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Hitting redial, I hold the phone to my ear and pace back and forth in front of Granger’s desk.
“Mitchell’s Auto Repair. How can I help you?”
The woman’s voice is like a siren song. Only because it means I’m that much closer to leaving Myth and most likely never returning now that Jackass remembers who I am and where he can find me.
“Hi, yes, my name is Brinley Thornton, and my car is broken down in the parking lot of West Hill Feed Store. I think I either need a jump start or a tow.”
Why the name of a feed store? It’s because technically, Myth doesn’t exist.
Do people drive by and see the cars in the lot on a nightly basis?
Yes.
Do they know that inside the run-down two-story feed store is actually a nightclub?
No.
Honestly, I’m not sure how Myth keeps people from finding out about it, but they’ve managed, and now is not the time to wonder.
“Why are you at the old feed store?” The woman blurts out the question with true confusion in her tone.
“My car just happened to die, and it was the closest place to park.”
It’s not the best lie, but if it will get a tow truck to me faster, it will do.
“Ah, I understand. Thankfully, you’re only a few minutes away. We should have somewhere there shortly. What kind of car do you drive?”
“A blue Toyota RAV4. It’s in the back of the parking lot, farthest from the building.”
She laughs. “We should be able to find it with no problem. I mean, how many cars can there be in the parking lot of a closed feed store at this time on a Friday?”
She has no idea.
But I don’t take the time to fill her in on that truth.
I’ll just wave down the tow truck driver when he arrives.
Hanging up, I glance down at my clothes again then go into Granger’s private bathroom to clean up as best I can.
There’s no getting the beer scent out of my shirt and jeans, so after drying my skin and as much of my clothes as possible, I take a steadying breath to walk back out into the club and avoid Jackass again.
Knowing him, he’s waiting by the door ready to harass me as soon as I emerge.
I pause before opening the office door, but then I pull it open, loud music rushing in combined with the din of conversation from the crowd.
Jackass is nowhere to be found.
Glancing around to see if he’s waiting nearby, I’m happy to discover I can’t see him.
Maybe the door smacking him in the face was the hint he needed to leave me the fuck alone.
My shoulders relax with relief as I quickly traverse the club toward the front door, the cool night air brushing my face when I make it outside.
“What’s wrong with your car?” Patrick asks.
Lifting my eyes to look up at him, my brows pull together with confusion.
“How do you know something is wrong with my car?”
