Page 168 of Knot So Fast
Wishing I was anywhere but there.
The memories slam into me like a physical blow, and I'm suddenly that little girl again—terrified and powerless and so fucking angry at the world for being cruel. For making love look like war and family feel like survival.
I'm hyperventilating by the time I reach the garage, but I'm still fastening my seatbelt when I slide into the driver's seat—which is so fucking laughable I'm actually giggling to myself even as tears already stain my flushed cheeks.Safety first, right?Even when you're about to drive straight into oblivion.
Even when you're pretty sure you want to disappear entirely.
The Ferrari roars to life beneath me, purring like a predator that's been caged too long and finally tasted freedom.
The engine vibrates through my bones, drowning out the sound of my ragged breathing. I don't register how deep my foot hits the gas or how fast I'm suddenly moving. The garage door is still opening when I shoot through it like a bullet from a gun.
I justgo.
Route to absolutely nowhere, destination:fuck everything and everyone.
The streets of Monaco blur past me in streaks of light and shadow.
The city looks different at night—more honest somehow, with all its glittering facades and hidden darkness on full display. I push the Ferrari harder, feeling the G-force slam me back into the leather seat as I take corners that should require slowing down. But slowing down means thinking, and thinkingmeans remembering the look on his face when he saw what he'd done.
My phone starts ringing—that specific ringtone I set for Lucius because I'm a masochist who likes torture.
The opening bars of some angry rock song that perfectly captures the way he makes me feel:furious and desperate and alive in the worst possible way.
It's so easy to ignore.
So satisfying to let it ring and ring and ring while I push this machine harder, faster, more maddening through the winding coastal roads. The speedometer climbs—80, 90, 100 mph—and still it's not enough.
Nothing is ever enough to quiet the chaos in my head.
This isn't a good idea.
The rational part of my brain—what's left of it—tries to break through the red haze of adrenaline.Driving with wild emotions is never a good idea.
You know better than this.
But this is the only way I know how to let it out.
To drive fast.
Hard.
So dangerously it shakes every other emotion out of your system until all that's left is speed and steel and the pure, unadulterated rush of cheating death. It's the only time my brain goes quiet, when I'm moving so fast that survival instinct takes over and drowns out everything else.
The road ahead curves sharply, following the coastline, and I take it without slowing down. The Ferrari's tires scream against the asphalt, but they hold. They always hold. These cars are built for this—for pushing boundaries, for dancing on the edge of disaster.
Just like me.
My phone rings again. And again. I ignore it every time, letting Lucius's ringtone become just another sound in the symphony of engine noise and wind and my own wild heartbeat. Let him panic…worry…let him fucking feel even a fraction of what he puts me through every single day just by existing in my orbit like a gravitational force I can't escape.
The speedometer hits 120, then 130.
The world outside becomes a blur of motion and light, beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
This is what flying must feel like—this sensation of being untethered from everything solid and real.
It's not until a new ringtone roars to life that I freeze. This one's different. This one pierces through the madness like a blade through silk, cutting straight to my core in a way that makes my chest tighten and my hands shake on the steering wheel.
Lachlan.
