Grace Is Stranded on Highway

See Dressing for Interview for part I.

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Driving home, Grace couldn't stop thinking about the interview, especially where she thought she could've provided better responses. But overall, she thought it went well and felt confident about being accepted to Vanderbilt, the college of her dreams.

Her car began to rattle and shake, so she pulled it over to the side of a deserted highway. She stepped out to figure out what happened. "Shit, a flat tire." With a sigh, she called for roadside assistance. Someone will be there in thirty minutes, she was told. Wishing Hannah was there--her presence always a comfort -- Grace called her.

"Grace, what's up? How did the interview go?"

"The interview went well, I think." She tried to sound upbeat but the frustration from her current predicament seeped into her tone. "But I'm stuck, Han. Flat tire. In the middle of freakin' nowhere."

Hannah's voice turned from casual to sharp with concern. "Are you safe? Do you want me to come get you?"

Grace hesitated, the vulnerability of her situation pressing in. She could feel the weight of the setting sun, the encroaching darkness both literal and metaphorical. She told herself to stop being paranoid and a burden.

"No, no. It's okay, help's on the way. Just want to let you know where I'm at. I'll call you when I get home."

Minutes stretched into eternities until headlights sliced through the dimming twilight. Tony "Tow Truck" Malone rolled up in a rig that had seen better days. Grace got out of her car to meet him, the breeze playing with the hem of her skirt, whipping it against her slender thighs while her blouse fluttered against her tight frame. One hand tried to keep her long dark hair out of her face.

Tony hopped out of his truck to meet Grace, and a grin broadened across his scruffy face. His eyes roamed over her, lingering on her shapely legs perched on high heels, the curve of her hips, and the swell of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. "Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes," he muttered to himself.

Tony wanted his hardened cock to fuck Grace's pussy then and there, even if it meant burying his mother alive to do so. "I'd impale that yellow twat so deep and hard, she'll be making ching chong noises," he said to himself.

Grace stiffened at his approaching gaze, suddenly feeling the chill of the night more acutely. She wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to shield her body from his ogling eyes. Her defensive posture triggered in Tony a sense of intrigue, dominance, and conquest that made his erection even harder, now pulsing with primal urgency. The intoxicating mixture of innocence and vulnerability in a beautiful young woman heightened his arousal.

"Getting chilly out here, huh?" he drawled, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he watched her hug herself tighter.

"Yes, d-didn't expect it to get this cold." Grace tried to keep her voice steady. "You're here to fix my tire, right?"

"Sure thing, princess," he said as he looked at her car, then back to her.

Tony assessed the tire. He whistled low, shaking his head. "Looks like a bad blowout, darlin'. We'll need to replace it with your spare. Shouldn't take long."

Tony reached into the trunk for the spare tire, grunting as he wrestled it from its compartment. An idea hatched in his mind as he pulled it out, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

Turning away from Grace, Tony knelt next to the spare and pulled out a knife he had tucked in his boot. With a swift motion, he nicked the rubber.

He stood up and turned back to Grace while putting on a sympathetic expression. "Looks like your spare's no good either," he said, holding up the tire. "Must've got some damage from sittin' too long in your trunk or somethin'."

He let the tire drop to the ground and shrugged his massive shoulders, feigning disappointment. "Sorry, darlin'. I can't change your flat tire as I planned. Gotta tow your sweet little car to my repair shop."

Grace bit her lower lip. "How long is that going to take?"

Tony shrugged again, his smirk returning. "Shouldn't take long, princess. Shop isn't busy right now."

She hesitated but what choice did she have? Stranded and alone, she acquiesced and climbed into his truck. As she did, her skirt betrayed her modesty, sliding up mid-thigh--a fact not missed by Tony's ogling eyes. The way he stared made her uncomfortable, and she quickly shifted in her seat. With a tug, she pulled her skirt down just above her knees

The ride was tense, Tony's lusty glances made Grace's skin crawl the entire time. She clutched her purse tighter to her chest, wishing she could vanish into the seat. She worked to keep her focus out the window, counting trees, anything to ignore Tony's invasive scans of her body. She began texting Hannah, letting her know that she's okay even though she felt anything but that. "I'm just being paranoid," she told herself. Hannah didn't text back, as she was at yoga class.

