Page 88 of Hidden

Well, with insults like that, how could I not?

Honestly, these people didn’t understand the wordfragile.

As if it would come as a surprise to anyone that I had decided to drown my sorrows after leaving Gabriella. They weren’t even the slightest bit appreciative that I had taken my latest breakdown elsewhere instead of parking inside the clubhouse.

The car pulled away from the kerb, and for a little while I simply closed my eyes and listened to the hum of the road beneath us. It should have been soothing. Usually, the rhythm of movement helped. The engine. The turns. The low thrum beneath everything. It reminded me of rides at night, of open roads and headlights and the brief illusion that if you drove fast enough, hard enough, long enough, you could outrun whatever was waiting for you when you stopped.

Didn’t work, obviously.

Gabriella still waited at the end of every thought.

At the end of every road.

At the edge of every bloody night.

I shifted against the seat and swallowed hard, trying not to let her face rise up again. Her hand on the glass. Her forehead bowed. The tear I hadn’t been able to wipe away. That one small shake of her head that had somehow managed to say everything and nothing at once.

Don’t come in.

Don’t leave me.

Don’t make this worse.

Don’t stop.

It was tearing me to fucking pieces.

The radio crackled, then settled on some old pop song, all bright synth and dramatic vocals. I tried to ignore it. Truly I did. But Rachel, being Rachel, was apparently incapable of letting any moment remain dignified for more than thirty seconds.

“Oh, I love this one,” she announced, already turning the volume up.

Dante’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t start.”

“I’m just listening to the radio.”

“You’re never just listening to the radio.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Rachel inhaled deeply and belted, “I’M ALL OUT OF LOVE, I’M SO LOST WITHOUT YOU—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Dante snarled.

I opened one eye.

Rachel had turned fully in her seat now, one hand dramatically on her chest, the other outstretched towards the windscreen like she was performing to a sold-out arena insteadof a miserable man in the driver’s seat and one drunk idiot rotting in the back.

“I KNOW YOU WERE RIGHT, BELIEVIN’ FOR SO LONG—”

“Rachel.”

“I’M ALL OUT OF LOVE, WHAT AM I WITHOUT YOU—”

“Rachel!” Dante barked, his voice cracking through the car hard enough that even I flinched.