Crank by Adriana Locke

Author:Adriana Locke [Locke, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crank
Publisher: Umbrella Publishing Inc.
Published: 2017-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

“THIS IS THE WORST idea I’ve ever gone along with,” I say, cringing as Peck’s truck goes airborne over a set of railroad tracks and drops back onto the pavement. “Take it easy.”

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, his easy grin painted on his face. “What’s the fun in that?”

“I don’t know. Living?”

“You only live once.”

“And here I didn’t peg you as a YOLO kind of guy,” I tease, grabbing the door handle as we take a curve on two wheels.

“What’s YOLO?”

“Forget it.”

He straightens the truck out, barely controlling the slide onto the gravel road just outside of city limits. Dust barrels behind us, whipping away into the cornfields lining both sides of the road.

With every mile we get away from my car and the church, it seems like we are a little further away from all sense and sensibility.

The cardboard pine tree hanging from the rearview mirror twirls in the afternoon sunlight. I focus on it and not on the way my brain is screaming at me to have Peck turn back. When I open my mouth to comment on how New Car Scent doesn’t smell like a new car at all, something altogether different comes out.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.” He eases up on the accelerator, the truck slowing its roll so I can actually make out stalks of corn and not a yellow blur. “I wasn’t kidding when I said he was a mess this weekend.”

My skin feeling like it’s too small for my body, I grab at my collar. “Why?”

“I’m not sure. Just that it has to do with you.”

If I wasn’t strapped in with a seat belt, I’d sag against the door. Instead, I rest my head on the glass and watch the country out of the windshield. “I really think we should scrap this, Peck.”

“Hell fucking no,” he laughs.

“This isn’t funny.”

“Look,” he says, re-gripping the steering wheel, “I don’t think y’all are gonna get married and have babies. I mean, if you do, great. Fine. I don’t really give a shit. Molly McCarter will have my babies someday. But you seem to like him in a way most women don’t.”

“I don’t like him at all.”

“Mm-hmm . . .” he says, taking us around another corner on two wheels. “I think what’s different is that you came into town not knowing anyone. Like, you don’t know the gossip or the history or who’s fucking who and who’s getting fat, you know?”

“Oh my God,” I snort. “That’s terrible!”

“Yeah, small towns. It’s true. Anyway,” he continues on, “you just slugged your way in here and saw things for what they are. Not what they were or what they were supposed to be.”

“First off, don’t think I didn’t get that jab you webbed in there for me . . .”

He grins, lifting his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

“Second,” I continue, “are you saying Walker is not what he was? Does he have some crazy past?” Squirming now, blood racing, I demand answers. “Tell me, Peck.

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