Behind the Lyrics by Melissa Riddell
Chapter 31
Angela Morales
“Hey, Terri.” I breezed through the front office and slogged toward the hallway connecting to the studio, avoiding her stare.
“Oh no you don’t.” She grabbed my wrist when I passed. With her lips pursed and her brows lowered, she stood from her chair and pulled me close. “You okay, honey?” Her gaze, full of warmth and concern, nearly undid me.
Nodding, I swallowed and shrugged. “You saw?” I jutted my chin at the television mounted on the wall in the small waiting area.
“Yeah, just a few minutes ago. That no-good, lying, cheating piece of shit.” She wrapped me in a tight hug, her stout floral perfume clogging my nose.
Don’t cry, don’t cry. I sniffed. “It doesn’t matter. Not like we had anything official going on.” Tears flooded my eyes while I thought about that night in the recording studio with him, how he’d made the guitar and my body sing under his touch. How many times has he done that with other women? A sob escaped, and I desperately tried to keep my cool.
“Well, you wipe that maggot from your mind.” She stepped back and squeezed my upper arms then gave me a small shake. “He’s a blind fool for not seeing what a sweet and good person you are.” Leaning toward me, she gave a savage smile. “And if I ever see him again, I’ll grab him by that long, wild mane and chop off the little prunes dangling under his dick.”
A snort flew from my mouth at the mental picture in my mind. I had no doubt she’d do it, too. Terri was a hell of a woman and could probably hold her own with any man. She had a second-degree black belt in jiujitsu, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Thank you.” I wiped my nose with her proffered tissue then lifted my chin and marched straight to the studio, glad for its calming effects.
Two hours into my shift, Terri called through the phone intercom. “Angela, uh, I hate to ask this, but—”
“Ask what?” I kept my eyes on the time. In forty-five minutes, at the top of the hour, I’d take live requests and dedications. Until then, I was free to continue working on tomorrow’s playlist.
“Your truck’s paid for, right?”
I laughed, and some of the dread inside lightened. “Yeah. Do you really think anyone would offer a loan on it?” Rusty had been a steadfast companion, and as I’d told Viktor, the old truck might look used up, but under the hood, it still had what it took. Unlike a certain prick I know. I shoved the thought away and focused. “Why do you ask?”
“Get your ass out here, then. You need to see this shit.”
I hurried out the doorway and down the hall then stopped right in front of the door, my jaw hinging open. A tow truck had a chain attached to the front of Rusty.
A man gave the metal a solid shake then jumped into the driver’s seat of his ride.
My surprise turned to blind rage, and I threw myself out of the building.
“What the fuck is going on?” I sprinted to the passenger’s side since it was the closest and smacked my palm on the window. “Open up. Right now.”
His eyes, a light blue, opened in surprise, but he lowered the window. “Ma’am.” He inclined his head. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem?” My voice climbed an octave. “The problem is you’re hauling off my vehicle.”
He grabbed a clipboard from the seat and gave it a quick glance. “Your name’s Angela Morales?” His stare returned to mine.
“Yeah, but I don’t see what that has to do with—”
“Welp, I’m just doing what I’m paid to do.” He shifted the gear into Drive and gave me a small shrug. “No hard feelings.”
“You can’t take my vehicle, you asshole. It’s parked legally, I don’t owe any fines, and it’s paid for. What gives you the right?” My face burned from the desert heat and my anger. I wanted to yank open the door, pull the keys out of the ignition, and demand he unhook Rusty. I glanced at the poor old rust bucket and tried not to cry from frustration. My life, so good a month before, had turned into one colossal shitshow since Viktor fucking Farrow.
“It’s part of the agreement.”
“What agreement?” My teeth ground together.
“What the hell is going on?” Terri’s voice, her pitch low and dangerous, came from behind me.
I stepped back and half-turned to her. “This guy says stealing my car is in some kind of agreement.”
