Page 41 of Submit
Sliding on the snow outside, I practically drift out of the driveway, the ass end of the car trying to go before the front, and I fight the steering wheel after I allow her to go into the slide. I finally even her out when the rear tires hit the plowed street and get traction.
The neighborhood disappears quickly, and I leave it behind, along with the police, and Millie. I don’t know where I’m driving to, I just need to go far far away. I need to run away from the hurt that’s twisting in me causing anger and rage that I can’t swallow down.
My fists hit the steering wheel as I punch it over and over again while going down the hill, threatening to put me back into a slide. I don’t care, as long as I keep going. I have to keep going. If I stop I’m going to go back and say or do something I’m going to regret.
“Fuck her!” I scream into the car. “Fuck her and him!”
I’m breaking inside, scorned and damaged by the only woman I’ve obsessed over, and maybe, just maybe have fallen in love with. And it was all based on a fucking lie.
“I’m going to come for you Tyler. Just you wait and see.” I seethe, racing through the suburban streets, heading towards the city. “You’re fucking dead.”
I slam my foot on the clutch and shift the gears up, going faster and faster through the city streets. Cars honk at me, taxis threaten to push me out of my lane, but I don’t care. I’m pushing the car to its limits, just like my patience and love has been.
I’m the smartest person I know in business, building massive wealth and power in not so many years. I’m young for all I’ve done and accumulated, but in matters of the heart, I’m a fucking idiot.
“Stupid, stupid man.” I yell, squeezing the shifter in my right hand and the wheel in my left.
I can feel the leather knob on the gear shifter squishing in my grip, the hard center ready to crack and burst open with how hard I grip it. My knuckles are white, and the ink on my hands looks even darker against the paled flesh.
“Fuck!” I scream, and then to my surprise, a drop of moisture rolls down my cheek.
I don’t cry. I haven’t cried since I was a small child. I scream, yell, fight, everything else except cry. The only one who has ever made me shed tears was my mother, and it wasn’t because of her, it was for her.
“Women. Fucking women.” I say, my voice turning from something thunderous to weak as the pain of betrayal overtakes the anger ripping through me.
I’m spiraling, like my emotions are the core of a tornado, twisting up and spinning down, making a vortex of misery. The rage and the sadness are fighting each other, and the tears flow down my face as I drive faster, redlining the RPMs on the car before I shift, punching the speedometer to the end of its gauge, with the little indicator needle shaking at the end of its space.
The scenery flying by is just a blur of colors streaked over the blackness of the night. Lights are trails, and objects are blobs that smear in my vision like wiping your hand across a fresh painting. I can’t see anything clearly through the droplets that fill my eyes then fall in little streams that keep getting bigger.
My shirt is wet, and sticking to me, pissing me off, but I can’t stop the flow of tears, it’s getting worse. I’m breaking inside. I’m shattering over a woman I barely know. In fact I don’t know her at all. Everything could have been lies. The stories of her childhood, the things her and her sister did when they were kids. Her family, and the things she’s done, they could all be stories made up to make me fall for her. And I did. I fell for it all.
“Motherfucker!” I sob, hastily wiping at my face, trying to clear my sight so I can see where I’m going, but it just gets worse.
My phone screeches in my pocket and I ignore it. I know it’s her, ready to spew more lies at me. I don’t want to talk to her, to hear her lame ass excuses. I don’t want to hear fake words of how much she likes me or wants me. I sure as shit can’t handle it right now if she calls me Sir or Daddy. Those words are reserved for a woman who respects me.
I’m barely aware as I speed through the tunnels out of the city, or cross the bridge into New Jersey. I just keep going, faster than the car should be going, weaving in and out of traffic as if I were on the bike.
City streets and highways turn into country roads when I leave Jersey and pass the blue “Welcome To Pennsylvania” sign and take the first exit. I have no idea where I’m going still, I’m just letting the car take me where she wants to.
The brightness of the street lamps dies and the utter blackness of the night envelopes the car as I race in the dark. With no working headlights, there’s nothing illuminating the road in front of me, and I can’t see anything or even which way the road turns. I just follow my instincts without slowing down.
My phone rings again, and I growl as I reach in my pocket, grabbing it and pulling it out. The screen is a bright blur of the home screen image of her at the restaurant, her lips wrapped around the forkful of cake. It makes me sick to look at it, and I chuck the phone onto the passenger seat, ignoring the call once again.
“No way. Fuck off, you bitch.” I say to the device as it slides across the leather seat then falls to the footwell when I take a turn way too sharp to avoid a guardrail on the right.
Squeezing the steering wheel hard enough to break it I take another set of curves, pushing the Porsche to its absolute limits, the back tires kick out and I careen around a corner way too fast in a sideways slide. The phone is ringing again, lighting up the floor, tearing me apart with its shrill tones.
“Goddamnit!” I yell, banging on the wheel, taking my eyes off the dark road, bending down to grab the fucking thing to make it stop.
I don’t see the deer in the road until it’s too late. With no time to brake or steer out of the imminent crash, I lift my arms and cover my face, screaming as the front of the car makes impact.
Chapter
Twenty-One
I don’t know what’s louder, my screams, the crunching of metal, or the sound of the deer hitting the already broken windshield as I smash into it. It’s a horrific blend of sounds that stabs through me like a hot knife.
The car skids as I slam on the brakes and yank the wheel to the left to keep from hitting the side of the road as blood splatters on the spider web shattered windshield, making the already impossible view even worse.
