Love you forever,
Victor
I want to say tears were streaming down my face and I was so in love with him I could die. Well, that’s not what was happening. I was mad. I never got to do any of those things because he didn’t think they were fun. He wouldn’t even do them for me. Now he wants me to go and do them by myself? What a load of shit!
I refold the letter and throw it on the floor. I go to my closest and fish out a lacy tank top and a pair of cute shorts. I change quickly and put on some strappy sandals. I pass Court and Annabella in the kitchen. They are both doing homework but nudging each other with their elbows. I want to stop and tell them to go out and get their own friends. I want to tell them being as close as they are isn’t healthy. But I don’t because that would make me hypocritical.
I jump into my vintage Camaro. I bought it off a friend of the family a year ago. I spy the picture of Victor I’ve taped to the dashboard and I study his face. Much like his sister, his hair and eyes are this unusual honey color. It’s actually kind of freaky the first time you see it. He’s wearing his best smile in the picture but I don’t feel its usual affects this time. Maybe without having him around, his affect over me is wearing off.
God, I hope so.
I start my car and head out of my driveway. I drive around until I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t have anywhere to go or anything to do. I find a movie theater and park in the lot. I see the movie times from the car but nothing peaks my interest. Instead, I climb in the backseat and curl up into a ball.
I guess I must have fallen asleep because the rocking of my car startles me awake. It’s dark outside and I guess the person breaking into my car can’t see me through the tinted windows. I want to scream but I don’t. I just quickly grab my purse out of the front seat and get my mace out.
Whoever it is finally gets the jimmy to work and climbs in the front seat. My head is behind the driver’s seat so I slowly lift my head, trying to see who is stealing my car. All I can see is a hoodie. Great.
Instead of spraying the mace in my car where it could hurt me as well, I reach out quickly and knock the rearview mirror to the right so whoever this is can’t see me. Then I put my mace up to their temple sideways, pretending it’s a gun. “Tell me who you are and where you’re taking my car, or I’ll blow your brains out.”
The person laughs and I can tell it’s a guy. “Go ahead. Shoot me. You’ll die too. I’m drivin’ down the highway.”
I sigh because I know that voice. I’ve only heard him speak a few times but it’s like the sound of him is imprinted on my soul or whatever. “I guess we’ll sort this out when we get to your dad’s.”
Damien turns to face me and blanches. “Fuck Glossy! Why were you in the backseat of your car?”
I roll my eyes and climb over the front seat. “Because I was. Just shut up until we get to the shop, please.”
He sputters and looks at me, then to the road and back again several times. “Do you realize how dangerous that was? You could have gotten hurt if it was someone else!”
“No, if it was someone else this car would have already been wrecked. And it would be full of pepper spray.” I cross my arms over my chest and lay my head back against the seat. Lights flash in and out of the interior while I stew in my anger. I can’t believe this jackhole was trying to steal my car. He’s lucky I like his dad or I would beat him to death.
It takes about twenty minutes until we pull up to the garage. Damien tries to talk to me a few times but I ignore him. I could have done a lot of things to get my car away from him, but this is the easiest way. Plus, I need to send a message. I can go over Damien’s head and straight to his father.
Lots of men hang around the shop in leathers as I step out of the car. Pantera plays over the speakers and I smile because I like this song. I don’t see Blade hanging around so I jump up on the hood of my car and relax. Damien stops and lifts a brow at me but I ignore him some more.
I don’t know much about motorcycle clubs but I do know what I’ve heard around town. You don’t disrespect a guy in this club unless they disrespect you first. Plus, I’m not all that scared because I know I could weasel my way out of anything. It’s how I survived the first eighteen years of my life.
Damien heads out a back door and returns ten minutes later with Blade. Blade is a tall man with wide shoulders and badass-looking long blonde hair. His eyes light up when he sees me. He stops in front of my car and smirks. “When he told me he stole a car with a chick in it, I should have known it was you.”