The Alignment Read Free Page B

the backs as bad?”
    She opens her mouth to say something but breaks off as if the words catch in her throat. Turning away from me, she takes a few long, deep breaths while staring back down the road past her car. I watch her and wait until she finally turns back.
    Her voice strains. “I’m calling the police.”
    “No need. I admit fault. I’ll pay to fix your car.”
    “And then you just walk away with no consequences? I don’t think so. You can’t just blast through a red light with no regard for other people’s lives, cause an accident, and get away with it!”
    She is determined, I’ll give her that. Punishing me for this may seem appropriate to her. I can’t blame her for thinking a ticket, a fine, or even jail time would bother me in some way, teach me a lesson of some sort. I doubt she’s capable of grasping what little effect it would have. She turns toward her car. My first reflex is to grab her hand.
    “Do not touch me.” She yanks her hand away like I have a disease. How ironic.
    “Be reasonable. I’m being reasonable.” It’s becoming an effort to keep my voice calm.
    “ I need to be reasonable? You’re a psychopath!”
    “And you’re starting to get on my nerves.” Barely realizing I spoke aloud, I begin to fantasize about telling her how she made me lose the gray Acura. How her being here at the same moment I was stopped me from catching it. Maybe she would calm down if I told her exactly what had been at stake here.
    She opens her mouth again but no words come out. She must not be from around here. Not many people who live in this part of the country overreact when faced with such a simple problem, a problem that has already been solved. I close my eyes to gather my thoughts and imagine the relief I could feel by telling someone about the gray Acura. And I wouldn’t have to stop there. What would it feel like to tell someone, a complete stranger, about everything? Doesn’t matter if it’s her. Just any other human being capable of listening. The sound of another car pulling up breaks me out of my trance.
    “Is everyone okay… Liv ?”
    It’s Nancy Carter, the town’s one and only real estate agent. Using her presence as an out, I make my way around the crash. My truck looks untouched, but her car looks like it needs a shitload of work. The axle is definitely bent, and the flat tire holds onto the rim for dear life. I’ll have it towed to my mechanic. Body and mechanical damage. That’s going to be one hefty bill. Before I turn away, the Illinois license plate catches my eye. So I was right.
    I return to the women and take a deep relieved breath when I see that Nancy appears to be having better luck than I am. Shit, I could use a drink.
    Nancy turns to me. “I’m going to take Liv home. She lives at the Joseph place right across the river from you. She’s going to need a car at some point, preferably sooner than later, and this mess needs to be taken care of. I’m assuming you can handle all of it?”
    People around here seem to trust me. Hell if I know why. I nod my answer—that was my plan from the beginning anyway. The other driver just wouldn’t listen.
    Nancy stuffs the other driver into her own car. Then she’s in my face again. She lowers her voice. “She’s alone in that house. She doesn’t know anyone here and she has no one to help her. It’s all you, Trey.”
    “Got it.” The first time. I’d say it, but she’d probably smack me.
    She gets in her car and drives away. My truck starts confidently, so I pull over to the side of the road. After grabbing an empty box out of the bed, I head back to the other car and wrench open the passenger door. It groans a complaint and buckles in the middle. Great, more to fix. Her car is a stick, so I know she can drive my truck when I leave it for her. I grab her stuff from inside the car and throw everything in the box. I try not to notice the economy-size bottle of Pepto-Bismol and assume she doesn’t need it right