Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Well, Dale,” I said with my arms across my chest and my feet planted hip-width apart. “How about we talk about this fraud business you just admitted to in front of me, and you tell me how you’re going to fix it?”
The door behind me opened, and I heard Walt hesitantly say, “Uh, this is the guy I was just talking to you about, Dale.”
Dale looked from Walt to me before saying, “Is that right?”
“You have tonight to fix this,” I said. “You get her a brand-new car. Not one that you’ve driven. It needs to be as brand new as it can be. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to make sure you have this fixed.”
Dale swallowed. “I’m not sure…”
“Or the world’s going to see that bullshit you just spewed about selling a customer a used, fucked up car that you drove and found out was a lemon. What do you think Ford will think when you get plastered all over the internet?”
Dale cleared his throat. “I can get her fixed up in something new.”
“Something brand new,” I corrected. “And in the same color and trim style as the one she ordered.”
Dale nodded.
“By tomorrow.”
“That might not be possible,” he admitted. “I’ll have to probably do a dealer trade for it. It might take some time. Maybe a day or two.”
I scoffed. “I think if you put your mind to it, Dale, you can make anything happen.” I eyed Walt, then Dale again. “I’m not joking. Get this fixed.”
He nodded, his face paling at the tone of my voice.
“We’ll figure it out. Right now, sir.”
“You do that.” I walked to my bike and started it up.
As I drove home, I thought about how Constance had been fucked over, and it only made my blood boil hotter.
Which was why, instead of going inside when I got home, I went to the chainsaw in the back and got to work doing something I loved.
Carving wood.
Ten
Kind of want to fight. Kind of want to have your baby.
—Constance to Odin
Constance
It was officially week two, day eight, of the trial.
I pulled my new SUV into the closest parking spot I could find to the courthouse and got out.
Today there were deliberations and rulings.
They said that we’d “probably” get out around noon.
I hoped so.
I had a lot of things to do, and not a lot of time to do them.
I had to get Wendy to the doctor to get her blood. I had a deadline to meet with a contest that I was entering my photography into. And I also had to get home to help my mother and father since they’d had an influx of injured wildlife hit them over the last few days.
An injured young wolf that’d gotten his foot stuck in a trap. A mature eagle that’d flown into a net that’d covered some gardens and torn his wings up. And a juvenile elk that had lost his mother to an eighteen-wheeler.
That was on top of the several other animals already in residence.
Plus, Mom and Dad weren’t getting any younger.
We could use a hand or two that wasn’t related and didn’t mind getting paid very little.
Overhead for wildlife rehab facilities was quite high, and the government only helped so much.
I put my SUV in park, hit the button to shut it off, and got out.
As I did, three alarms beeped.
I eyed my keys in the cupholder and sighed before reaching for them and tucking them away in the door panel.
I hadn’t brought a purse today, which was going to suck around lunchtime.
Because there was no way in hell that I was eating what they had to offer.
I’d learned my lesson the hard way.
Closing the door, I locked it using the keyless entry and started up toward the front door. As I got closer, a blond head became visible over the huge pillars.
Odin.
I hadn’t talked to him much over the last few days, but I’d gotten here late both of those days thanks to traffic and dealing with my car.
I was elated to find out that the dealership had agreed to return my SUV and give me a brand-new one identical to the previous one.
And it hadn’t had one single problem since I started driving it four days ago. A major change from the one that I’d taken back.
What was funny was that the owner and the sales manager that I’d dealt with about my car previously had been overwhelmingly welcoming and accommodating.
They’d practically bent over backward to get me the new car, had filled it up with gas, and had offered free oil changes for the rest of the life of the car.
It was the weirdest and best thing that’d ever happened to me.
Weeks of craziness dealing with them had led to a wave of relief overtaking me.
A billow of smoke flowed out of Odin’s mouth the closer I got to him, and I frowned. “You smoke?”