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I tried to get away. I tried to run, but damn, even naked, balls deep in a girl, Tristan is a prime athlete.
He caught me before I made it out the front door.
My shoulders still ache from being shoved hard into the wall. The pain is so bothersome, I try to focus on rolling the tension out without jerking around the steering wheel.
But like a punch in the gut, his declaration hits me.
“If you weren’t such a stone-cold fucking ice queen, I wouldn’t have to fuck all your friends.”
I laughed. At least I think I did before he grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me into the wall again.
For a moment, the memory becomes all too real and I can smell his breath from when he leaned into me.
It smelled of him and Ashley.
“You think this changes anything? It changes nothing. You still belong to me, Bree.”
Thank god there’s no one on the road behind me. Jerking the steering wheel to the right, I pull over and manage to jump out before my stomach revolts.
With the sun beating down on me, I slap my hand against the side of my car, bend over, and puke my guts up.
With each clench of my stomach, I purge a little more of the last four years up.
All the choices I’ve made.
All my fuck ups and mistakes.
If it wasn’t for the hot metal searing into the tender skin of my palm, I’d wonder if this was a bad dream. But no, this isn’t a dream, this is my life. A life that’s so twisted and fucked up by others, I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Once my stomach stops clenching, I straighten and wipe my mouth off with my arm.
But I keep my palm pressed against the hot metal.
The pain… it’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling inside, but it keeps me here.
It keeps me in this moment.
And I desperately want to stay in this moment.
I’d rather be stuck out here in this scorching heat, puking my guts up, than reliving what happened this morning all over again.
I rather be stuck out here in this wasteland, alone and completely isolated, than return to my gilded cage back in California.
I can only stand the pain for so long though before I have no choice but to yank my hand back.
And as soon as the pain begins to fade away, before I can even catch my breath, the memory delivers one last brutal slap.
“There’s no point in telling your father, he knows. He’s always known, so save your fucking breath.”
* * *
The road blurs, the yellow and white lines thinning until they look as if they were painted on with highlighters. I’ve been staring at the asphalt for so long my damn eyes are starting to feel gritty and my ass is numb.
After my little stop on the side of the road, I’ve been driving for eight hours, nonstop. Running away from the mess I left behind me.
Afraid it will catch up to me if I stop.
My shoulders tense and my hands tighten around the steering wheel as my stepfather’s house comes into view through my windshield.
