Only, my heart had been tricked.
I pumped the volume on the stereo, hoping the blaring music would drown out my thoughts. I hit the gas.
Broken beyond repair.
I clocked sixty.
Who was going to put it back together?
I pushed seventy. A horn blared. I didn’t care. I shot past.
The two people I trusted most betrayed me. There was no one left.
Eighty.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, something urged me to slow down. I didn’t fucking care. I flew through the empty intersections of our small town. It was Christmas eve, time for family and friends. Only mine had screwed around with me, literally and figuratively. The signs were there. How the fuck had I not seen it? Maybe I chose to ignore it since it was easier to deal with than this.
Ninety.
Ariana Grande’s‘Break up with your Girlfriend’blared through the speakers, booming loud and piercing into my head, mocking the pounding of my heart and the droning in my ears. I snorted out a laugh as my foot smacked the pedal.
I was pushing a hundred and ten miles, yet I couldn’t get away fast or far enough. My foot hit the gas with such force, everything became a blur until the tires skidded against the ice and the car fishtailed. A sudden blare of a horn had my feet playing footsie with the brake and accelerator. Braking too fast and I’d flip the vehicle.Fuck.Shifting into neutral, I drifted on a bend, hitting the third and fourth gears with a ferocity that would probably void the warranty. I smirked. Who the fuck cared? I rammed the gears once more, took another curve and white-knuckled the wheel into a series of spins before it slid to a stop.
My body spasmed hard. I sucked air into my lungs like a drowning man accepting it would be his last breath. The piercing ache in my chest didn’t let up. I gripped the wheel, my knuckles pale against the darkened interior. My heart was hammering so fucking loud, I expected the residents to run outside at any second.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Eyes closed, my head crashed to the backrest as I raked a hand through my hair. Engrossed in my pain, it took a moment for me to realize where I’d brought the car to a halt. I squinted through the windshield, shaking my head as the words I’d muttered to my sister knocked my thoughts.
“Sometimes, the heart plays tricks on you, Kyra. It makes you believe one thing when all the time you want something else.”
What was mine telling me?
I cut the engine, opened the car door and climbed out, my gaze roving the area, looking for what. Only God knew. Was I surprised at my destination? I doubted it. And neither, it seemed, was the woman with the soft smile that opened the door I’d pounded on for a couple of seconds. She stepped back, allowing me to enter. Inside, I turned to face her. “Would you mind if I slept in her room?”
“No, son. Go on up.” Zena’s mother gave me another soft smile.
As I climbed the stairs, I accepted we all do things for love that contradicts our beliefs and emotions, yet we tend never to forget our first love. Could I blame my father?
