Slow Ride

Avon, Massachusetts

This edition published by

Crimson Romance

an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

Blue Ash, Ohio 45242

www.crimsonromance.com

Copyright © 2014 by Kat Morrisey.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations,
events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination
or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons
(living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

ISBN 10: 1-4405-7484-7

ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7484-9

eISBN 10: 1-4405-7485-5

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7485-6

Cover art © 123rf.com

First and foremost, thanks to my editor, Julie. I think you are the most patient person
I know. Thank you for teaching me that there is always more to learn when it comes
to the writing process and not making me cry. Too much. I am also extremely grateful
for the kindness you and Tara showed when things got crazy for me and working with
me to adjust deadlines. The unexpected snuck on me but between the three of us, it
all worked out.

To my friends, both online and off, who have supported me through the years with my
dreams of wanting to be an author. I never thought the day would come when the hard
work and constant re-writes would pay off, but it finally did. Lauren, Julie, Juliana,
Fallon, Em, Lena and everyone else who cheers each other on during sprints, NaNo,
and writing challenges, you all rock and without you and our writing adventures, I
wouldn’t be where I am today. And a huge hug to my CPs, Fallon and Elli especially,
who helped me stay on track when my characters needed some discipline.

To my best friend, MB: You’re my rock and no matter what is happening in my life you
can make me laugh. You are the wisest person I know. Even when I’m staring death right
in the face, I know I can count on you. And MA, there is nothing better than to find
your book twin (among other things), and you’re mine. How about we take another trip
to Hawaii?

To my family, who put up with me: I love you and thank you for all your support throughout
the years, no matter where my journey has taken me. I have to give a special thank
you to my mom who all those years ago let me pour over the Scholastic book order forms
and change my mind a zillion times as I tried to decide what I wanted; the endless
trips to Waldenbooks; and for reading with me all the time. And to my sister, you’re
the best big sister a girl could have. Thank you for helping me through the toughest
and scariest time in my life. To my niece and nephew, I love you guys with all my
heart.

Lastly, to you the readers, who have decided to take a chance on me, a new author.
I’ve dreamed of becoming an author since I was a little girl, and finally that dream
is coming true. I hope you enjoy Kyla and Cooper’s story as much as I enjoyed writing
it. Have fun in Ashten Falls and happy reading!

Kyla belted out the chorus of Tom Cochrane’s
Life is a Highway
as it blared from the external speakers of her MP3 player. The song was perfect for
her road trip, and when he screamed out the chorus she did, too. Where Kyla was going,
she had no idea. She was just glad to have her latest troubles behind her and nothing
but the future in front.

She was singing about riding the highway all night long when the car jolted underneath
her, a horrible clanking noise that even she, someone who knew next to nothing about
cars, recognized as a very bad thing. She gripped the wheel tightly and guided it
to just off the shoulder, setting the car in park. Her shaking fingers turned off
the ignition and waited a moment before she tried to turn it over. A choking, sputtering
noise was the car’s angry reply, with an added belch of smoke that drifted from the
hood into the sky.

“Please, please no, no, not here, come on, please don’t do this.”

Kyla tried to turn the car over one more time, whispering to it, and whatever saint
might be the guardian of American classic cars, all to no avail. He or she must have
been on vacation. She sat still for a long moment, her eyes closed, taking in slow,
steady breaths. Of all the things she’d considered that could happen on this trip,
her car giving out on her hadn’t been one of them. It was an American original, strong,
loyal, and had yet to let to her down. Until today anyway.

“It looks like we have to rely on the auto club, Lola. And yes, I know how you feel
about strangers getting near you.” She rifled through her messenger bag, tossing out
receipts and scraps of paper on the floor with the rest of the detritus already there.
She found her card and dialed the number, requesting a tow. It would, in the words
of the customer service representative, be there “shortly.”

Kyla twisted and pulled herself out of Lola, her ’67 Mustang Coupe, lifting her arms
up over her head to stretch. She’d been in the car for hours since leaving the truck
stop at lunch. She needed a hotel and a soft, comfy bed she could crawl into and sleep
for days, but she could see by the lack of civilization around her that was unlikely.
There was thick brush about ten feet from the shoulder of the road, wildflowers and
bushes mixing with tall trees of all shapes and sizes. Further into the woods, she
could see rays of sunlight hitting the forest floor where it wasn’t blocked by the
towering pine trees climbing up to the sky.

Kyla listened to the soft sounds of nature, until the sound of a car cut through the
air. She was unable to stop her initial reaction, her muscles contracting into a mass
of tension, shoulders pushing back to straighten her spine. Despite the beauty around
her, it was at that moment that she realized she was a woman traveling alone in an
unknown area.

