Perfect Storm

Prologue

Tawny

Instead of wishing me good luck, it would be nice if everyone would start wishing me to have bad luck. That way, if it's even possible, I can finally have a day where nothing goes wrong.

In my case? That's probably not possible.

I'm the queen of bad luck, and how this past year and a half has gone for me, I think now would be a good time for me and Mr. bad luck to break up.

A little over a year ago, my mother passed away after a long hard fight with depression. Every day was a hard battle for her to open her eyes and get out of bed. Every breath she took was a struggle. Well, to be exact, it was a violent war. Daily she fought with the demons to get them to allow her to breathe. She'd fight, and fight, and fight, and then when it got bloody, she'd fall asleep.

Instead of continuing to fight the battle and win, my mother gave up, letting depression be the winner.

Depression; the silent fucking killer.

Then there's my father. My friends and I always knew he was a big pothead. But after my mother took her life, he allowed his life to die with her as well. So instead of continuing with smoking the wacky tobacco, he went a lot deeper and did whatever drug he could get his hands on.

Because of my mother's death and how my father allowed drugs to rule his life, I dropped out of college to come home and to try to save my father from the same demons who took away my mother.

Since I've been home, all kinds of crazy mishaps have happened.

First, after leaving my mother's funeral, I got into a car accident and totaled a gorgeous man's sports car. And it just so happened to be some high-end Lamborghini worth millions.

Just my luck, of course.

Since there was a lapse in my insurance coverage, I had no insurance at the time of the accident, and it fucked me.

My driver's license got suspended for six months, and the judge ordered me to pay an astronomical amount of money for fines, restitution, and the man's medical bills.

Money I don't have.

Money that I'll never have.

And it's an amount of money I'll never see in my lifetime.

I asked for a payment plan to pay a hundred dollars a month until I paid it off. Instead, they pretty much laughed, showed me the middle finger, and said I'm fucked for life.

Well, that part is actually true. I'm fucked.

I feel bad for totaling the man's car. I do. But in my eyes, it wasn't my fault.

It was his.

The overly sexy, panty-melting, vagina-tickling, asshole-of-a-man driving the Lamborghini decided to switch lanes simultaneously as me, which caused us both to overreact, oversteer, and crash into each other—causing us both to flip into midair multiple times.

We were the Ryan Newman and Joey Logano of Nascar. With me being Newman and the jerk being Logano. He's the one who clipped me, caused me to spin out and flip us both high into the air.

He and his attorneys argued until they were blue in the face that I was the one who caused the accident.

Since I had no insurance and no money, the judge sided with the unpleasant millionaire.

Since then, I've been making payments of ten dollars here, twenty dollars there. Hell, I even went as far as making a larger payment of a thousand dollars after hitting a nice chunk of money at the casino a couple of months ago. So if Ian Preston, or whatever the hell his name is, is upset about the small payments. He can kiss my ass.