“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He starts to pull me towards his car, and every siren is now blaring in my head. I need to get out of this situation.Now.
I pull back, fighting his hold, but he’s too strong. My wrist burns from the grip he has on it. I let out a scream, but it’s only halfway out before his hand is over my mouth, and I’m being dragged to his car. I can barely breathe, but I put up as much of a fight as I can, knowing my life might actually depend on it right now.
No matter what I do, he still overpowers me. He’s more than twice my size. I don’t have a fighting chance. He shoves me into the car from the driver’s side, pushing me over the console and into the passenger seat, locking the doors and quickly taking off so I don’t have the chance to get out.
“Eli, what the fuck! What are you doing?”
“Just relax,” he says calmly.
“Eli.” My voice comes out high-pitched and strained. “Unlock the doors!”
“It’s okay, Lydia. It’s gonna be okay.”
He doesn’t look at me. His hands are steady at ten and two. He keeps driving…fast and then faster. The houses blur behind us. Whatever safety I had is gone. I turn back to look at him, scared. I’m suddenly thrown back into a memory I’ve tried so hard to get out of my head. I’m eight years old again, and scared for my life. It’s the exact same feeling I had back then…I see my father at the wheel instead of Eli. Two men who were supposed to protect me…who ruined me. I snap my attention back to the road in front of us, the dotted lines going by so fast that they look solid, the buildings around us blurring, the car swerving into the opposite side of the road. I scream every time he jerks the car, trying to right it, and then I watch him pull something from the back seat, the car fully heading towards the curb now.
“Eli!” I scream.
He leans back up and jerks the car away from hitting the sidewalk. I watch as he opens the beer bottle and downs it quickly.
“What are you doing?”
He thrust the bottle out in my direction. “Calm down, babe. Take a sip. You’ll need it.”
I shake my head, tears running down my face. “No.”
He just shrugs and finishes it off before tossing it outside the window, not caring where it lands.
“Slow down. Please. Please slow down, Eli. You’re swerving.”
He doesn’t answer. His face is void of all emotions. My breathing is beyond ragged, and I press my hands to the dash like I can slow the car with the sheer desperate force. “Eli!”
He leans back, one hand flicking off the radio so there’s no noise but the engine and my panicked breathing.
“I told you,” he says calmly. “I can’t live without you. And you don’t just get to—move on.”
“What does that mean?” I have to force every word out through my sobs.
We blow past an intersection. The light was yellow, then red, then gone. I grip the door so hard my fingers cramp. “Let me out. I’ll get out right now. Just pull over.”
He slows to make a turn. It’s slight, but it’s there. I yank the handle and slam my body into the door, and it throws me back, locked. I feel the sob punch up from my stomach.
“Don’t.” His voice changes quickly. It’s not gentle anymore. He pulls something out from the center console and lays it across my thighs. The cold taps my skin. The shape, even in the dark, is still unmistakable. I physically freeze and stop breathing.
“Where did you—” My words are frantic. “Where did you get that?”
He runs it along my thigh, getting closer to my hips. “One of my dad’s. Nice, right?” He tilts his head. The look is wrong, off-kilter. “Don’t be stupid, okay?”
We turn down a side road. Gravel crunches under the tires. There are train tracks right next to us, and past them, all I see are bridges sticking out against the glow of the city skyline. The air smells like chemicals and iron. It’s colder here; the rest of the world feels so far away.
This is it. This is where I die…
Tonight, he puts the last nail in my coffin.
He throws the car in park but leaves the engine running. He keeps the gun on my lap like a dare, like a leash to keep me under control. When he finally looks at me, his eyes are wet, and for a second, my brain wants to translate that to him caring. Then he grins, and I know those tears aren’t for me.
“You know, I loved you,” he says casually, gesturing with the gun in the air. My stomach flips. “I would’ve given you everything, you know? If you would have just…let me.”
