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SMOKE brEAK

LUKAS

S tanding, I make the gesture that I’m going for a smoke, tapping two fingers against my lips.

The four girls all take notice but wave me away, too busy pouring my special homemade Sangria into their cups.

I was kind of hoping one of them would break off from the group to join me, but no luck.

Oh, well. I know there’s a lone lady out on the road somewhere; maybe I’ll go save her, and get my dick wet before coming back here to try and finesse my way into a threesome.

Foursome? Oh my gods…a fivesome! The thought of so much wet pussy aching for me makes my eyes cross.

There’s just enough rohypnol in the wine to make them compliant with whatever the hell I want to do.

Mix that with the alcohol, and they’ll all be hornier than a priest at a Boy Scout convention when I get back.

The walk to my truck is short, I hop into the driver’s seat and turn the key. Reversing out of the driveway, and heading off in the direction of the corner store.

Darkness has fully set in, but the flashlight from Bridget’s phone illuminating the road in front of her lets me know exactly where she is. She didn’t get far at all, probably hoping someone would’ve felt guilty enough to come and rescue her.

No such luck.

I found out the SUV belongs to Amber, and she’ll cut off fingers if any one even looks at it the wrong way. Which has a malicious little idea taking root; it grows fast and violent. I can’t wait to see her pretty little face contorted in so much anger that she could skin you alive with just a look.

Okay, focus, what’s the plan? Kill this annoying tic, fuck with Amber’s SUV, and maybe stick my dick in Summer’s ass while she sleeps? Got it.

Pulling up beside Bridget, I roll my window down. “Need a lift?” I ask.

“Oh, now you want to help?”

“Not really, but I’m going to the gas station for smokes, and offering to take you as far as there.”

She huffs, “Fine.” Picking up her suitcase, she carelessly throws it into the bed of my truck, then opens the door and slides into the passenger seat.

Whatever sexual exchange I was going to try and get out of her for this trip isn’t worth it. We’ve been driving for less than ten minutes, and I’m already so far past annoyed, I’m ready to tuck and roll out of my own vehicle to be rid of her.

“I think we might have made a wrong turn,” Bridget says, looking around.

“I don’t remember us coming this way when we first arrived.

” Oh, really? Can you tell that from the pitch black expanse in front of us?

Fuck sakes, I’m going to enjoy cutting out her tongue.

Maybe I can nail it to the front door of the house next.

Glancing over at her with my best attempt at a warm smile, I soothingly say, “I know a shortcut back to the main road.” This stupid bitch should’ve just stayed with her friends if all she’s going to do is critique my driving.

Actually, I’m the stupid fuck for stopping to pick her up.

It wouldn’t have ended any better for her if she stayed at the cabin, but then at least she wouldn’t be dying alone.

Ever so slyly, I shift the truck into neutral. It coasts down the road, losing power the farther we go. “Are we slowing down?” God. Does she always ask this many questions? I swear she hasn’t shut her trap since she buckled up. I pretend to pump the gas pedal as the truck slows to a snail’s pace.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I should’ve checked over everything before I left.

I’ve been having issues with this old thing lately, but my mechanic hasn’t been able to pinpoint what’s wrong.

Just hang tight and let me see if I can get us going again.

” The truck slows to a stop just as I pull over to the side of the road.

I put it in Park , pop the hood, and hop out.

Grabbing the tool bag from the truck bed before rounding to the front of the vehicle.

Obviously there isn’t a single thing wrong with my truck, but she doesn’t need to know that.

After spending at least ten minutes pretending to tinker under the hood, I’m bored.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” I yell.

“I’m going to call my guy and see if he can come for a tow.

” Bridget doesn’t respond, just huffs, mumbling something under her breath that I don’t give two shits about hearing.

Pulling out my cell, I hold it to my ear while walking around, pretending to talk to Joe Mechanic about my pickup’s issues. I damn well deserve an Oscar for the performance I’m putting on, exaggerated hand gestures and all.

“You know anything about trucks, sweet thing?” I ask.

She perks up at my positive attention, but shakes her head no. “I work from home. I don’t even have a car,” she replies. Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it? She won’t know if I’m bullshitting her or not.