English Accent (The Accents #1)

Sabbra Cadabra

Too caught up in our heated discussion, none of us thought about calling the cops. Someone else must have, though, because no sooner than Sierra and the guy disappeared from my view, I heard the signal of sirens.

I had to go through the mass of ritual questions and reply to every single one of them.

No, I am not drunk. No, I haven't taken any drugs. Yes, this is my first car crash. No, I'm not in shock.

The trouble started the moment they realized there was no victim. I mean, the front of my car was totally crushed, and yet they couldn't find any source of the damage. Explaining to them that the other car's driver has just gone somewhere and was going to come back in a while was quite hard. I'm sure that after I was done, the two officers thought I was quite crazy. And hell if I haven't heard them considering putting me in arrest until the guy comes back.

The fact that it hasn't occurred to me to ask him for his name didn't help. When I told them I had really no idea what the guy name was, they looked like they weren't sure if they should laugh or cry. But what can I say? I could never be considered a responsible person. The fact that I've just let my best friend go somewhere with a stranger was the perfect proof of that fact.

Fortunately, about half an hour later the black SUV approached us. I was standing next to the police car when he stopped next to it. I bombarded him with questions the second he stepped out of the car, but he ignored half of them and for the rest he responded in monosyllables. In the end, by the time the cops snatched him away from my assault, I only knew that he had driven her to the airport in time and that he hadn't killed her. But who knows? He didn't look like a trustworthy type of a guy.

I was just dialing Sierra's number to ask her about details but was stopped by one of the officers calling for me.

"Miss Hindley? Could you come here for a moment?"

Smart. Could I come for a moment? Sounded like an offer but hell if I said no.

"Of course."

I slid my phone back into my pocket and approached the two cops and the guy.

"Do you agree that the crash occurred due to your fault?" one of them, whose name I think was Officer Largent, asked.

"Ye... Yeah." I said, a little flustered.

What the hell had the guy said to them? Were they going to punish me now somehow?

God, I was a shitty citizen. I didn't even know the consequences of a car crash.

The man nodded and scribbled something down in his notes. I swallowed nervously. What was about to happen?

"Do you have an insurance?" the other one asked.

"I do."

At least I hoped so.

He nodded.

"Good. It should cover the costs of the repair."

It better does. I was kind of broke. Couldn't find a better time to blow my car.

"All right, I believe that's all." officer Largent closed his notebook. "We have to leave now. But we'd advise you to call a gun carriage, miss."

Right. My car was destroyed. Someone should take it... somewhere.

Where was God and his miracles when I needed them?

I said goodbye to the officers and pulled out my phone. Just when I was about to type in the number, my finger paused over the keyboard.

"Um..." I bit my lip. "Do you know the number for some good gun carriage?"