With the wind blowing as harsh as it could, I turned off the freeway and stopped at the first convenience store in sight. Parking in front of another car, our noses barely touched. I shut the engine off, and opened the door, pushing hard against it. When the door finally swung open, it banged against its hinges and stayed put.

I covered my face with my sleeve to keep the wind out of my eyes as my jeans flapped against my legs. Slaming the door, I walked around to the back to see the damage that girl had done to my car. There were only a few scratches, from what I could see through the dirt.

I should have taken her license away, she was driving like a mad man, but I felt a little bad. The instant I asked for it, she started crying all over herself. I could not have imagined what she would have done if I had given her a ticket. Letting her off with a warning, I sent her on her way. But, I still had to send in an incident report. The dust storm hit soon after. If I had simply ignored the fender bender, I would have just barely missed it.

I locked the car, and headed inside, hungry for anything that was prepackaged.

There was a layer of dirt covering the windows, and when I opened the glass door, I thought it was going snap off.

The clerk managing the counter simply looked at me before going back to her book. I whispered a “Sorry”, and pulled it closed again.

Grabbing a few powdered donuts, a twinkie, and some smart water, I went over to the counter to pay for them. “Crazy weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

She did not answer,and simply rang me up. With smeared on lipstick and eyeshadow, her dark eyes were bloodshot, and her lips looked like she had just sucked on a lemon.

The lady tossed my food in a plastic bag, took my money, and shoved the prepackaged junk across the counter. I took that as a sign to ‘get the hell out’.

I tied the bag and held it tight in one hand, pushing the door open to conquer the weather again. It blew the glass to the edge of its hinges, tossed in a gust of dirt, and I covered my face to march through the wind.

The weather tossed the other way, and the door slammed, just as I slipped through. Heading back to my car, I searched for my keys with my eyes closed, and shoved it in the key hole to unlock the door. I tossed the bag to the side, and climbed in, cranking the engine.

The heater went to full blast, and I rubbed my hands and wiped the dust from my face. Turning the lights on, they shined into to the other car, and brightened the watery eyes of a woman who sat in the driver’s seat. She did not move, did not say anything. The car was not even turned on. Her cheeks were wet, and her brown eyes were glossed over.

Leaving the car on, I got out to fight with the wind again, and approached her vehicle. As a cop, it was not my job to come to the aid of every woman who I found crying in an abandoned parking lot, but as a gentleman, it was my duty to take care of damsels in distress.

The car door slammed and I walked around to her driver’s door. “Excuse me, Miss.” I knocked on the window. It rolled down, but the lady did not look my way. “Are you alright?”

And that was when I noticed a man with a gun in the back seat, with the barrel against her temple.

Prequel: Road Rage

Sequel: Sugar