The engine died with a pathetic cough just as the last gas station’s neon sign vanished in the rearview mirror. Rain hammered the windshield like it had a personal grudge. Maya killed the useless ignition for the third time and slumped against the steering wheel, forehead pressed to the warm leather.

“We’re fucked,” she muttered.

Beside her, Riley stretched those long legs as far as the passenger seat allowed, boots kicked off, bare toes flexing. The black tank top clung to her small, perky tits from the humidity, nipples already stiff from the sudden drop in temperature. She didn’t look worried. She looked amused.

“Remote motel two miles back,” Riley...