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Stranded My Boyfriend Stole My Car and Left Me on the Highway Novel Cover

Stranded My Boyfriend Stole My Car and Left Me on the Highway

An icy holiday trip turns into a battle of betrayal. On their way to spend New Year's with his family, Leo Sullivan demands his girlfriend give his sister seventeen thousand dollars instead of the agreed-upon iPhone. When she objects, Leo abandons her on the freezing highway shoulder, driving off in her vehicle. Shivering in the bitter cold and ignored by his phone, she finally stops chasing him. Calming her anger, she dials the highway patrol to report her stolen car, turning a relationship dispute into a criminal pursuit.
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Chapter 3

They'd never interfered much in my love life. They let me make my own choices.

And now I'd gone and made a complete mess of things.

The second my dad heard what happened, he lost it. His face turned beet red, and he looked like he wanted to drag Leo out of wherever he was and beat him senseless.

"What kind of man does that? Son of a bitch. I'll make sure he doesn't have a single peaceful day this holiday. He thinks he can bully my daughter? I'll kill him. I swear to God, I'll kill him."

He grabbed his car keys before he'd even finished talking.

My mom saw him gearing up for war and yanked him back by the arm.

"What are you holding me back for? You're just going to let our baby girl, the one we raised like a princess, get pushed around like that?"

My mom shot him a look, then lowered her voice. "Will you calm down? There's only three of us. Combined, we're still outnumbered. We go home first, call up every aunt, uncle, and cousin we've got, and then we go. We're not walking into a fight we can't win."

That finally cooled my dad down. He looked at my mom with pure admiration in his eyes.

She really was his better half. When it mattered most, she was the one with the plan.

Our whole family rolled back home like an army on the march, and we laid out the entire story for the elders.

Every single one of them was furious.

Even my eighty-year-old grandparents, Burton Henson and Scarlett Henson, drove over from their place that very night.

"That little bastard thinks he can bully a Henson girl? He must have a death wish!" Burton slammed his fist on the table.

"Damn right. Let's go. Let's go to his house right now!" Scarlett was already reaching for her coat.

It took my mom's patient, gentle reasoning to finally talk the elders down.

They'd deal with Leo after New Year's Eve. No matter what, they weren't going to let some piece of trash ruin the holiday.

Ours was a big family, with more relatives than you could count, and every year the holidays were loud and lively. This year was no different. For convenience, the elders all gathered at our house.

The men took over the kitchen, cooking up a feast. The women played cards and caught up on gossip. I took the younger kids out to the yard, where we set off firecrackers and fireworks.

Pop after pop after pop, and then the sky lit up. Bursts of color bloomed overhead, reds and golds and silvers, each one blazing against the dark like a brief, brilliant star.

When the clock struck midnight, the yard erupted with voices. "Happy New Year!" Everyone hugged, laughed, wished each other well.

Even my phone screen lit up, buzzing with messages. Friends, old classmates, distant relatives, all sending their wishes. I replied to each one, smiling.

Then I saw it. A message from Leo.

"Done playing around? Where are you? Why haven't you come over yet? My family's all here waiting to meet you!"

My brows pinched together so hard they ached.

He'd abandoned me on the highway for hours. Left me stranded without a second thought. And now he had the nerve to text me like I was the one being difficult?

Before I could even respond, another message came through.

"I don't care where you are. You have one hour to get to my house. The elders are all waiting. Don't be rude."

My blood boiled.

One hour? Who did he think he was giving orders to?

And "the elders are waiting"? As if his family were some kind of royalty I should be honored to visit.

Then he sent a photo.

A group of men crowded around a table, cigarettes pinched between every set of fingers, the air so thick with smoke the image looked hazy. The table was littered with picked-over plates and empty bottles, and the floor around them was scattered with trash.

This was what he meant by "waiting for me"?

This was his idea of waiting?

I snapped a photo of our New Year's Eve dinner and sent it to him. "Sorry, I'm spending the holiday with my family. I don't have the privilege of eating your leftovers, so you'll have to finish them yourselves. Oh, and one more thing—I'd suggest you return my car before this blows up into something none of you can handle."

The chat showed he was typing...

But his reply never came.

What I didn't expect was that the very next morning, Leo showed up at my house with both his parents in tow.

From the way they carried themselves, you'd think they were ready to tear the roof off.

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