It didn’t.
So I ended up driving the entire way in the pouring rain, biting my nails and glancing at the gas gauge like every other second. When I got to work, I was sneaking behind the bar and taking a shot. Not that Adam would likely care.
I pulled off the main road and into the lot of the gas station, lucky enough to get a spot at one of the tanks in the center of the roof that covered the pumping area. The rain was thunderous when I climbed out of my old Mazda. After I set it to pumping, I dashed back into the car so I didn’t have to stand outside, but the humidity and loudness of the rain was almost intolerable.
When the tank was full, I hopped out and closed the gas cap. A quick glance around told me no one was waiting for my spot so I left my car there and dashed inside to pay. Inside, the smell of coffee captivated me, totally stealing my attention and making my mouth water. Clearly, my taste buds didn’t care where the coffee came from so long as it was fresh.
Taking a sharp turn, I yanked a paper cup out of the dispenser and poured it almost full with fresh brew. Then I dumped in about five little cups of vanilla-flavored creamer and gave it a stir. I liked a little coffee with my creamer. Once it was good and mixed I snapped on a black lid, snagged a roll of SweeTarts off a nearby rack, and got in line.
What little sun was allowed to peak through the storm clouds had started to set as I made my way underneath the section of cover back toward my car. I didn’t make it very far before a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Some things never change.”
My steps faltered and nervous energy skittered along every single nerve ending in my body. Suddenly, I felt as if I’d just run a marathon, and I had to gasp for breath. Dread was also present. But underneath it all, way down beneath all the many other emotions, was a little bit of eagerness.
I hated it.
I hated that he could make me feel all that. Almost every last feeling he erupted in me was terrible. It hurt. Like physical pain. But then there was this inkling, this tiny little shiver of memory, of what it was like when we first met.
It was like I couldn’t shake him.
My fingers tightened around the cup, the heat like a lifeline to sanity. To reality. Slowly, I pivoted around to look at Craig.
“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” I replied. He glanced at the coffee and candy in my hand and smirked.
Yeah, I would probably always love coffee and SweeTarts, but I wouldn’t always love him.
“How ya been?” he asked like there wasn’t all this awful history between us. Like I wasn’t going to wear the scars of our relationship forever. He talked almost like we were friends, like the last time I saw him he didn’t hurl ugly words and accusations at me. Like he didn’t threaten me. Like Adam didn’t beat his ass and then he was led away in handcuffs.
I was once duped by that tone of voice. By the way his broad shoulders, lean waist, and baby blues would lean casually against the side of his car. I was totally blinded by the fluttery feeling I got inside my center when he smiled and his wavy dark hair fell into his eyes.
But I knew better now.
I knew bad things could come wrapped in pretty packages.
I knew sometimes charm was just a mask for something darker.
“Better now that you aren’t around,” I replied, keeping my tone almost nonchalant. The last thing on earth I wanted was for him to see—to even suspect—that he still got to me in any way, shape, or form.
Craig was good at manipulating me.
“I’ve missed you, baby.” He gave no indication he heard my insult. But he had. And it was something I would pay for later if I fell into his sticky trap.
“Surely I’m replaceable,” I said and started to turn away. I wasn’t the only woman to ever fall for his looks and charm. He’d cheated on me likely from the very beginning. I’d just been too stupid to realize it until I was in way too deep.
I felt his fingers curl around the inside of my elbow just as a loud boom of thunder echoed overhead. The rain was still pelting the cover overhead, and when the wind blew, the sheets of rain slanted and reached for us. My flats were already soaked.
I glanced down to where he held me gently. “Let go.”
He did immediately. That was just another one of his ploys. He wanted me to think I was in control, that he would back off when I wanted.
He was a good liar.
“How long you gonna be mad at me, Roxie?” he asked, his voice dipping low. I could feel the heat off his body because he stood so close. Combined with the heat from the air, it was almost suffocating.
“I’m not mad at you, Craig. I’m not anything at all with you.” I kept my voice even, bored.
“You’re different,” he said, recoiling from my words.
I lifted my eyes to his, getting ready for the way he affected me. “I’m not the same seventeen-year-old you once knew. Stop calling me. Stop following me,” I said, knowing full well that us “running into” each other was not coincidence. “We’re done.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“This time I mean it.” I walked away without a backward glance. I kept my pace steady, my strides long. If I moved quickly, it was because of the rain, not because I was trying to put distance between us.
My insides were shaking, but I knew I handled that damn well. I was proud of myself. I should be. This time he knew I was serious. He felt the difference behind my words. I saw it in his eyes and I read it off his body. He hadn’t expected me to rebuke him this way.
Good.
I unlocked my car and reached for the handle, craving the solitude of the interior. Before I could pull the door open, a rough hand covered mine. He used his body to pin me against the wet metal, his front pressing into my back. He used all his weight, including the eighty pounds he outweighed me by, to keep me from sliding out from beneath him. I had to push back against him, further enhancing our closeness to keep the coffee from being squished against me and the window. I was already wet from the rain; I didn’t need to wear my coffee too.
His breath was hot, ruffling my hair as he growled into my ear. “You only get to walk away when I say you can walk away. We aren’t done, Roxie. Not by a long shot.”
My heart pounded violently against my ribs, and I pushed back, trying to shove him off me. It only made him pin me harder, as if he were trying to remind me who was in control. I sank my teeth into my lower lip against the pain of the door handle gouging into the side of my hip.
Over the hood of my car, I looked for someone to call out to, someone I could make eye contact with. It amazed me how everyone went along with their own business while Craig stood here and intimidated me this way. It was as if they didn’t look, then it wasn’t happening.