cold that I've gone numb.
As I walk back to my door, I shake my head, saying, "Who steals a car that
barely runs?"

"Do you need any help?" The guy holds my
gaze for a moment, and my stomach twists. He seems sincere, which kills me. A
strange compulsion to spill my guts tries to overtake me, but I bash it back
down.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my
head and swallow the lump in my throat. Today sucked. I'm totally alone. No one
helps me, and yet this guy did. "No, I'm okay," I lie as I slip into my car and
yank the door shut. "Thanks for the ride." I turn the engine over and smile at
him. The window is down. It doesn't go up.

"Anytime." He nods at me, like he wants
to say something else. All I can see of his face is his crystal blue eyes and a
beautiful mouth. He's sitting on a bike that cost more than my tuition. He's
loaded, and I've got nothing. A pang of remorse shoots through me, but I need
to go. The haves and the have-nots weren't made to mingle. I already learned
that lesson once. I don't need to learn it again.

"Thanks," I say before he can ask my
name. "I'll see you around." I smile at him and drive away, holding back tears
that are building behind my eyes.

It's weird. There are so many shitty
people in the world, and on the worst day of my life, I finally find a nice one
and I'm driving away from him.

MORE ROMANCE BOOKS BY
H.M. WARD

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