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Prologue

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Victor

“Vic? Hey-Vic?”

Hearing Angelo, the dispatcher, I quickly wipe the burger sauce off my face with my sleeve, grabbing the CB and answering with my mouth still full. “What’s up?”

“Maybe swallow before you talk?” Angelo chuckles.

Hard swallow, voice adjustment. “Sorry.”

“I need ya to run up the mile toward Mac’s. Got a ditcher for ya. The guy sounds all sorts of put out.”

I sigh. Another drunk that should have stayed put, I suppose. “Yeah, gimmie like ten, call Abi over at Radman’s and let her know not to lock up yet?”

“Way ahead of ya.”

“Thanks.” Stuffing the last of my burger down my gullet, I toss the fries for the critters and pull the wrecker onto the main road. Amel is one of them little Kentucky towns you never notice till you’re out of it. Corn on both sides and a two-mile strip with one stop light. If it wasn’t for all the cash blowin’ around, it’d probably still be all dirt roads.

My family owns a fleet of tow trucks, and though we’re pretty loaded, my father seems to think my working will help develop my character. Whatever that means.

I see the hazard lights long before I get to the scene. I’d have thought they’d have called the locals, but aside from one flare and the hazards, there’s little movement. As I’m rolling up, I spot two figures moving around. Hell, it looks like they’re fighting.

My window is down, so I hear more than I see.

“Dad—dad! Stop. It’s not budging.”

“This is all your fucking fault. Maybe if you watched the god damned road—” The older guy is slurring and barely on his feet as he takes a swing. The kid, who’s probably around my age, manages to dodge it, and the guy lands on his ass.

“Dad—stop. I called Mom.”

“Yeah? Always with your mother. The little pussy can’t cut the strings.”

Wow, is this a domestic I want no part of, grasping my tire iron, cause if this guy swings, I’m swinging harder, I get out of the truck. The kid spots me, and it looks like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. Shining my mag light, I approach.

“Hey, thank you for coming out.”

“Sure.” Looking at the position of the SUV in the ditch, I already know my night is blown. The rains from this afternoon, plus the ditch angle, are gonna really make this shit suck. “Seems it got away from ya, huh?” I ask. The kid side-eyes his dad, and I see the short head shake.

From the cut over the dad’s eye, I’d say he grabbed the fucking wheel cause there’s no sign anybody hit the brakes.

“Yeah.”

“You passin’ through and get lost?”

The kid runs his fingers through his hair with a short laugh. “Nah, just moved into town.”

“That makes sense.” I put out my hand. “Name’s Vic, you startin’ at the High School?”

“Clay, yeah, tomorrow.”

“You like football?” I ask cause I spy he’s sporting a Buckeyes jersey.

“Boy bleeds scarlett and grey.” His dad tries to get up but fails. “You gonna get this car moving or exchange numbers for a fucking playdate?”

Wow, and they say I’m a dick.

“Sorry, he’s had a few.”

“That’s usually the case if I’m pullin um outta the ditch. Listen, grab your gear, and once I get it hitched, I can drop you wherever if ya want.”

“Thanks, Vic, but I called a ride.”

“That works too.” I start to walk away, “So if ya need someone to show ya around, find me tomorrow in the quad. I got the deets on all the fine Amel trim. We can toss the ball, and I’m sure you’ll get a number or two.” This dude is seriously gonna crimp my game, so it’ll be better to make him a friend instead of a rival.

“That’s cool. Thanks.”

“Sure.” My eyes cut back to his dad. I really don’t like how he’s watching, but I got shit to do. The only highlight of this night is gonna be seeing Abi Greenwood, the local girl that practically lives at Radman’s, the garage that takes most of our tows. She may be from the wrong side of the tracks and be covered in axle grease most of the time but seeing her always makes me smile. Too bad she mostly hates my guts.