He stepped on the brake so hard, she pitched forward. Her right hand scrabbled for the door handle, but ironlike fingers clamped around her left arm, and she swung around to glare into Max’s outraged blue eyes. “You’re not getting out of this fucking car in the middle of fucking nowhere.”
“I don’t care. You’re getting drunk, and you’ll be drunker by the time I’m ready to go home. I shouldn’t have come. So let me out, and I’ll call someone to come get me.”
Her cell phone chimed with an incoming message, most likely Janelle’s reply. The last thing she wanted was for him to see it.
“Who?” he demanded. “Whose dick you plan to suck tonight?”
She jerked the door handle, popping the door open. “Damn sure not yours.”
“Oh yeah? Fuck you, then. Get out.” He shoved her hard in her shoulder. She nearly tumbled out onto the ground, but that would’ve been fine. Anything, anywhere, by any means, as long as she was out of that car she never should’ve gotten into. Catching herself, she vaulted to her feet and had enough time to flip him off before he snatched the passenger door closed.
He made sure to return the gesture, then straightened and sped off, spraying her legs with dust and gravel. A moment later, his taillights disappeared around a curve up the road.
Good. Fucking. Riddance.
Except…shit! Her purse was still somewhere on his floorboard. Luckily, she still had her phone clutched in her hand. Raising it to her face, however, showed that the screen was cracked. She must’ve slammed it onto the ground trying to catch herself in the fall. But it wasn’t so bad she couldn’t read the text. Janelle wanted to know where she was. Unfortunately, the touchscreen was cracked badly enough that she couldn’t reply or maneuver to a point where she could call.
“Perfect,” she muttered, looking around to take stock of her situation for the first time. She was surrounded by banks of tall trees on either side, the road stretching between them to her left and her right. She couldn’t reach anyone, and Janelle was probably going to think she was dead in a ditch somewhere. Her best bet was to head back to the main road, she supposed, and walk the six long, lonely miles back to town. In the dark.
Jesus.
Maybe she’d slightly overreacted? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d let her temper get her into a messed-up situation. Most likely she and Max would’ve made it alive to the party, then she could have slipped away and called someone to pick her up.
Right. Then he could’ve discovered what she was doing, thrown a tantrum, caused a scene, accosted whoever her rescuer turned out to be, gotten several people into a fight, and she would have that weighing on her conscience. Any more weight on that particular part of her psyche, and she might buckle under the burden of it.
Sighing, she shoved her damaged phone in her pocket and trudged up the road, wishing now that she’d put her gym membership to use. Six miles. Or so. Maybe seven. Maybe someone would have mercy on her and give her a lift. Maybe that person wouldn’t be a machete-wielding maniac. But with the way her luck ran lately, nothing would surprise her.
Was this her punishment? She supposed she should shut up and take it. Stop being so damned stupid. Stop looking for salvation in every guy that came along who somehow, even fleetingly, reminded her of…
Stop. You want to stop? Then just fucking stop. Don’t even think his name. Especially not now.
Easier said than done when she saw him on a daily basis, and every new day was an opportunity for new memories.
Fierce, furious tears stung her eyes, but she stared resolutely ahead at the dirt road, refusing to give in to them. It was terribly dark, no moon above to light her way. A security light here and there as she walked was her only illumination, along with the light from her fractured phone display. Security lights meant houses, but none that looked as if they’d be welcoming of a teary-eyed imbecile pounding on their doors in the dead of night.
She’d made her bed. She kept running around with creeps, so she’d suffer the consequences of running around with creeps. She was in love with someone she could never, ever have, someone who belonged to another, so she’d take every hurt, every sharp pebble under her shoe, every shard in her heart, and drive them all deeper if they could possibly eclipse the pain of that.
It wasn’t fair of her, and it wasn’t his fault, of course, but sometimes she could hate him for turning her into such a freaking idiot.