Page 2 of Knot So Fast
I spin away, rushing toward the door with my heart threatening to burst from my chest. My bare feet slip slightly on the marble floor—when did I lose my shoes?—but I catch myself against the wall, leaving a bloody handprint on the pristine white paint. Everything in this house is so fucking perfect, so controlled, just like him.
Just like all of them.
My hands shake as I grab whatever set of keys I can find on the counter by the door.Of course it had to be the Ferrari.His fucking car of all choices.The universe has a sick sense of humor, giving me the keys to the most dangerous car in their collection when I'm already a live wire ready to explode.
"Auren!" He's calling after me now, his voice cracking on my name in a way that makes my chest constrict. But all I hear is pounding—the thunderous rush of blood in my ears as adrenaline kicks in like a drug mainlined straight to my nervous system. I'm fighting not to lose it. Not to lose it to the anger that lives in my bones like a second skeleton.
Not to lose it to the madness I grew up swimming in like it was the only water I'd ever known.
Dad's alcoholic yells echoing through our shitty apartment at three in the morning.
"You're worthless, just like your mother!"
Glass breaking—always glass breaking.
Mom's cries and screams that never seemed to end, that became the soundtrack to my childhood.
Little me, six years old and cornered in the closet with my hands over my ears, wishing it would all just fucking go away.
Wishing I could disappear.
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.
