AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Nine
The further we got from Remmington Hill the better I began to feel.
I focused on simply enjoying the smooth ride inside a car I only fantasized about in pictorials.
“I have to admit I was surprised when I learned you’re a car connoisseur.”
“I can’t decide if it’s sweet or creepy that you took the time to find that out,” I murmured, removing my Bulgari sunglasses from my clutch and sliding them into place.
They made me feel like I had some layer of protection against him.
“Being transparent, I wasn’t looking for the information specifically. I always do vigorous background checks on women I’m in a relationship with, and it was presented to me.”
“Relationship? So we’re officially a couple all of a sudden?” I semi-turned in my seat and quirked a brow at him. “I never said I wanted to be your girlfriend.”
“No?” He looked over, giving me his full attention. “What are you to me then?” he asked steadily accelerating. The Mustang’s engine revved as the speedometer jumped to play catch up.
“Mateo!” I grabbed for the standard oh-shit handle but the damn car didn’t have one, leaving me to clutch the seatbelt.
The sound of the engine was like gathering thunder, growing louder as the Mustang continued to accelerate.
He weaved in and out of cars so rapidly the contents of my bladder were about to take a leave of absence without my consent.
“I didn’t catch your answer,” he casually stated.
“I’m going to be dead if you don’t learn how to drive!” I yelled as he very narrowly missed rear-ending a minivan with stick figures on the back window. The engine clicked as he merged into the right lane before beginning to slow down. My shoulder collided with the passenger door as my body slid on the seat.
He laughed under his breath.
“It’s not funny!” I snapped, before laughing a little in spite of myself. I placed a hand over my racing heart, two minutes away from stopping altogether.
“Calm down, amada, I control the machine the machine doesn’t control me. Plus, that was really your fault.” His shoulder slightly lifted in a shrug.
“How the hell was that my fault!?”
“Language.” He shot me a look. “I felt so distraught when you said weren’t mine I momentarily lost control of my emotions and in return…the loss of this vehicle.
“I’m glad you came to your senses at the last minute and let me know it was your poor attempt at humor,” he said amicably. “I wouldn’t advise you do it, again. I’d hate to give you whiplash.”
Oh, my god. I gaped at him. “Please don’t be a psychopath,” I pleaded to some invisible third party.
“If I was, I don’t think saying please would suddenly make me better, but I can assure you all my therapists said I wasn’t.”
I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“I’m not a psychopath Elena. Not by textbook definition, anyway.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve loved and I’ve lost.”
His answer proved his point, and set a dark tone for the mood.
Unable to come up with something meaningful to say, I asked where we were going.
“Dior’s,” he answered, merging into another lane, a lot more cautiously than before, but still carelessly cutting off the woman now behind us. I tossed up a prayer for safety and gripped the side of my seat, placing one hand over the knots that had formed in my stomach. I didn’t know where Dior’s was, so I went back to being mute, staring out the window at the hazy orange sky and letting my thoughts distract me.
If this were weeks ago, I’d be prepping for a long night at the Petrol station. Eva would be prepping for the latest party.