"So, what kinda oriental are you?" Tony drawled, the question slicing through the uncomfortable silence. Grace flinched inwardly at the sound of the word "oriental," her instincts screaming to correct him, to scold for using an outdated and pejorative term to describe someone, but fear kept her quiet.

"Vietnamese," she said, hoping her concise answer would stymie further conversation.

"Vietnamese, eh? I like you people. Hard working, got morals." His hand smacked the steering wheel for emphasis. "Unlike some other types of people, if you catch my drift," Tony said with a wink.

Grace held her tongue, but told herself, "How predictable, a redneck bigot." Her expression remained emotionless. Undeterred, Tony continued trying to engage her in a conversation.

"You know," leaning in closer as if sharing a secret, "I reckon oriental women are the most beautiful women out there." Grace shifted uncomfortably at the blatant objectification. Tony was aware of her discomfort as he rambled on. "Something about that skin, silky smooth. And the hair, so long and dark, like a freakin' waterfall at midnight." His chuckle was low and husky. "And those eyes," Tony sighed, "like almonds dipped in honey."

What a creep, Grace thought to herself.

"Anyways, Grace, where do you live? Where you driving to?"

"Atlanta area, I'm driving home."

"Atlanta, huh? Peach of a place." Tony laughed at his perverse innuendo. "So you're a big city girl, all sophisticated and shit. Bet a sweet thing like you has got the boys chasing after your tail, right?"

Grace looked at her legs and wished they were covered with a burlap sack. "I... I focus on my studies mostly."

Tony nodded in acknowledgement as he guffawed. "So you're one of those goodie two-shoes, studious girls, huh? Well, ain't that something. Me, I was never much into school, well, except for the girls." He shook his head with a wry grin, like he had secrets that could curdle innocence.

"Pretty outfit for a day on the road. You dress'd up for someone special?"

"No, it was for an interview at Vanderbilt University."

"So you gonna be a college girl, huh? And at a school like Vanderbilt, you must be smart. Well of course, you're Asian! And I bet you turned all the heads on campus," he said as he imagined running his hand up her smooth legs in search of something moist. "So whadya wanna study?"

Grace unexpectedly smiled. "I'll be pre-med."

Tony whistled. "A brainy chick. You gonna be one of those sexy doctors? All 'dem guys purposely getting sick just to see you?" Tony laughed at his teasing, disgusting Grace. She pressed her knees closer to each other.

The truck slowed as they pulled into a lot that was more junkyard than shop, the neon sign reading 'Malone's Garage' flickering.

"Here we are," the truck jerking to a halt that sent Grace lurching forward. Tony's hand shot out to steady her, but it lingered too long on the curve of her shoulder, sending a jolt through her body as if touched by a live wire.

The repair shop's shuttered windows and grease-stained walls reflected Tony's disheveled and grimy appearance. The air reeked of oil and something else--something sour and unsettling. Grace winced, feeling the dirtiness of the place clinging to her skin like an unwanted caress.

Tony caught Grace's disgust at the mucky surroundings.

"Don't worry, princess, you won't be here long," spitting tobacco juice onto the cracked pavement. "Just next door, Sammi's Tavern. You can wait there." He gestured to a neon sign buzzing in the night like a beacon for lost souls. "I'll walk you over and introduce you."

With a booming voice that cut through the din of clinking glasses and colliding pool balls, he introduced her. "Folks, meet Grace," he said as if he were introducing a new girlfriend to his family. "City girl, brainy type, headed for some swanky university. While I'm working on her car, how 'bout showing her some southern hospitality?"