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Chapter 1265 Why the Hell Do You Think You Can Hit My Car?

  • Gale Bush’s rental was dirt cheap—just a little over a hundred bucks. It was a clunker from over a decade ago, patched with different shades of paint in several spots. One look and you knew it had been in the shop more times than you could count. The AC barely blew cool air, and the stereo might as well have been mute.
  • Stuck in traffic and bored out of his mind, Gale just played some music on his phone.
  • “Are you kidding me? We’re all stuck getting off this overpass! Why do you keep trying to squeeze in front of me?”
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