Urban Decay
an excerpt

He was kind of cute, in a Southern farm-boy kind of way. If you were into that kind of thing, anyway. Unfortunately he seemed to be extremely naïve. Like how he kept trying to make small-talk when Raina was focusing all her energy on not rear-ending the centenarian driving the car ahead of them. How did this guy have a license? He couldn’t be moving at more than ten miles per hour. Raina was half ready to pull over and walk the rest of the way to Crafton.
“I don’t know. A few years,” she said distractedly.
“Aarons seems like a good guy to work for.”
“Stephen? Yeah. He’s okay.” She pummeled the horn. “Jesus Christ! This isn’t a parking lot!” she yelled to nobody in particular. “We aren’t getting any younger here, and that includes you, gramps!”
“That’s my uncle,” said Tim quietly.
“Your uncle is slower than hell and should not be on the road.”
Tim coughed. “It was a joke. He’s not really my uncle. But you were supposed to get all quiet and say, ‘oh, how embarrassing, you have to be kidding!’ and all that, and then I would say-“
“I know how a joke works. Fuck!” she shouted, braking hard as the car in front of her turned without giving any indication. “Oh, holy hell, I am going to kill someone today. Do you know what time I woke up this morning?”
“So I guess you aren’t the kind of girl who enjoys jokes, then.”
She accelerated. “Not remotely.”