Yep. I’m officially in Hell.
Finally, the employee pulled up with what the rental agent had referred to as a fine car. Clearly, Meg’s definition of fine varied somewhat from the agent’s. If she had any strength left in her body, she would go back and beat the guy over the head with her busted cell phone. Looking at the directions to her hotel, she silently said a prayer that the heap of junk in front of her would make it the ten miles she needed to drive.
“Here you go, miss.” The young valet offered her a smile she felt the incredible urge to run her fist through. More violence. She needed a drink. Like yesterday. “Welcome to Eden Isle.”
As if on cue, the sky opened up and rain came down in a deluge that had her soaked in less than ten seconds. Dripping wet and cold, she climbed into the monstrous van, prayed the windshield wipers worked, and made her way out of the airport parking lot with her head pounding and her teeth chattering.
After thirty minutes of poor visibility and two missed turns, she finally found the right road. According to her directions, she was only a mile from her destination. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly one a.m. Thunder and lightning now accompanied the pounding rain, the deafening sound of it only adding to the pressure building behind her eyes. She should have taken a couple of those aspirin back at the airport.
Bright lights in her rear view mirror blinded her for a moment as a car came up from behind, too quickly for her comfort. She knew she was driving slowly, but the visibility was practically zero and she had no idea where she was going.
“You’ll just have to hold your horses, hot shot,” she murmured to the car now riding her rear bumper. “Back off, asshole.” The car continued to drive too close. She tapped on her brake lights twice hoping the driver would get the message, but the guy continued to crowd her.
Tired of tailgating, the car crossed the double yellow line and began to pass her. She was even more annoyed when she realized it was an enormous limousine.
“Oh perfect,” she mumbled. “Rich boy too important to wait.”
Suddenly a pair of headlights approached from the opposite lane. Meg’s heart stopped as she watched the limo speed up to pass her before careening head-on with the other car. All she could see before slamming on the brakes was the limo’s license plate—MAD 1—taunting her. She swerved off the road and into a ditch as the limo began coming back into her lane before fully completing his pass. The van came to a relatively easy stop despite the fact Meg was screaming her head off and not really focusing on her driving. Looking up, she saw the limo continue down the road, the taillights of the other vehicle disappearing behind her.
“What kind of place is this?” She’d literally been run off the road in the middle of the night and left alone. If she ever got her hands on that limo driver, she’d kill him.
Taking a deep breath and trying to still her shaking hands, she hit the gas in an attempt to pull back onto the road. Spinning tires greeted her and no amount of gear-switching would budge the vehicle.
“Shit!” Grabbing her carry-on bag and throwing it over her shoulder, she climbed out, kicking the tire as she passed to stalk down the road toward her hotel. If she’d been thinking clearly, she never would have left the safety of the van, but adrenalin and anger had kicked in. She was more furious than she’d ever been in her life.
After ten minutes of trudging through the mud and the rain, the gods smiled on her as she saw the sign for her hotel. Picking up her pace, she sprinted across the dark parking lot. As she approached the front door of the hotel, she spotted MAD-1 sitting under the covered entryway. The stress of the day broke free as she watched the young chauffeur get out of the driver’s seat to open the back door. Meg saw red as she headed for the man who made her wreck her lousy rental car. Out of the corner of her eye she watched a man and woman emerge from the car, but her entire focus concentrated on the cocky blond driver. Walking up to him, she put a finger to his chest and let loose.
“You stupid, ignorant, son of a bitch,” she screamed at the startled man. “You could have killed me. You aren’t fit to drive a bicycle, let alone a limo. As if that’s not bad enough, you left me stuck in a damn ditch by the side of the road in a storm in the middle of the night. I should call the police and have you arrested for reckless driving. I should call—”