“Hmm, I don’t know about that. You two know each other better than anyone.”
“Knew, Mom,” I quip back. “Past tense.”
“Elle, I?—”
“We just got to the impound lot, I’ll call you later.”
“You—”
I hang up before she can finish her sentence. I don’t know what she was going to say but I’m sure I have no interest in hearing it.
“I can handle it from here,” I tell my dad while I unbuckle.
“Alrighty,” he sings. “I can stick around, make sure there aren’t any hiccups.”
I flash him an assuaging smile. “Not necessary, I’ve got it.” I lean over and give his cheek a brief kiss. “Thanks Dad, I promise I’ll pay you back this week.”
He leaves with a wave and I stay unmoving with my arms crossed until his car rounds the corner, out of sight. I wouldn’t put it past him to turn around and spy, so I remain rooted for a few minutes longer before going inside the ramshackle building.
The impound lot is exactly as bleak as I imagined it would be—cracked pavement, a rusting chain-link fence, and an office that smells like stale coffee and old motor oil. The guy behind the counter doesn’t look up when I walk in, too busy scrolling on his phone.
“Hi,” I start, my voice tight with discomfort, “I’m here to pick up my car.”
He glances up, his attention bouncing between me and the paperwork I’m sliding across the counter.
“Driver’s license?”
I pull it from my wallet, and he snatches it up like I might bolt for the gate. After typing something into the computer, he nods. “Yeah, it’s here. Black Mercedes, right?”
“That’s the one,” I reply, with a fake smile and a squeaky voice to match.
He practically throws my license back to me. Once I grab it, I start to move but he lets out a whistle, raising his brows with a bored expression. “Not so fast there, Ma’am. Gotta pay up first.”
After he tells me the fee, I’m nearly seeing red. I could buy a designer bag for what today has cost me.
Reluctantly, I hand over my credit card, ignoring his evil little smirk. This place is a rip-off and he knows it. Seems proud of it, too.
He hands me my card back and jerks his thumb toward the yard. “You’re clear. Spot 47. Keys are in it.”
I pushout the back exit, the heat of the afternoon sun beating down on me, burning past the layer of my blazer. Rows of cars stretch across the lot, each one covered in a thin coating of dust. Near the back, my black car waits, its once-sleek surface faded, now sinking into the bleakness that surrounds it.
The moment I reachit, I yank the door open, brushing away the grime on the handle. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I slump back and sigh, closing my eyes. The last few hours blurring together like a fever dream.
But as I press the start button, the engine sputtering to life, my mind wanders back to Dominic—those deep, searching eyes, the way my name rolled off his lips like it still carried meaning, like I still mean something. My chest constricts, a twist of emotion settling in my ribs, impossible to swallow. With my fists clenched, my nails dig into my palms, as if the pain is enough to deter my intrusive thoughts.
Easing out of the lot, I pull onto the main road, exhaling with relief. At least now, I’m back in the driver’s seat—literally and figuratively.
CHAPTER 3
Dominic
HUMBLE-BRAGGING ASSHOLE
PRESENT
Idon’t know which is worse—the dull ache behind my eyelids, a testament to a shit night’s sleep, or the relentless throb in my cock from tossing and turning all night as my thoughts were consumed solely of Ellie.
Every time I closed my eyes, her piercing gaze would pull me back, a weave of desire and torment so tangled, I’m pretty sure it was her anger that turned me on. I couldn’t get over how damn beautiful she looked—even pissed. Hell, maybe especially pissed, with her cheeks flushed and her voice cutting like a whip.
