Page 14 of Lock Me Out

Did I wake up in the fuckingTwilight Zone? Who asks a question like that? “Usually, people use cars for getting around. You know, so they don’t need their boyfriend or their best friendto drive their ass from point A to point B all the time. Not that I’m complaining,” I add, because of course there are worry lines now deepening across her forehead. “I thought you could use a little freedom. The chance to go wherever you want, whenever you want.”

“Oh,” she murmurs before letting out a soft sigh. Her shoulders slump before she adds, “I see.”

Yeah, she sees. And she’s still… what is it? Disappointed? “Are you all right?”

“Oh, sure,” she replies, still studying the car like she’s never seen one before. “It’s beautiful.”

“You already said that. Are you okay? I know you’re different from a lot of other girls, but usually when somebody has a Mustang handed to them, they say more about it thanit’s beautiful.”

“I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed.” She runs her hand through her hair, and I notice the way it trembles. “I mean, it’s not every day something like this happens. Especially not to me.”

“Get used to it.” Rounding the car, I meet her at the front, draping my arms around her waist and pulling her close. Why is she so fucking stiff? What did I do wrong?

“This is the kind of thing I want you to get used to. Knowing you’re taken care of, that you have everything you want or need. You can snap your fingers, and it’s yours.”

It’s like I can’t say the right thing tonight. Her eyes widen at my choice of words, her head pulling back instead of leaning in like I would expect if she wanted to kiss me. A kiss would be nice rightnow. Some sign that she’s not heartbroken after her boyfriend just handed her a luxury car.

“Are you sure this isn’t a little too much?” She looks back at the car, and her frown makes me grind my teeth. We’re so close to each other, but in some ways, we are miles apart.

“I think I can decide for myself what is or isn’t too much. I wouldn’t have bought it for you if I couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. Not exactly.”

Don’t do this. Don’t let it win.I need to keep the anger contained. It’s not her I’m mad at, anyway. It’s myself, for not being able to do the right thing. It seems like I’m always making mistakes. Pushing too hard, wanting too much. “What do you mean, exactly?”

It’s better if I’m not touching her right now. I let her go, taking a step back, putting a little space between us.

And it’s obvious that offends her, too, when her brows draw together and her lips pull into a pout. “Don’t get angry.”

“Who said I’m angry? I just want to know what’s going on here. I’m not asking you to drop to your knees or anything like that, but I would think you would at least thank me for buying you a car.”

“But why did you do it, really?”

“I told you why. So you can get where you want to go, and you don’t have to rely on me or anybody else. Don’t you want to have a little freedom?”

“If it was just about me having freedom, you could’ve bought me a used Mazda or something,” she points out, waving a hand like she pulled the name at random. “This is a really expensive car.”

“A really expensive car I can afford. That’s my problem, not yours.”

“I just... It just makes me wonder…” Folding her arms, she bites her lip hard enough that it has to hurt.

“Keep going. What is it you wonder?”

This is all wrong. We were supposed to be happy. How fucking idiotic can I be, imagining she would want to take me for a ride, maybe show off a little? I feel like all I can do is throw darts at a board, and every shot misses the mark.

It’s like she has to force every word from her mouth one at a time. “It makes me wonder... if you think you have to... like, buy my affection or my trust.”

Why not come out and kick me in the stomach? All the breath rushes out of me the way it would have if she hit me. “Are you serious? Is that how little you think of me?”

Color floods her face until she’s as red as her hair before she snaps, “Don’t make it about that! Why are you putting words in my mouth?”

“It’s really not that hard when you basically just accused me of trying to buy your love.”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“How the hell could you have meant it?” Folding my arms to mirror her posture, I sneer, “Really, tell me.”

She tosses her head. “Not if you’re going to be childish like this. You’re not interested in listening to anything I have to say.”

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