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Shaye
Great. Exactly the way I planned to spend New Year’s Eve. Pissed off and alone.
I press my foot on the gas pedal, the engine roaring as my car gathers speed. I pull onto the entrance of the New Jersey Turnpike, not knowing where I’m even headed at this hour. I can’t go home. Max will probably be there with a knife, waiting to skin me alive for getting involved with Nico.
And my parents... God, what the hell is going to become of us? This life, so full of superficial bullshit, it’s toxic to the touch. And once you get sucked in, there’s no path out. Not unless you’re in a body bag.
They think I don’t know. And Lord, I wish I didn’t. But when you listen a bit too long, watch a little too long, and hear a bit too much, it’s not too difficult to piece together the complex jigsaw puzzle of this all-consuming existence. I don’t have it all figured out, but it’s enough to remind me that danger is lurking in every corner. Grandpa Vito had things under his tight control, but now things are at risk of falling apart.
That’s all I need to know.
Nico is on the hook for making sure that doesn’t happen, and my family is the enemy. He’s pretending to help Max, but it’s only to keep him close and under control.
I’m not stupid. I know how this game is played.
Hell, he probably fucked me to get me close, too. Maybe to give him leverage against my dad.
I slam my hands on the steering wheel as the car flies past the next exit. He told me he loved me. I gave him everything I have, and he gave me lip service. Literally and figuratively.
Well, that and an inordinate number of mind-numbing orgasms. Shivers of pleasure ripple through my insides despite the anger bubbling in my veins.
I remove my foot from the gas and pull off the next exit. My car slows at the red light off the ramp, and I squeeze my eyes shut for a brief second. I need to find my brother. He may not be the most stable of people, but things can go downhill very fast if he’s left to his own devices.
Nico has plenty of security people watching over the club, and I’m pretty sure Max wouldn’t go back into the city at this hour. My phone buzzes on the passenger seat and my eyes fly open.
It’s Nico. Well, fuck him, I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. Like how I’m going to stop the demise of my family.
The phone buzzes again…and again…and again.
My fingertips are almost numb from clutching the steering wheel so tight. But I know the second I loosen my grip, they’ll be tempted to stab the Accept button on my screen. Traitors.
The light finally turns green, and I turn right down an unlit service road. Northern Jersey has its fair share of these types of roads because of all of the factories and delightfully scented refineries that occupy the upper part of the state. I realized a bit too late that I’d ended up in kind of a crap hole area because I was more focused on the salacious memories of Nico’s lips all over my body.
I glance at the clock on the dashboard. 11:15 PM. Dammit, I should be back in Nico’s bed, cuddling under the sheets, drunk on champagne, and pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Not the drug…the sensation, of course.
A sensation I fear I’ll never experience again since our party is officially over. Over before it ever got in full swing.
I squint in the darkness and flick on my brights, illuminating at least some of the pavement in front of me. I ease my foot off the gas since I can’t see anything on either side of the road. It’s damn-near pitch black, and you never can tell when an animal is going to prance across the road.
Charming place, I know.
I scroll through my favorite satellite stations, landing on one of my favorite Metallica songs. Perfect. Just what I need. Something else to fuel my rage.
My phone buzzes again and I grip it, unleashing a string of expletives against the man on the other end. But he can’t hear me. I squeeze it tighter. Or maybe he can. Maybe that’s why he keeps calling. Maybe he wants me to react, to scream these very obscene words at him. Maybe he needs to hear how deep my anger runs. Maybe—
Crack!
“Ahh! Sonofabitch!” I yell. Damn potholes! The roads out here are like active minefields with new potholes blowing up the concrete on a daily basis, and my car just crashed into one of the giant pits littering my path. The loud bang assures me that my rim is completely fucked. Hundreds of bucks down the drain. I grit my teeth, heading for the on ramp for the turnpike so I can get home and figure out what the hell to do next.
A bright flashing light coming from the dashboard startles me back to my current reality…a tire that is rapidly depressurizing, and one that won’t get me to the Stop sign even at the end of this road, much less home.
I pull over, off of the main part of the road, but since there’s no curb to speak of, I’m technically still in the road. In the dark. By myself.
Can this night get any more fabulous?
I flip on my hazards and dig around in the glove compartment for the emergency services card. I wonder if anyone will even answer. Eleven-thirty. I roll my eyes. Everyone else in the world is probably drinking themselves into a stupor by now, getting ready to watch that sparkly Swarovski crystal ball slither down its cord closer to the crowd of inebriated people below.
I’d like to be there. I’d like to be just about anywhere except here.
