“Are you going to get in?” I hear him ask, now inside the vehicle. On autopilot, I open the car door and drop into the driver’s seat, feeling out of place behind such a massive wheel.
Dad never let me touch his truck, making me walk the five miles to the grocery store whenever we needed food. He never wanted me to know how to get away.
I wonder if he’s disappointed or proud that I figured out how to do it anyway?
“The car is already started. All you have to do is step on the brake. That way, you can shift the gear into drive and then go.”
Setting my hands on the wheel, I feel the powerful vibrations of the motor in the rubber, and I shake my head. I can’t do it.
“I’ll kill somebody.”
“Because there are so many cars out, right?” he jokes, waving his hand at the empty road in front and behind us.
“Then I’ll kill us,” I interject, looking for any hole to get me out of this.
“Then, at least we’ll die together,” Roman says softly, hazel eyes peering into mine.
And what else can I ask for?
Blowing out a weighted breath, I slowly press my foot on the brake, flinching when the click of the shifting gears vibrates under my fingers.
“Just drive, angel. It’ll bring you that much closer to freedom.”
That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Using the strength in his words as guidance, I lift my foot off the brake. The car creeps forward, and I use that momentum to get back on the road.
Being behind the wheel makes me want to throw up, but there’s also an exhilaration running through me as I press on the gas.
I zip forward, one giant leap that has us jerking against our seatbelts.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say quickly, hand against my chest to rub away the burn from the nylon belt.
Softer this time, I press on the pedal, and as I glide forward, that fear that was fixed so deeply in my gut begins to fly away with the breeze.
Picking up speed, I lean my head back and laugh against the wind tearing through my hair. There’s nothing stopping me from flooring this pedal and going until I hit a wall, no one preventing me from fleeing and leaving behind all the fucked-up shit following after me.
I’m headed toward danger, but I feel fucking alive.
“You wanna slow down, angel? You’re going ninety in a seventy zone,” Roman says over the roar of the wind and tires crunching on gravel.
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
So I don’t. Instead, I speed up and zoom through the empty lane until the adrenalin leaves me drained.
I don’t know how far I went or how long I’ve gone, but somewhere along the way, one lane turned into two, and I notice other cars beginning to crowd the highway.
“Pull over, angel.”
I come to a stop on the side of the road, tired, sweaty, and a bit out of breath, but for the first time, I feel control running through my veins, and it fills me with a wonder unlike any other. For years, my power was stripped away from me, leaving me weak and defenseless against the weight of my world, but now? I’ve felt the rumbling of the earth below me, and I’ve seen the endless sky growing before my eyes, and I won’t let my control be ripped from me again.
“How was that?”
“Can I do it again?” I ask, swiveling around in my seat, my heart stammering when I get caught in the gleam of his beaming smile.
“Maybe when cars aren’t on the road, since you don’t seem to care much for the speed limits.”
