Can't Slow Down - Lizzie Hart Stevens Page 0,26
around, grabs Patrick by the throat, and slams him into the wall. The sound of glass breaking fills the room as a few picture frames and knickknacks come crashing down. Sarah and I both shout Coen’s name in sync, but he ignores us. His face is so close to Patrick’s that their noses are almost touching. Patrick sneers, still pinned to the wall by Coen’s tightening grip on his throat. He could easily snap his neck right now if he wanted to.
“Coen! Let him go this instant!” Sarah shrieks.
He doesn’t flinch. I can see his shoulders rise and fall from his heavy breathing across the room. I’m surprised he hasn’t put his fist through Patrick’s face yet.
“Lexi, go start the car.” Coen snaps his head around to look at me. His green eyes are now cold and hard and the prominent vein in his arm is pulsing. He’s angry and I’m scared, but I don’t want to leave him in here alone. I feel like I’m frozen in time and everything around me is moving in slow motion, but there’s nothing I can do to fix this. Any of it. “NOW,” he demands, nostrils flaring.
“Don’t do anything stu—”
“Damn it, Lex, PLEASE. GO. NOW.” He tosses me the keys to his Hellcat.
As the door is closing behind me, I hear what I’m pretty sure are Coen’s knuckles cracking against Patrick’s face and more shouting from all three of them. I run out to that beautiful blue beast, hop into the passenger seat, and start the car. The engine roars to life and vibrates through my entire body. I roll the windows down and start to sift through my bag to find my phone when the car door is jerked open. Coen starts to slide in beside me. He’s holding his left hand close to his chest and his mouth is bloody.
“You drive,” he pants.
“Coen, I—”
Sarah runs out onto the porch and yells at the top of her lungs.
“You aren’t welcome here anymore. I want nothing to do with you. I never wanted anything to do with you. It’s your fault my sister is dead! They couldn’t wait until morning to see their precious, pathetic little boy. If they had just gone home and picked you up the next morning like they had originally planned, they would still be here and my life wouldn’t have been ruined having to raise you. I did it for her, Coen. I never gave a shit about you.”
“Don’t worry,” Coen shouts back. “I never gave a shit about you either. Don’t come crying to me when your son shows you his true colors.”
“Get off of my property. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Lex, I can’t drive right now,” he says, shrugging the shoulder above his injured hand. “I’ve seen you drive, you can handle her, now just go.” He bumps me with his hip to nudge me into the driver’s seat.
I quickly adjust the seat, fasten my seatbelt, and reverse out onto the main highway. The tires squeal and I throw it into drive and floor it the hell out of there. I’m not waiting around or taking the chance of Patrick or Sarah calling the cops. My hands are shaking and my heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest as I dodge traffic and run red lights.
“Fuck!” Coen throws his head back against the seat as I try to keep my eyes on the road.
“Holy shit!” I swerve, dodging a large pickup truck that pulled out in front us. “Where are we going, Coen? I need a destination here.” I make a sharp right turn followed by a quick left.
“Go to Derek’s. I’ll text him to have the garage door open and ready so you can pull the Hellcat in.”
Thank God we’re only about five blocks away. My palms are sweating and my knees are shaking.
“You got her, sweet cheeks. We’re almost there.” Coen’s phone chimes. “Derek’s ready for us.” Perfect timing, too, as I squelch the tires around the last corner.
Derek is standing outside waiting as I ease the Hellcat into his garage and he immediately hits the closer button.
I throw the car in park and slump into the seat. Coen reaches over and pats my leg with his good hand.
“That’s my girl.”
We both turn to look at each other, huffing and puffing as we try to catch our breath. Coen lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again,