ONE
He’s going to killme!
Breanna Loveland gripped the shoulder strap of her seatbelt, her knuckles turning white the harder she hung on. Through the windshield, she focused on the rain-slicked road ahead. The pelts of rain hit the glass faster than the blades could remove it, making it almost impossible to see. The blinding storm’s moisture nearly covered the streetlights and darkness surrounded the car. She silently prayed the airbag in this vehicle worked just in case her boyfriend’s reckless driving ended them in some ditch—or worse, head-on with another car.
“Tom, will you please slow down?” Fear strained her voice, and she swallowed hard.
The back-end of the car swayed to the side. She sucked in a quick breath. Tom’s foolishness would certainly cause an accident. Unless he was drunk. If he had been drinking and not told her, she’d definitely yell at him. Then again, she would hold it in. His temper frightened her.
Tom barked an eerie laugh, and the sickening sound scraped her spine. He over-corrected and the vehicle slid to the right. She squeezed her eyes shut and inwardly prayed for an end to this torture.
The car’s blaring radio and Tom’s hysterical laughter overrode any other sounds. Freeing herself from this nightmare seemed hopeless. The car hit a large bump and she released a fearful sob as the vehicle finally came to a stop. Thankfully, she didn’t hear the repelling crunch of metal.
“You can open your eyes now, Bre.” The mockery in Tom’s voice turned her stomach. “We’ve made it alive and in one piece.”
She peeled her eyes open. Parked safely in front of a bar, she let herself release a gush of air from her lungs, noisily blowing it between her tight lips. “Just barely.”
He laughed again, slapping her shoulder playfully. “Come on, you big baby. Loosen up. You said you wanted to meet my friends, so stop whining.”
Breathing deep and slow, she calmed her hammering pulse, and with shaky fingers, unbuckled her seatbelt. “I would enjoy meeting them while I’m alive...not in the afterlife.”
His piercing laughter rang out as he climbed out of the car and made his way into the bar. Before joining him, she pulled down the lighted mirror on the visor with a shaky hand and checked her appearance. Normally she didn’t care what she looked like, but tonight was different. She wanted to make an impression on his friends.
A face void of color stared back through the reflection of the mirror. Of course, she’d expected to look terrified, but her ashen face made her brown-rimmed glasses appear as if they were attached to a ghost. She pinched her cheeks to add a little color, and then she did her daily ritual of pushing her glasses back onto her nose. Running her fingers through her long hair, she settled the length back on her head and neck then climbed out of the car.
On wobbly legs, she entered the bar. Tom had already met up with his friends and held a beer in his hand—not that he needed anymore to drink tonight.
“Bre.” Tom waved his hand above his head, getting her attention. “We’re over here.”
The dimly lit room held only a dozen people, most of whom sat around the long bar against the wall. Along the front, six booths lined together. In an opened room not ten feet away, twin empty pool tables awaited players. Hopefully, Tom and his friends would meander that way soon and leave her to relax.
Taking a fortifying breath, she straightened and walked toward the table. With each step, her heart hammered. She had to enjoy herself, and prove to Tom’s friends she was a fun person. Surrounding the table, seven men sat holding a mug of beer. By the looks of their dopey, glassy-eyed expressions, they’d started partying earlier.
Tom draped his arm over her shoulders. “Bre, you remember Kevin.” He pointed to the guy on the right. “And this is Peter, Larry...”
She strained to hear the introductions as he circled the table, but the blare of hard rock-and-roll music from the overhead speakers made it impossible. She smiled and nodded, acknowledging them anyway.
“Nice to meet you,” she shouted over the noise.
The men held up their drinks in salute, then gulped them down simultaneously, foam dribbling out the corners of their mouth. She cringed from the disgusting display. For a moment, she wondered why exactly she wanted them to like her. Was it just because they were Tom’s friends? Deep down, she hoped they would become scarce after she and Tom became engaged. He hadn’t popped the question yet, but she felt it would be soon.
It surprised her how different Tom looked compared to his friends. Although Tom dressed casually in tee-shirts and jeans, they were always cleaned and never ragged. However, his friends tonight looked like they had all been living on skid row. They had dirty hair and rough beards, whereas Tom was clean and shaved daily. She’d never really thought Tom was an extremely handsome man, but tonight is red hair and brown eyes made her want to stare at him and ignore his friends. Then again, he was one-hundred percent better on her eyes than his friends.
She pulled off her gray jacket and draped it across the back of the chair before sitting. When she turned to the group, she glimpsed their wide-eyed expressions while they stared at her unflattering figure. It didn’t bother her. She was used to having people gawk.
In all of her twenty-six years, not once had she been called a sexy or pretty woman. She knew her appearance was as plain as the sixteenth-century Puritan, but this was who she’d always been. Tom loved her this way, and that was all she cared about.
Swiping a lock of hair behind an ear, she shifted in her seat as a man from across the table studied her through half-closed lids. Her heart sank to her knees. She knew his thoughts. He didn’t approve.
Absently, she tugged on her outdated brown sweater, pulling it lower over her baggy jeans. Tom had never wanted her to wear clothes that made her stand out, and she agreed.
“Hey, Bre?”
Tom’s voice made her jump and she smiled at him. “Yes?”
“What would you like to drink?”
“I’d like rootbeer.”
