Chapter 2Blake growled and tried for what felt like the seventeen-thousandth time to thread the piece of garden hose into the fuel line of the old Chevy Nova. He’d cut the piece off the coiled hose he’d found beside the sink in the barn, and he’d found the Nova under a tarp behind it. He’d planned on siphoning from the pickup truck in the driveway beside the house, but it had a lock on it. Ridiculous. As if anyone that deep into no man’s land needed a locking gas cap, for Christ’s sake.
You do understand that’s literally what you’re doing, right? Are you sure you’re not just mad that whoever owns the truck outsmarted you?
“Of course I am,” Blake whispered. But he wasn’t really stealing-stealing. He was only taking a nip. Just enough for his bike to get him the hell out of there. He could