The driver stopped just off the road’s center stripe, his window rolled down, and
he called out to her. “You need some help there, girl?” His demeanor conveyed an easy
friendliness, and her irrational fear of being vulnerable fled when he spoke those
first soft words. But she stayed where she was. She wasn’t totally stupid.

Her eyes focused on the driver, who looked to be somewhere in his fifties, and if
appearances were any indication, he had lived a full life. He had a wide mouth, a
slightly crooked nose, and soft, gray eyes covered by wire-rimmed glasses, silhouetting
a face tanned from spending too much time in the sun without the use of sunscreen.
His hair, a mass of shoulder-length gray with specks of black in it, was held back
by a faded blue bandana around his forehead. When he smiled at her, she saw well-worn
laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.

“No, thanks. Called a tow. They are on their way.” She offered a bright smile. “He
should be here in a few minutes.” She had no idea if that was the case, but she hoped
to hell they were. “Thank god for auto club, right?”

“Well all right then. Don’t stand near the road; someone is going to come around that
curve and smack into you. People drive this road like a bat out of hell.” His head
bobbed up and down once, and then she heard the strained whir of the electric window
as it rose between them. She lifted her chin as he drove off and looked down at the
map feature on her phone to try to determine where she was exactly.

She’d been wandering for a few weeks now, taking a meandering road trip through the
northeastern part of the country. She had seen some beautiful sites and had a ton
of pictures to show for it, but she’d always packed up and kept going after a few
days. Now she was in Maine, but she couldn’t remember the name of the last sign she’d
passed. Somewhere north of Portland was her best guess. There had been so many small
towns she’d passed on her journey, the names ran together after awhile.

She bounced on the balls of her feet and glanced around again. It was early in June,
but the weather this far north still made the air cool. She shivered and took a deep
breath, the corners of her mouth tipping up. Salty sea air. The scent was faint, but
it was there. That was a good sign; she was still near the coast. The water in this
part of the Atlantic might be cold compared to warmer climes, but Kyla didn’t care
much about that. The smell and sound of the waves, her toes curled into the sand—that
was all she needed.

Kyla hummed a song under her breath, determined to not let her car’s misfortune get
the better of her. She’d called the auto club, and they would send someone to tow
her somewhere close by. There was no sense in worrying about it or overthinking the
situation. She did enough of that. The whole point of this trip was to let go of the
worry and fear she’d been living under. Kyla was free. Free to sing, free to drive
where she wanted, and free to let go of the past. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d damn
well try. And her determination to do that, coupled with her stubbornness, would hopefully
bode well for her success.

As the minutes ticked past, it was obvious her definition of “shortly” was much different
than that of the auto club’s. She grabbed the mp3 player from the front seat and unhooked
the external speakers she used in her car. She connected her ear buds and climbed
up on the trunk, lying back at a reclined angle against the back window. She stared
up at the trees and sky above, and found herself swept up in the music of Lana del
Ray’s
Off To The Races
in that throwback voice that always made her shiver. The raw emotion the singer exuded
struck her deep, and Kyla joined in at the chorus. She sang into the second verse,
oblivious to anything going on around her, as was always the case when the music took
hold.

• • •

Cooper punched the call button inside the car and listened as it rang, waiting for
the other person to answer.

“Yo.”

“We got nothing they can use. Said they’ve heard the rumblings, but they have bigger
fish to fry or some shit. Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Cooper slammed his hand on the steering
wheel.

“Coop, man. We knew this was going to be an uphill battle. We’ll think of something.
With what we’ve been doing, Saybrook has been scaling back. We all see that.”

“I hear ya. Listen, get the guys together, I want to meet at the store
tonight.”

“Sure thing.”

“Hold on a sec, Sam.” Cooper hit the button and took a call coming in.

“What’s up, Phil?”

“I’m going out for a tow, just inside the town limits.”

“All right, man. I’m a few minutes from there now. I’ll stop in case it’s a two-man
job.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

He clicked back over to Sam. “I gotta run. Phil has a call out for a tow. I’m going
to stop and see if he needs help. Get the boys together. Tell ‘em to bring their own
damn beer this time. We’ll talk more tonight.”

“Later, man.”

Cooper turned off the phone and ran a hand through his hair. This shit with the cops
was going to be the death of him. One minute the town was swirling in chaos and corruption,
terrified to even breathe for fear of the cops. The next minute, Martin “Marty” Saybrook,
the leader of the dirty institution, backed off. He did it just enough to placate
the masses, but that didn’t mean he didn’t do shit behind the scenes. Targeting people
for traffic stops, planting evidence on some of the alleged criminals he couldn’t
arrest the legal way, forcing himself on the girls at the local strip club on threats
of arrest. The man was beyond bad, but no one seemed interested in taking him down.
The town council was either terrified of him, was being blackmailed, or was in his
pocket.