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I’m ready to get out of the car and run away screaming, but I don’t know this side of town well enough to make an escape.
At least I can pretend to type on my phone while he throws his tantrum.
“Whatever, fuck it. I’m just going to run in and get the wraps,” he says, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him. He leaves the keys in the ignition.
Even though this part of town looks a bit sketchy, I’m grateful to get a few minutes without him. I keep reminding myself that this is what I wanted, but I’m unable to extract any solace from that fact. As the minutes pass, I realize that my apprehension has tripled since we left my apartment.
For someone with a family as rich and influential as Eric’s, you’d think I’d be much more inclined to talk myself into dating him. It would be an easy way to avoid the poverty and struggle that my parents experienced when they were first married, and I could have a lifestyle envied by millions.
But when I think about how cruel he’s been to me alongside his outbursts and insatiable ego, I’m not convinced.
My phone battery is dying, so I attempt to preserve it by glancing around the area to keep myself occupied while I wait for Eric to come back. When I look through the window of the gas station, Eric appears to be having a lively conversation with the cashier.
We’re going to be here for a while.
He doesn’t have a charger for my phone in his car, which I should have expected. His phone is brand new, and mine is at least three years old. I’m sure he and Angelique had a good laugh about that at the State Fair.
As I survey the buildings and cars around me, I see Ruslan approaching the gas station from the sidewalk.
I know he said he lives nearby, but what are the chances that I’d see him so soon after he dropped me off?
Not only is he here, which is weird enough, but he looks enraged.
Eric was angry before, but his anger reflects that of an emotionally constipated thirteen-year-old boy. His voice even cracked when he was shouting at his steering wheel.
Ruslan’s anger is different.
I can feel it from across the parking lot, and the heat from his fury intensifies as soon as he sees me.
I haven’t done a single thing to this man, and he’s stalking me? How did he even know to find me here?
I think about calling 9-1-1, but I fear that Eric would retaliate in a horrific and unexpected way if I did. If I’m terrified of whatEricwould do, I can’t imagine the resources that Ruslan has to use against me.
Eric might be rich and snotty, and I’m certain that his family has been embezzling from their company, but Ruslan is a state-of-the-art criminal. He’s is the type of person that Eric’s father would owe money to.
At first, I’m hoping that he’s got a bruised ego for some reason and is just bad at hiding it. I don’t know him well at all, but based on what I’ve seen, it wouldn’t be hard to believe.
When he approaches Eric’s car, I begin to panic.
He opens the driver’s side door, practically tearing it off its hinges.
“What the fuck are you trying to do to me? Huh?!” he shouts.
I’m too stunned to speak. I thought we had moved on from his delusion that I was an enemy spy. That was the only reason he was willing to bring me back to my house in the first place.
“Answer me!”
“I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about! Now leave me alone!” I scream back, unable to filter my words before the come spilling out of me.
If ever there was a time for me to sprint away from here, it would be now. I’m feeling immense regret, both for going on the date to begin with and not running away when I had the chance. There’s no telling what I’ve gotten myself into just from being indecisive and weak.
“It’s time for you to stop fucking pretending now, Vera. It wasn’t cute before, and it definitely isn’t cute now,” he growls, moving into the car and sitting in the driver’s seat.
I’m mortified that he would crawl into Eric’s car without a second thought, but his derangement seems to be coming from a place within him that I hadn’t seen before.
I saw him angry when we were driving out to the abandoned barn, and I thought I’d seen the extent of his short fuse. Something is different this time, and I hate to think of what could have been worse than being in the middle of a shooting.
“Ruslan, leave! This is my date’s car, and he’s going to be back any minute,” I say, frantically scanning the front windows for any sign of Eric.
