After Sunset

Chapter One

Dyland Summers was in a nasty mood. It was the third day of her court-ordered community service—three weeks for driving under the influence of alcohol. She blamed the stupid raccoon that'd come out of nowhere.

In her attempt to avoid running it over, she'd driven straight into a lamppost, which had resulted in a broken leg. It was now throbbing with pain and its cast was making her skin pale, sensitive, and itchy. She wished she could cut through the cast, more to scratch beneath it rather than ease the pain.

She wasn't the only one paying her debt to society. There were several other people, mostly between the ages of nineteen and twenty-four, who were putting in their court-imposed time. She didn't wonder what they'd done in order to end up like her— carrying a garbage bag, cleaning the city park for the law-abiding folks of Reedsville, Southern Orange County, California, who apparently needed some education on recycling.

She held tight onto her crutch to steady herself and reached in her pocket to retrieve the bottle of pills her doctor had prescribed. She removed her gloves, dropped the litter stabber to the ground, and fished out a couple of pills. She took a bottle of water from the unflattering, orange community service jumpsuit she was wearing and downed the drugs.

It'd been a little sunny earlier on, but the weather had quickly changed. Now it was a bit windy, and the moist scent in the air promised it would rain.

Dylan drew in a deep breath of the clean, crisp air, waiting for the pain to subside as she combed her fingers through her short, dark pixie hair. She tucked the pills into her pocket, stowed the water bottle, and then leaned down for the litter stabber. The crutch slipped in her hand, throwing her off balance.

She couldn't keep herself from falling. "Goddamn it!"

She was still getting used to depending on the crutch for simple tasks, such as standing without falling flat on her behind.

"You need some help?" a female voice asked.

She didn't bother to look up. "No."

Dylan grabbed the litter stabber and, using her crutch, struggled to get back on her feet without putting any pressure on the casted leg. By the time she'd managed to stand, she was fatigued, there was tingling in her hands, and she was lightheaded.

She'd recently quit smoking and was well aware that she was experiencing some of the withdrawal symptoms. She resented them, knowing her high level of chemical dependency on nicotine always won whenever she tried to quit. At that moment, she was seriously tempted to light one up for her smoke-starved lungs.

"Excuse me."

It was the woman who'd offered help. Dylan turned to face the unwelcome intrusion and found soft, kind eyes looking back at her.

"You dropped this." Her sandy blonde hair swayed to the rhythm of the breeze as a small smile played on her lips.

If Dylan hadn't been so frustrated already, she wouldn't have dismissed the woman quite so rudely.

She looked at the bottle of pills, reached out and took them, and, without so much as a thank you, turned and dragged her garbage bag away. She wasn't there to make friends.

Just a few minutes later, it started raining, and the medium-height plump woman who supervised the community service and reported to the probation officer called out, "Get your garbage bags to the dumpsters."

Dylan complied, getting soaked for her troubles while everyone else abandoned their trash and ran for shelter as soon as it started pouring.

By the time she signed off on the hours she'd put in that day, it was raining even harder. Her car was in the garage for repairs, and her driver's license had been suspended until she was done with community service. She could either take a taxi or call someone to give her a ride. She took out her phone to call Jake, her best friend. He'd picked her up a couple of times, but his job didn't always allow him to be flexible. She checked her watch to decide whether he might be available, as a car pulled up beside her.