Page 62 of The Wrong Drive-
My chest constricts at the sight of Em, her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, and she’s in dark wash jeans, a T-shirt, and Vans. She’s everything I remember. My knuckles grow white as I cling to the leash, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than I intended.
She’s standing there next to her friend, her eyes fixated on the stage. She’s smiling, yeah, but something about it feels forced.
I don’t think she wants to be here.
She turns and says something to her friend, and her friend nods vigorously. I stand there, about fifty feet away, watching her as the band comes onto the stage.
All I have to do is walk up, touch her shoulder, and tell her I’m better.
I bite down on my lip and take a step forward, but then my phone starts to buzz in my pocket. I shake my head in frustration and pull it out.
Fucking Bradford.
Bradford: What the hell are you doing? Why are you there?
“Controlling asshole,” I mutter, and then look back up to Em. However, as my eyes land on her, my heart instantly drops.
Who the hell is that?
A guy in a black beanie is suddenly beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He leans down and says something to her. Way too closely.
The music isn’t even fucking playing. There’s nothing to yell over.
I take a deep breath and wait, hoping he’ll leave. But the longer I stand there, the longer the guy stays, and the angrier I start to get.
Here comes that people trigger.
I shut my eyes, trying to block out the fact I’m here—and suddenly my mind is back at the cabin, with Em beneath me, her face contorted with pleasure. When my eyes flutter back open, she’s still there.
And so is this guy. They have their phones out.
Are they exchanging numbers?
The smile on her face isn’t directed at me. And I’m about to fucking lose it.
Thisis my worst nightmare.
Breathe, Turner. Breathe.My head starts to spin. What am I supposed to do when the mission isn’t going to happen? What am I supposed to do when shit hits the fan, and the whole fucking reason I’m doing this isn’t even real?
She didn’t love me.
Every demon that I’ve suppressed rears its ugly head. My mind starts to spin out of control. My hands are shaking. Gunner is whining.
‘Ground yourself,’I hear Bradford’s voice in my head.
I look back at the guy, and he’s walking away from Em. He’s heading for the Porta Potties behind the stage.
And my feet are moving before I even realize where I’m headed.
“What the hell, man?” the guy croaks as my fist wraps around the collar of his shirt.
Gunner whines incessantly.
“What the fuck were you doing to my girl?”
“Who? Em?”
Em.My chest hurts.Why does he know her so intimately like that?
