It was just before ten when I slowed my bike and made a right onto Dawson. Darkness had long descended on the small, mountain city, but a storm had rolled in, and the sky pounded its fury on Redemption Hills, California. “Shit,” I grumbled under my breath when I saw the red blinking lights up ahead. The last thing I wanted was to play savior right then. I was soaked through, and I was itching to get back so I could peel the drenched clothes from my body, hit a hot shower, and maybe kick back a beer or two considering I’d picked a really fuckin’ bad night for a joyride.
