Troublesome Trucks Face Novels & Stories

What I found instead made my temper spike almost immediately. I stared at the figures, then refreshed the page, convinced there had been some mistake. There wasn’t. More than half of our truckers had gone on strike. The remaining drivers had restricted themselves to routes with minimal profit, avoiding anything that required crossing Sage’s territory or paying higher tolls. “This is a disaster,” I said aloud. I ran a hand through my hair, scrolling through report after report. Complaints were stacked on top of each other. Missed deliveries. Broken contracts. Rising costs with no compensation.

I ordered as I wiped the stinging sweat from my eyes and loaded the last four slugs into my tube. "The flatbed truck is blocking the main driveway completely and the tires are totally shredded from the blast, so we will have to push that three-ton chassis out of the way with our own steel bumpers if we expect to reach the valley road alive," Paolo said as he ran toward the driver's seat of the lead vehicle and started pumping the gas pedal until the engine roared to life with a thick cloud of exhaust.

Again with silence we travel, none of us saying a word, we are both dealing with our own things. I'm more relieved as we enter into the main road, believing I'll be home soon, all for the hope to diminish when the truck starts coughing up. The truck shakes and makes weird sounds. " What's happening?" I glance at Wesley. " Shit," he mumbles under his breath. The car suddenly stops and just like that, we have encountered a breakdown. Why now? I slump in my seat. It's going to be a long way home.

Alpha Jones disclosed. Sophie picked up the documents and stared at Luke. "If you can recognize these, then you should be able to understand it" she assumed. "Of course, they are trucks" Luke groaned. "Trucks?" Alpha Jones smirked in confusion. "Yes, but not like the one Redmond ran over you" he clarified. "Tractor trailers, actually" he concluded. "So why are they so important to him?" Alpha Jones asked again. "It's his business, what else should be important to him?" Luke seemed displeased.

The truck shook and that caused her to bump her head. "Ouch!" Amour rubbed her forehead, sitting up. Her eyes scanned around and all she could see were bushes upon bushes. The truck came to a halt so she took that opportunity and jumped down the truck then she began running away immediately. "What is wrong? Boss is waiting for us with the ammunition" One of the mobsters said as he got down. The driver of the truck got down and crouched down, checking the tyre. "The tyre bursted" He muttered "F**k!!" The other one hissed and ran his hands through his hair.

Benito clasps his hands together, pleading to his boss. “Fuck, Benito! Out of all the trucks, you fucking lost that one! Do you know how much everything that was in there costs, idiot? How did you lose the truck?” What was in the truck; I need to know how you are making money, Petro. I am concerned about how your truck business can make so much money in three months.

Travis said, picking up the keys for the work truck out of the bowl we use as a catch-all for office resources: car keys, business cards, things like that. We descended the stairs together and got into the work truck, a large, charcoal four-seater beast of a truck with four-wheel drive. Travis got into the driver’s seat, and I settled in the passenger seat. When he first started driving the work truck, Travis was a nervous wreck about it. He’d been a long-time lover of sporty coupes and was convinced he’d kill someone with the truck. It took me forcing him to drive the truck whenever we had to go somewhere together for him to get used to it. Now, it was habit to have him drive any time we we

“But he needs probation.” “He?” Max pointed at the truck. “Me or the truck?” “Both.” Zach took the truck from Issa and placed it in the center of the table, right between the two water glasses. “Probation accepted. Until the food comes, the truck parks here. After that, Trouble may hold it again, as long as Trouble does not use his mouth for sabotage.” Max stared at the truck, then me. “What’s sabotage?” “Something you’ve been doing since birth,” I answered.

She shrugged, having the last donut, mind you they were six. "Mr. Adams needs to tell his guests to use Uber's next time." I said clearly nettled by the whole situation. I didn't know this Mr. Adams but I didn't mind walking up to his mansion to give him a piece of my mind. How self centered can he be, he has his whole freaking parking. Like the winters garage can accommodate six cars and I'm pretty sure his was designed the same way and he just has to let his guests park on another man's property, how imprudent!

Silence fell between them—heavy, suffocating. They both knew how bad things could get… if their suspicions turned out to be true. Mr. Harthwore wouldn’t need to lift a finger. His son, Joshua, was more than capable—perhaps even worse. If it came to that, he would make sure the driver from that night was found and punished. “The truck has been involved in multiple incidents,” Adrian said finally. “From the records, most could pass as accidents… but not all.” He leaned forward slightly. “What happened last night? That didn’t feel random.”