“Mister,” she said as she stepped to my side. “You got five seconds before I smash those fat sausage fingers of yours into a can of spam.” She cracked her knuckles and jogged toward the front.
He gave the truck gas and tore out of the parking lot with dust flying and Rusty a sad, fading thing that broke my heart.
I stomped my feet in anger, and Terri clenched her fists.
“It’s okay, girl, we’re going to get to the bottom of this.” With a rough jerk, she manhandled my arm and dragged me toward the station. “That motherfucker don’t know who he’s messin’ with. I’ll—”
Tires crunched behind us, and we both spun around.
A truck with a flatbed trailer pulled up and parked on the side of the road. On its bed sat a black, midsized SUV with tinted windows.
Terri put her hands on her hips. “What the hell is going on around here?”
I shook my head and peered down the highway in the direction Rusty had disappeared. That damn driver’s company is going to get an earful when I track them down. I probably wouldn’t even be able to afford the fines or whatever to get my truck out. Deep inside, my stomach churned and my head pounded. All I wanted to do was sit down and cry. I don’t even have a way to get back and forth to work now. How would I be able to keep my job?
“Ms. Morales?” A stocky man, dressed in overalls, ambled around the front of the eighteen-wheeler, a piece of paper in his hand.
“That’s me.” I rubbed my forehead, numb and confused. “What do you want?”
“Just needed to confirm.” He stuffed the paper into his pocket and walked to the end of the trailer then lowered two ramps. “This here’s your brand-new baby.”
“Huh?” I squinted at Terri. “Did I hear him right?”
“Yeah.” She tilted her head, as if thinking, then jutted her chin to the car. “What do you mean? That’s her car?”
He nodded, then strolled up the incline, popped open the driver-side door, and climbed inside.
“I’m so confused.” I shook my head, trying to process the past five minutes. First, some asshole stole my truck, and now another asshole brought a new SUV? It doesn’t make sense.
“Girl.” Terri snatched my shoulder and squeezed. Hard. “I know what this is. It’s an I’m sorry gift. Don’t take it from that dickhead—he ain’t worth it.”
“What…?” I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, the dust coating the insides of my nostrils. “He wouldn’t.”
“He did.” She pointed to the pretty, new car backing down the ramps.
The man parked it in front of the station and got out. “Here you go.” He held out the key fob to me, but I refused to grab it.
“You tell that asshole he can rot in hell before I take this thing.” I flicked my gaze to the SUV. It really was beautiful. Not too showy or big—perfect, if it hadn’t come from a cheating, lying bastard.
A look of incredulity flashed across his face. “Ma’am, no one else bought this. Everything’s in your name. I have the signed papers right here.” He fished them from his pocket.
I yanked the documents away and thumbed through them. It looked like my signature, but I knew better. Somehow, Viktor forged these or had someone else fake them.
“That dirty son of a bitch.” As I gripped the top to rip the papers to shreds, I stamped a foot on the sand, rage simmering the blood in my veins. “I don’t want anything from him.”
Terri grabbed my hands. “Hold up.” She pried the title from my fingers, gave it a quick glance, then turned to the delivery guy. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
He handed her the key, gave me a funny glance, then sprinted to his truck. He must’ve thought Terri and I were out of our minds. It wasn’t far from the truth.
An overwhelming urge hit to call Viktor and scream until I became hoarse.
“Woman.” Terri gripped my wrist. “This is a hell of an apology. I’m not saying to keep it, but you’re stuck without a ride until we figure something out.” She tugged me toward the building. “Let’s get out of this oven called Arizona and into some cool air before our brains fry, so we can figure out how to handle this.”
I followed her, seething inside. She was right. I couldn’t stew about it until after work. It was only ten minutes until I’d be on air, and I needed to calm myself.
You can’t buy my forgiveness, Viktor. Never. I’ll crash that vehicle into your hotel when you get here. Just wait.
This mental picture cheered me up way more than it should’ve, and a small smile pulled at my lips. How would that be for a great, big, old fuck you and no thanks?