Disclaimer: The characters in my stories are completely made up characters and have temporally been given borrowed names for the sole purpose of satisfying the qualifications for posting on this fanfiction site. These stories are fiction and should be perceived as such. They in no way reflect the lives, beliefs or views of any persons living or dead and any similarities are coincidental. I am not affiliated with any company or professional wrestler in any way. No disrespect or copyright infringement intended. And if any of my favs happen upon my stories, I hope your not offended because this is not

New Story. I'll update as much as life allows. I hope you'll enjoy it and I look forward to your reviews. :D

Chapter 1

With one final ka-thunk, the engine in my aging car gave out, barely allowing time to steer it onto the side of the road.

"Ugh." I was disgusted.

I was stranded. Midway through my journey. On a day when there wasn't a moment to spare.

Though I knew it wasn't going to do any good, I tried turning the ignition once, twice – three times. Not so much as a spark. Damn it!

Automobiles were the worst machines ever made. Always breaking down. Never trustworthy. Syphoning every spare dime. Taking the bus was more economical, but that didn't travel to where I needed to go.

Why the hell did they bring those things to Jenithiyah? It wouldn't have hurt my feelings if cars had remained as lost as the outside world. We had the perfect paradise and people were intent on making life as close to their homeland as possible. At least they maintained some sense of sanity with their environmental regulations. Jenithiyah wouldn't fall victim to the pollutions – but the restrictions sure made crappy cars.

Right then, I longed for the gasoline run motors of America – then reminded myself that compared to where I'd a few years before – a broken-down car on the side of the road was a lot better than the cold, windy doorway of an abandoned building, left-over meals from trash cans, and hiding from the police.

Running away was probably not the smartest decision of my youth. I was an adult where I came from and it felt like a punishment when the officials placed me in foster care. It wasn't my fault that I'd survived a horrific cruise line disaster and floated into an unescapable place. I'd spent too much time feeling bitter and sorry for myself when I should have taken advantage.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" I stared out the window at the man filling my vision. "This isn't the best place to park."

I rolled down the window. "Well, I'm not parked here by choice." I smarted off before giving the good Samaritan a proper glance.

"Jo?"

I focused on the face that belonged to a familiar voice. Shock nearly knocked me off my feet. He was older, more man than boy now, but I'd know Roman anywhere. I'd fallen in love with him the moment we were introduced. Being labeled as his sister was what pushed me over the edge. What I'd felt – that one kiss – had been beautiful and one word made it ugly and dirty. Despite how nice the foster family had been to me, I couldn't remain.

"Jo Stanton? Girl, where have you been?"

His voice. I'd thought I'd never hear that deep rumble again. The last time I'd seen him, he'd been hip deep in the ocean with a surfboard under his arm.

"Roman," I said, keeping my voice remarkably calm and flat. He smiled and it took all my effort not reveal that those old feelings rushed over me like those waves on that last day. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah, about five years – when you took off – my parents still talk about you – if you're okay – alive – dead – in case you were wondering." He leaned his forearm on the car. "Pop the hood."

Roman disappeared to examine my engine. I found the strength to step outside the car, being careful not to nervously stumble. I watched as he checked and fiddled with wires and caps, trying not to think too much about what my ex foster brother might think of me.

"Water in the oil." He diagnosed.

"Duh, I put water in the tank this morning."

He chuckled. "Yes, but it doesn't belong in the heads, Shortcake."

I didn't know what to think of him using his nickname for me.

"I know a guy with a tow truck." He pulled out his phone. "Shouldn't take long …"

"No, that's alright." My bank account couldn't take the hit. "At this point, I'm ready to give it to whoever dares take on the responsibility."

"I didn't say I was going to charge you."

"You own the tow service?"

"Guilty. I don't charge family and you are still family." He closed the hood after typing his message. He expression turned solemn. "Why did you leave, Jo?"

"Because. You kept throwing around words like family."

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