Page 40 of Submit
“Tell ya what. You get a hotel for the night, let us dust for prints and deal with the red tape and we’ll go over inventory tomorrow.” He offers, and for once, I’m appreciative of a police officer, instead of dodging him.
“Thanks. I’ll be at the Plaza. I’ve gotta get out of here.”
With a shake of my head, I trudge out the front door, not bothering to close it behind me. I don’t even care right now what happens. A family of raccoons could take up residence in my tub and I really wouldn’t be any madder than I am already.
I know Millie had something to do with this as I walk to the town car and see her sitting up front with the driver, and it makes me sad on top of the anger. I’ve rescued her, given her everything, and she’s done this to me. I’ve given her as much of my heart as I have. I just know it was something she’s involved in.
Find out.
The door to the black car flies open with a hearty yank on the smooth handle, making her jump in surprise in the passenger seat. Without saying anything, I angrily grab her purse from her lap, and slam the door shut again, almost catching her hand when she reaches for the bag.
“Adrian? What are you doing?” She asks frantically, popping the door open and climbing out, reaching for me and her purse, trying to take it from me.
I back away with a big step and dump it out on the ground, making everything scatter around my feet with a loud clattering, then bend over and pick up her phone from the driveway. With a swipe of my finger on the touch screen to unlock it and wipe away the snow, my eyebrows lower and my blood pressure goes through the roof when I see the notification at the top.
“You fucking bitch.”
Chapter Twenty
“I can explain.” Millie cries out in a panic, reaching for me and her phone that I’m crushing in a death grip in my fist.
“I don’t want to hear it.” I yell at her, getting the attention of the officers milling around.
I can feel the heat in my face, and the ire raging through me at the messages on her screen. The lines from Tyler about keeping me happy and distracted, and her response of I will baby, don’t you worry. It’s enough to break the little bit of trust I have inside me. My feelings were right. My gut never lies. She needed the phone to communicate with him, and I fucking bought it for her.
Asking her why won’t do me any good, and I don’t think I even want to know the answer anyways. I just want peace. It’s all I ever wanted. To do my thing, to build my life, to do it all for me. It’s why I think I didn’t want or need a girlfriend all these years, and now that I’ve opened myself up to a woman, I’ve been slapped in the face with the answer to why.
“Adrian, please.” She begs me, stepping closer to me, her hand out, still wanting her phone back.
She’s not upset at my reaction, she’s afraid. It’s not of me though, at least not as if she worries I’ll haul off and deck her, which she deserves. She knows I’m not like that. But she’s afraid of what I’ll do to Tyler, and that makes me sick.
“Fuck you.” I curse at her, my hurt and pain coming out in anger. “Go back to him. I don’t want you anymore.”
I should throw the phone down and crush it with my foot, but I don’t. I throw it at her, making her try to catch it, her hands fumbling it and dropping it on the ground. Watching her try to grab it, to save it breaks me even more. She cares more about that stupid device and the evidence on it than me.
“Adrian, listen, please.” She says, picking it up and holding it to her chest. “I can explain.”
“Go. Leave. Go back to him and your chains.” I say, turning my back to her, staring at the officers that watch me like a hawk for what I’ll do.
“I don’t want to.” She cries out, and I can hear her footsteps in the snow coming closer to me.
“If you touch me, so help me God, I can’t be held accountable for what I do. Go Millie.” I say, hanging my head down, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath in, trying to calm the rage swirling in me. “The chains weren’t real were they? It was all an act.”
“Just let me…”
“No! I don’t care why you did it. You did, and that’s all that matters. Now go!” I scream, keeping my eyes closed and taking a step forward away from her.
The night falls silent as I stand in the cold, my head dropped, my shoulders slouched, and my breathing ragged. It’s so quiet you could hear a bird’s wings flapping above, and when her little voice wafts past my ears with a simple “I’m sorry” I storm off into my garage, leaving her there to wallow in what she did. If she won’t leave, I will.
Please be drivable.
My mood worsens when I look at my Porsche, with its broken windshield, its smashed in headlights, and the red paint splashed all over its usually shiny black surface. Her body is mostly intact, and I pray to God above that she starts up. I need her to. I need to leave here, to leave the woman standing in my driveway still watching me as I pull open the driver’s door and flop myself into the seat.
It takes a few cranks of the key to get her to fire up but when she does, I close my eyes and slam my head back on the headrest of the seat in relief. Revving her, I let the sound of her engine calm me just enough that I have the sense of mind to hit the remote for the garage door before shifting her into first gear and stomping on the gas pedal.
Her rear tires spin on the cement floor before they grab ahold and launch me forward, smacking the top of her roof on the door that is still rolling up.
It’s a bad screeching sound of metal car on metal door edge, but she already needs to be fully repaired, what’s a few more dings and scratches, as long as she gets me the fuck out of here as fast as she can.
