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“Taking the scenic route.”
The fuck?
“Let me out, okay? You can hate me, stick pins in the voodoo doll I’m sure you have of me, toilet-paper my new house when I’m no longer homeless. My mom will flip her shit if you turn me in. I could lose my job!” I slam the cuffs against the seat while he ignores me. “Let me out of here, Gage Perry, or so help me God, you’ll regret it. Don’t think I won’t make it my life’s mission to make yours a living hell.”
I yelp, and my body slams against the steel cage in front of me when he swerves to the shoulder of the road and brakes to a hard stop.
“You want out?” He kills the engine and steps out of the car.
Seconds later, my door flies open, nearly causing me to fall out of my seat.
“Then, get out.”
I scoot my butt against the seat and slowly slide out. I square my shoulders up as soon as my feet hit the pavement and shake away the loose hair from my face, blowing at the strands that aren’t cooperating. The handcuffs clink when I spin around and hold my arms up behind me.
“Cuffs need to be taken off,” I tell him.
Silence.
I peek over my shoulder at his failure to move. His cold stare is replaced with amusement.
“Not happening, sweetheart.” He tips his head toward the street. “Enjoy your day, pyro.”
“What?” My voice rises when I scan my surroundings, and he walks back to the car. “It’s twenty minutes back to townin a car. It’ll take at least an hour to get back on foot!”
He pauses, his hand clutching the door handle, and fixes his gaze on me. “I did what was asked of me—to let you out. Enjoy your walk. Maybe it’ll give you time to think about your actions.”
I shake my arms in a sad attempt to rid myself of the cuffs, like I’m damn Houdini. He slips into the cruiser, and the engine starts.
Screw him.
I won’t allow him the pleasure of witnessing me upset. My breakdown will have to wait until he’s out of sight. The car stays running in neutral while I straighten my shoulders and walk along the side of the road.
It’s no easy feat, walking with your hands clasped behind your back. Pride kicks inside me when I pass the cruiser, and shock fills his face at the realization that I’m not playing his games. His not pulling away confirms his plan wasn’t to leave me stranded. It was a ploy to hear me beg.
The passenger window rolls down.
“All right, fuck, I feel bad,” he yells. “Get in.”
I walk faster and force myself not to look back when he steers onto the street. “Fuck off.”
For a brief moment, the thought that he might leave me stranded passes my mind. The old Gage would’ve never done something so cruel, but this isn’t the man I loved in high school. This man is different, someone I recognize yet don’t at the same time.
Instead of speeding off, he cruises beside me, the car not going any faster than what I’m walking. Gage might hate me, but he’d never leave me in a possibly dangerous situation. He’s been that way for as long as I can remember. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
“Jesus, I forgot how goddamn stubborn you are,” he shouts.
“And I forgot how big of an asshole you are. Good thing I dumped your ass.”
An ache rocks through my chest in regret as soon as the words leave my mouth. I look over at him, knowing they hit him harder as he goes stiff in his seat, memories and anger flashing across his face as a reminder of how much I hurt him.
It was a low blow.
Gage hadn’t done anything wrong when I broke up with him. I didn’t leave because I was unhappy. His begging for me to stay broke my heart as much as it did his, but my reason for walking away wasn’t for me. Rather, it was for someone else. I ignored his calls for weeks and had my roommate lie when he’d show up at my dorm room to talk to me.
After three weeks of rejection, he left me a voice mail telling me to never contact him again. I listened to it on repeat, hot tears rolling down my swollen cheeks, and the severity of what I’d done clung to my heart with regret.
“Get in the fucking car, Lauren.”
