than me when this all started. Things got clear. There was a big-ass man stomping away at the driver’s side door.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
But then he suddenly stopped and just as quickly moved away. Silence once again. I hustled forward, draping my arms around the wheel. I moved to start up the Camaro, but only then realized that I didn’t secure it when we were on top of the hood. So my key fob was more than likely on the ground, underneath the ride.
I zipped up my pants while side-eyeing Erika. Her eyes averted my glare. Her shoulders rounded as she leaned forward, lightly sobbing and repeating the same phrase: “Shit . . . shit . . . shit.”
“Cut it out!” I wrapped my fingers around her elbow. “Who the hell is that?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m dead,” she announced. Her voice faded, disappearing into the night. And as quickly as they first appeared, the tears ceased. She gulped as if she’d somehow decided to accept whatever faith awaited her. Judgment loomed?
I was not a fan of surprises. I’d had my share in the past. The past was something I’d only wished to remain as such, even though the mistakes I constantly tried to live beyond revisited me. While the inside temperature grew, sweat collected on my forehead. My hands swiped across my face, then my palms lingered at the sides. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t help but wonder—if I’d continued to live a rigid life, I wouldn’t currently have been stuck in the damn car with a cynical girl. Sure I’d enjoyed the screw; but was it really worth the hassle, the disrespect toward the Camaro? Would it be worth it to the unlucky bastard that thought it was okay to step up to a stranger with a past? I didn’t give a damn if he was there for the chick or not. And damn, the sorry-ass punk would certainly fathom what was in store for him if he didn’t mellow out.
“We can’t just sit in here, Erika. I think my key might be on the ground.”
“No, don’t open the door!” She lunged to the steering wheel, fighting to keep the door shut.
What the hell was up with this chick? “I don’t know who the hell this guy is and what he’s about. Plus, I don’t know if he’s strapped or any of that bullshit.”
Then she begged, “Please, let’s wait a few minutes.”
I was not one for this type of drama. I contemplated going outside and facing whatever the hell was lurking. Or just putting her out and saying fuck it because she wasn’t my concern. Or a third option might’ve worked. I could’ve maneuvered outside and collected the starter. My desire turned to getting as far away from this night as possible. I didn’t care to see the area or that club ever again in life.
The ultimate decision came all at once when the passenger-side glass shattered, and speckles torpedoed inside of the Camaro. I raised my arms to shield myself from the fragments, and fortunately didn’t feel the remnants. From the corner of my eyes, I examined Erika.
“Ahhhhhh!” Erika screamed. Blotches of red formed across her skin. Rather than try to shelter herself, she’d been focused on seeking out the intruder. The minute the breaking had begun, she should have turned away and avoided ruining her face. The screams were chilling, as if she had insight into what hung in the balance. Then a bulky fist entered through the jagged edges of the window, grabbing onto her hair. The bastard tugged, pulling her with such a passion that he almost knocked the wind out of her.
Her arms flew out and wide. But Erika fought to remain in her seat, or even inside of the vehicle. I gripped for her body. This attempt was actually more damaging because she ended up dragging on the glass, since the bastard on the other end made sure to tug her downward.
“Bitch!” the owner of the filthy paw bellowed out. He was literally throwing a grown-man fit. And then the bastard kicked my ride. This time the force was so much that it rocked.
My mind scattered. Kick my damn ride? He’s
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
But then he suddenly stopped and just as quickly moved away. Silence once again. I hustled forward, draping my arms around the wheel. I moved to start up the Camaro, but only then realized that I didn’t secure it when we were on top of the hood. So my key fob was more than likely on the ground, underneath the ride.
I zipped up my pants while side-eyeing Erika. Her eyes averted my glare. Her shoulders rounded as she leaned forward, lightly sobbing and repeating the same phrase: “Shit . . . shit . . . shit.”
“Cut it out!” I wrapped my fingers around her elbow. “Who the hell is that?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m dead,” she announced. Her voice faded, disappearing into the night. And as quickly as they first appeared, the tears ceased. She gulped as if she’d somehow decided to accept whatever faith awaited her. Judgment loomed?
I was not a fan of surprises. I’d had my share in the past. The past was something I’d only wished to remain as such, even though the mistakes I constantly tried to live beyond revisited me. While the inside temperature grew, sweat collected on my forehead. My hands swiped across my face, then my palms lingered at the sides. I took a deep breath. I couldn’t help but wonder—if I’d continued to live a rigid life, I wouldn’t currently have been stuck in the damn car with a cynical girl. Sure I’d enjoyed the screw; but was it really worth the hassle, the disrespect toward the Camaro? Would it be worth it to the unlucky bastard that thought it was okay to step up to a stranger with a past? I didn’t give a damn if he was there for the chick or not. And damn, the sorry-ass punk would certainly fathom what was in store for him if he didn’t mellow out.
“We can’t just sit in here, Erika. I think my key might be on the ground.”
“No, don’t open the door!” She lunged to the steering wheel, fighting to keep the door shut.
What the hell was up with this chick? “I don’t know who the hell this guy is and what he’s about. Plus, I don’t know if he’s strapped or any of that bullshit.”
Then she begged, “Please, let’s wait a few minutes.”
I was not one for this type of drama. I contemplated going outside and facing whatever the hell was lurking. Or just putting her out and saying fuck it because she wasn’t my concern. Or a third option might’ve worked. I could’ve maneuvered outside and collected the starter. My desire turned to getting as far away from this night as possible. I didn’t care to see the area or that club ever again in life.
The ultimate decision came all at once when the passenger-side glass shattered, and speckles torpedoed inside of the Camaro. I raised my arms to shield myself from the fragments, and fortunately didn’t feel the remnants. From the corner of my eyes, I examined Erika.
“Ahhhhhh!” Erika screamed. Blotches of red formed across her skin. Rather than try to shelter herself, she’d been focused on seeking out the intruder. The minute the breaking had begun, she should have turned away and avoided ruining her face. The screams were chilling, as if she had insight into what hung in the balance. Then a bulky fist entered through the jagged edges of the window, grabbing onto her hair. The bastard tugged, pulling her with such a passion that he almost knocked the wind out of her.
Her arms flew out and wide. But Erika fought to remain in her seat, or even inside of the vehicle. I gripped for her body. This attempt was actually more damaging because she ended up dragging on the glass, since the bastard on the other end made sure to tug her downward.
“Bitch!” the owner of the filthy paw bellowed out. He was literally throwing a grown-man fit. And then the bastard kicked my ride. This time the force was so much that it rocked.
My mind scattered. Kick my damn ride? He’s
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