Evie rolls her eyes. I don’t hate it. I’ve got a thing for her eye rolls ...I’ve got a thing for her.
I’m grinning, a pep in my step as we finally clear the cars and my Mustang comes into view. That’s when everything hits me all at once. Like a goddamn brick.
Oh fuck.
“Chase,” she yells, gripping my bicep, but I’m frozen, my chest already heaving. The sound of the alarm sounds over and over like the pounding in my chest.
I can’t even process what I’m seeing.Oh my god.This is not happening.
“What the fuck,” I breathe out, walking toward my previously pristine Mustang, Evie still holding on to me. “No, no, no, no ...”
My shoes crunch over the glass that’s everywhere. The windows are destroyed, cracked and completely blown out. So much so that the front windshield is shattered to the point you can’t see through it.
Evie’s hands shoot to her face as she stands in place, shaking her head.
I walk to the hood, running my hand over the huge craters dented all over it. It’s like someone took a fucking bat to my car.
“What the fuck,” I bellow as my hands run through my hair.
There are a million thoughts racing through my mind. The most prominent beingGoddammit.
Evie walks past me to the open passenger-side door, peeking her head in before locking eyes with me. “Don’t even look inside.”
I frustratedly punch the air, groaning loudly before barking, “Fuck.” Then I look at the Volvo and yell, “Shut up already.”
Evie winces sympathetically at me, making me drop my eyes to the ground.
My blood is boiling, and I’m so pissed. But I can’t fucking lose my shit in the middle of a parking lot. It’s unhelpful in the journey of adulting. So I wipe my hand down my face and try to collect myself, taking a few deep breaths.
But then I hear her yell.
“Fuck you, Volvo ... and Volvo owner. Nobody needs this soundtrack for our misery. Your car’s dumb, and the color looks like piss.”
She’s nuts, which makes me grin as I look over at her. And as I do, the damn alarm stops. Her eyes pop open wider, staring back at me as I make the same face.
“Way to handle it, fella,” I say on a heavy exhale as she winks, before I stare at my car again and add, “We should take pictures before I call the insurance company.”
Without a word, Evie follows my lead, taking photos with her phone from the opposite side of me.
“Jesus,” I sigh, looking at the headlights, which are now nonexistent, and the tires that are flat.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was personal. It feels it.
As if she’s thinking the same, her voice flitters over the wreckage. “Why would someone do this? Who hates you?”
I squat, taking a closer picture before hearing her voice again from the back of the car.
“Hey, Chase ... you should come back here.”
A deep groan rumbles my chest as I stand and walk around the car, over the glass and past the open driver’s-side door, which makes me nauseous because the leather seats are shredded.
I hate people.
“They didn’t even fucking steal anything,” I grit out, walking her way.
Evie’s chewing her middle fingernail as I close the distance, and she points to the car.
“Shit,” I rush out, reading what’s keyed across the back of the trunk amid the red paint splashed across my back window.
