He cuts me off, which is just as well. I don't know what I was going to say. “Please hurry.”
The desperation in his voice, the hurt, makes my chest ache. “Cal—”
I jam my foot against the gas, pressing down as hard as it will possibly go. The engine purrs, and the lady in front of me lays on her horn as I just narrowly avoid clipping the bumper of her car. I'm hurrying, going as fast as I can.
“I did this for her.” He sobs.
The sound sends chills down my arms.
It's not natural. I've never heard him like this, and it's got every cell in my body on red alert. I'm helpless to do anything. I've never felt so goddamn useless.
"It's okay." I promise. "We'll get you out of this. We've done it before, and we'll do it again. Relax."
He's quiet, and it's unnerving. I need to keep him talking so that he can't do anything to make the matter worse.
"Dex?"
My name sounds like a plea for help, and it fucking hurts. If I hadn't been so wrapped up in Katrina these last few months, maybe I'd have realized how bad he's gotten. Maybe I could have stopped it from getting this far again. He's killed two women, and I should have stopped him before he ever got the first.
"Yeah, Cal?"
"Please hurry."
I'm going to fucking break. I'm going to shatter, because the need in his voice is wrong. It's unlike anything I've ever heard from anyone, let alone a man like him. He's normally so composed, so controlled, not letting his emotions break through. Cal is decisive, guided by logic, not feelings.
"I'm coming as fast as I can. I need these cars to fucking MOVE!" I rake my hand through my hair, desperation tangible as I pass the exit for his place. It’s killing me not to go to him when he sounds this devastated, but he begged me, made me promise, to get her brother first. I don't know what good it will do. "I just passed your place; I'll get her brother and be there in thirty minutes, forty minutes tops."
"Thank you." He breathes, his relief audible. "I really don't want her to see this."
There's a beat of silence as I contemplate his words, bewildered.
This whole time, I've assumed she was dead. I assumed he hurt her, that he slipped up and lost control, and that he needs my help covering it up.
But his words don't make sense.
I really don't want her to see this.
Amber? If she's dead, of course, she won't see it.
What is he talking about?
Realization hits me like a wall of ice as I understand what he means.
I don't want her to see this.
He doesn't want her to see him... and what he's going to do to himself.
"Cal!"
I whip the steering wheel without even checking the lane next to me, narrowly avoiding the car that skids to a halt and gets rear-ended by another one. I don't stay to check out the damage, crossing the median and pulling out right in front of the oncoming traffic.
He doesn't answer no matter how loud I scream for him.
I weave in and out of traffic and drive on the grass. I even clip a shiny truck in my haste to pass him, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I lay it all out. I have to get to him before he does anything stupid. It was always the plan, but now I know the stupid thing he was planning isn't to kill someone else... it's to kill himself.
"Cal!" I punch my steering wheel so many times the horn sticks.
I wonder if he can hear me... I'm almost on his road.
