I shrugged. “It’s a control thing, really. I guess I don’t like him dictating the place.” My lie came out perfectly. It wasn’t really the place, or the time that bothered me. It was the thought of seeing him. I wanted to put Vic in a box and pretend he didn’t exist. I didn’t want to look up into his face and see our history there. Even scarier, any regret on his face.
“It’s the last time you’ll have to see him.” Carter ran his hand up the entire length of my leg, and I shifted, giving him better access.
“Right.” I was starting to lose my train of thought, his fingers sliding along the inside of my thigh.
He watched me squirm and his eyes darkened. “I don’t want you to meet him alone. Make sure there will be other people there.” There was possession in his words and it was unbelievably hot, his face tightening, hands a little rougher on my legs. My mind flashed back to our second encounter, in the hall of my apartment, when he’d been pissed. I’d thought that look on him was hot. A possessive Carter was even hotter.
I slid deeper into the couch and pushed my foot into his crotch suggestively. “I’ll think about it.” I grinned when he crawled on top of me, his eyes narrowing.
“You do that, Ms. Madison.”
“Or what?” I challenged him.
His hands settled on the clasps of my shorts.
His fingers pulled at my thong.
His head dropped between my legs.
And our conversation officially ended.
64. Six Tons of Oh Shit
I sat next to Dante, my laptop out, fingers quick as Nicole barked things from the backseat. Good thing I took typing in high school. I needed every bit of my 50-words-per-minute ability when dealing with Nicole’s demands.
“And tell him that if he can’t tell forsythia from winter jasmine that it’s his damn fault, and I’m not paying for it.” She paused and I heard the crack of a Diet Pepsi opening. “Did you run that background check on our new neighbors yet?”
“Yes. Just a second, I’ll pull it up.” I opened the file and turned in my seat, glancing back at her. Later, they would say that that small movement, my shift to the center of the car, saved my neck. All I knew was when the airbag exploded, it knocked me sideways in between the two front seats. And when we were hit a second time, six tons of moving truck slamming into the back of the SUV, our eyes met for one horrific split second.
A split second where Nicole wasn’t bitchy or demanding or unfaithful.
A split second where she was confused. Then, smoke was everywhere, and I didn’t see her at all.
I couldn’t breathe. It was hot and dusty, clouds of smoke coming from the airbags, and I clawed at the door, trying to get it open. My hand finally found the handle and I pushed it open, gulping at the fresh air, the cab clearing. I heard Dante cough my name and turned to look at him, his hand pushing at the airbag, his own door cracking. “I’m fine,” I called, fumbling for my belt, the hot metal of the other truck close, glass everywhere, and I wanted to look in the backseat, wanted to know … but I couldn’t, I didn’t.
65. I Should Have Seen This Coming
Nicole was not a person I’d ever felt affection for, yet there was this lump in my throat at the thought of her hurt. A bigger swell of emotion for Clarke. I didn’t know why he loved that rotten woman, but he did. If she was hurt or dying … I didn’t know how he would react. I stared at the carnage that was our vehicle and started to shake. The front hood was smashed, nothing incredibly major but enough to have stopped the Escalade in the middle of the street. It was the giant truck stuck into the back of the vehicle that was the problem. A collision that had eaten Nicole’s seat in the crunch.
“She doesn’t wear a seat belt.” I looked up into the EMT’s face. “Nicole doesn’t wear a seatbelt.” Clarke used to get on to her about it, all the time, an old argument played on repeat between them.
“Do you know what day it is?” The woman held my chin and shone a light in my eyes.
“Wednesday.” I pulled away from her. “I’m fine. Do you know anything about Nicole?”