“Don’t you fucking die on me, you piece of shit,” I mutter under my breath. The engine to my old Ford sounds like it’s spitting up chunks of tar. Every so often, the brakes feel like they’re shifting on their own and the truck slows to a near halt, only to start moving fast again. I’ve got miles to go and I just need my baby to keep chuggin’ along.

It makes a spurting noise, as if something just blew in the engine. “Dammit!” I scream, hitting the steering wheel. The truck slows to a complete stop and smoke fizzles up from the front. The transmission is done on this thing. I knew I should have fixed it weeks ago, but I thought I had time.

“Son of a bitch,” I sigh, getting out of the truck. No use in checking the damn thing. I don’t have any spare parts, anyway.

My boots click against the asphalt. In the distance, the sun is peeking its head up from the horizon. I can almost touch home base. I can see it in the distance. Just thirty miles to go. I’ll have to leave the damn thing on the side of the road and walk the rest of the way.

I grab my one bag of things and start walkin’. There’s no direction, but forward. Cars pass by me and I keep moving at a snail’s pace. Blood. All I’m thinking about is the blood. The bottoms of my shoes are still sticky from stepping in it. He was my best friend and they killed him, all for nothing.

I always kept my distance from that kind of shit. Crime. I never wanted anything to do with that, but I wasn’t naïve. I knew I’d cross it sooner or later. In my line of work, it’s bound to happen.

So when they came in with their packages and their suits, I knew I had to comply. If I didn’t, my body would be delivered to the world with a plethora of bullet wounds. Again, I’m not stupid. All in all, I’m just a mechanic with a whole lot of bad luck. Plain and simple.

I get about ten miles on my own, until I need to rest on the side of the road. Behind me, I hear the rumbling of a small engine coming up behind me. “Great,” I sigh when I see the outline of a young woman driving. If no one has stopped to pick a guy like me up, I doubt this woman will. I’m not out to hurt anyone, but I guess I don’t look too friendly, covered in engine grease. I quickly check my wallet to see that I have about twenty dollars on me. Maybe she’ll take it.

I go ahead and flag her down, walking into the middle of the road. She reluctantly stops, but honks her horn to get me out of the way. When I don’t budge, she rolls the window down. “Excuse me, but I have to get through,” she says, lowering her sunglasses. She’s the kind of girl who doesn’t give two shits about a guy like me, the kind of girl who brings in her Jeep and expects it to be finished in an hour.

But she’s hot as hell, and that’s what gets me the most. Girls like her always ignore guys like me. “Look, here. I’ve got about twenty dollars in my hand,” I say. “Now, I hate to even ask because I know a girl like you might have trouble trusting a guy like me. But my truck broke down back about ten miles. It’s hot as hell out here and I gotta get into town. If you help me out, I’ll give you this twenty and I’ll take you out to dinner. Anything you want. I promise.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re right,” she says. “I don’t really trust you.”

She leans out of her car further, and I catch a glimpse of the side of her tit. I feel my cock start to grow inside my jeans and I turn away in an attempt to bring myself back down to earth. She’s fucking beautiful, dammit. Of course she doesn’t trust me. I’m a no-good, bastard with blood caked on my shoes.

“Pardon me.” I smile. “It’s no trouble. I’ll just keep walking.”

I turn around and head toward town. I figure it’ll only be another three hours or so until I make it there. ‘Course, my house is a little far from the city center, so that might take another hour. And then I’ll have to get a tow truck out to get my vehicle. So be it. It’s better than having a gun pointed at your face.

“Wait,” I hear her call out. I turn around, shocked. “I saw your truck back there. It looked like it was in pretty bad shape, so I guess you’re not lying, huh?”

“Never told a lie in my life,” I lie.

She turns serious. “You touch me and I crash the car,” she says.

“I’ll keep my hands in my pockets. I swear,” I say.

“Alright,” she motions to the side door. “Get in.”