Free Dark Siren by Eden Ashley Page B

before. Lisa came into Kali’s room, her voice stirring Kali awake. “Why is that thing going off so early?”
    Kali cracked an eye open and saw the giant blue digits of the clock. Then she popped straight up in bed. If she hauled butt, she might make it on time. “I’m supposed to be to work at five.”
    “Take my car,” Lisa said. “Don’t go over seventy.”
    Kali broke a world record getting dressed. Completely ignoring Lisa’s instructions, she drove like a madwoman and exceeded every speed limit on her way to work. Sunday traffic wasn’t bad, so Kali blazed down the interstate mostly unimpeded.
    She came upon two cars, driving side by side. They had both lanes tied up, refusing to do over sixty-five in the seventy speed zone. Trailing behind the car in the left lane was an oversized pickup with a film of dust covering a black paint job. The driver of the truck also acted a bit eager to pass. With mounting frustration, Kali watched her speedometer sink below sixty. She stomped on the accelerator.
    All eight cylinders came to life as the Jeep roared into the left shoulder. Kali stared down the dumbass responsible for the delay. Seeing a handicapped sign hanging from the old man’s rearview mirror made her madder. She jerked the steering wheel sharply, cutting off the old guy to merge back into traffic. He honked his horn. She laughed and extended her middle finger through the open sunroof.
    Her finger was still in salute when the Jeep pitched wildly to the right. Kali gripped the wheel with both hands and fought for control, but the vehicle fishtailed. Tires were squealing. More horns blared as other cars struggled to miss the careening automobile. It was miraculous that she made it safely onto the shoulder. Kali brought the car to a complete stop, checked both mirrors, and stepped out into the emergency lane. Her legs were shaking.
    The old man with the handicapped sign slowed enough to cast a meaningful glare in her direction. Then he gave her the finger and punched the gas.
    The rear right tire had blown out and nearly killed her. A spare rested beneath the cargo area, but Kali had no idea what to do with it. She dug around inside her purse for her cell phone but couldn’t find it. Emptying the contents, she searched again. Her stomach gave a sickened twist. Kali remembered leaving the phone charging on the dresser.
    She peered down the interstate hopefully. Not a car was in sight. Clenching her teeth, she let out a frustrated groan. “Mr. Richards is going to kill me.”
    Kali shoved her things aside and sank into the seat, wishing she had paid attention in shop class on the day they were taught how to change a stupid tire. She was still wallowing in self-pity when the dusty pickup pulled into the emergency lane and stopped behind the Jeep.
    Kali was apprehensive. Stories of road rage had made recent headlines. She stared at the tinted windshield and tried to glimpse what she was up against. Do I need to lock the doors or make a run for it? If she spotted a piece of steel, Lisa’s Jeep was going to become a three wheeler.
    When the driver emerged, Kali knew everything was going to be okay. Relief and excitement surged through her at once. Rhane swung out of the pickup and strode down the blacktop, the morning sunlight exaggerating his near-perfect features. He was a living daydream.
    A finely tailored suit, sans the jacket, fit his tanned body like a glove. The cut and line of the black fabric screamed expensive. Kali could have peeled him like a banana. And as he walked up to her with complete disregard for her personal space, she almost had to kick herself so as to not jump his bones right there on the side of the road.
    He smiled one of his easy smiles. “That was some driving.”
    She edged forward and invaded his space in return, daring him to step back. They stood toe-to-toe. Their faces floated only inches apart. While it felt good to have her confidence back, Kali was surprised by how much she