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Destry

Page 2

   


As she screamed and fell to the ground cupping her bloody face, Wesley chose that very moment to run out the front door. His stupid outfit now gone, he stopped dead watching me shaking out my hand while Nikki flailed around on the ground, squealing like the dirty pig she was.
That was the moment I lost all control.
Hysterical laughter bubbled up my chest and found its way out of my lips. I flipped them both the bird and jumped in my silver Audi. Starting it up in record time, I took off like a bat out of hell, speeding through our neighborhood, headed anywhere but there.
I’d been driving for what felt like hours. My eyes were sore and puffy from the crying jags I had suffered through, and my mind was spinning. The image of them together permanently burned into my mind’s eye. And to top it all off, I was starting to think I had broken my damn hand when I punched my skank of a sister in her pretty face.
Not so pretty anymore, are you, Nikki?
My knuckles were swollen, throbbing and bruised in a multitude of colors already. I cried for the betrayal. I cried for the humiliation and the devastation of my sister, being so cunning.
I even cried for the sheets they ruined.
What I didn’t do was cry about him.
I didn’t feel that sense of loss for him I would have expected. Strangely enough, I felt relieved. My left hand felt as if it weighed about twenty pounds lighter without the engagement ring I had ripped off my finger and thrown at the pretty white sign that read ‘You are now leaving Mansfield. Come back again soon’.
I wasn’t about to go back. At least, not back to him. I had no idea where I was going and I didn’t care. Not one little bit.
During my drive, my cell buzzed repeatedly on the seat beside me. My father’s name flashed across the screen. Reaching forward, I turned the radio up louder, turned my phone off and kept on driving.
This was what my life had amounted to:
Twenty-eight years old and running away from my life; a father who controlled my every move; a mother who did as she was told, and a fiancé who was giving my sister the business. I was fed the hell up with being the good little girl I was told I was supposed to be, wearing the clothes I was told to and doing the things a ‘proper lady’ was expected to.
Playing a fucking part. All my goddamn life.
To hell with that. It was time for me to cut the cord, find out what I really wanted in life and live how I wanted to. I just had no clue where to start.
Spotting an all-night diner, I pulled over and made my way inside. I sat for a long while, drinking cup after cup of the worst coffee I’d ever tasted in my entire life.
Drinking that coffee felt liberating. I mean, yeah, it was crappy diner coffee, but I chose it and I would drink it with pride. It didn’t matter about the taste or the stained and chipped mug it was in. What mattered was the choice was mine.
Staring blankly at the map I’d picked up when I walked in the doors, I tried in vain to figure out where the heck I was headed. An idea crossed my mind. Closing my eyes, I raised a pointed finger and dropped it down onto the creased paper. Peeking through one eye, I checked my new destination.
San Antonio.
I was headed for San Antonio.
Smiling to myself, I collected my map and purse, and shuffled—still bare foot—to my car. Sliding in, I started my baby up and off we went on the first and biggest life choice I’d made.
I was going on an adventure.
The smell coming in from my open window was exhilarating, dew and fresh grass, as were the sounds of my tires on the asphalt and the darkness surrounding me. All of it was liberating. I frowned at the music which suddenly filled my car; the song I had chosen for my almost nuptials was drifting from the speakers.
I took my eyes off the road for a split second while changing the radio station. I sat back up and barely had a second to spot the cow in the middle of the road. My stomach dropped out, the adrenaline kicked in and my heart beating rapidly in my chest.
SHIT!
Hitting the brakes, I swerved hard. The screech of tires and the smell of burning rubber hit me just a moment before I veered off the road. A scream tore from my throat as I missed the cow and tried to right the car after losing control, but to no avail.
Every bump in the road forced my body to jerk and bounce around like a child playing with its rag doll. The airbag popped out and hot powder assaulted me, the loud noise making my ears ring. My head smacked sideways into the door as I came to a sudden stop.
Bringing my hand up to my head, my fingers met something warm and wet. The smell of rust hit my nose; it was too dark to see, but I assumed it was my blood. I reached around the floor of the car searching for my cell. Once I found it, I mashed the power button and waited for it to power up. When the screen remained black, I yelled obscenities at the steering wheel. Unable to get it working, I threw it on the seat and flung the door open, falling to the ground on my hands and Jell-O-like knees, violently shaking. The dizzy feeling making me want to puke, I clutched at my pounding skull in an effort to calm the herd of bulls stampeding around in my brain.
. A few moments passed, and I finally caught my breath. I pulled myself up with the help of the open door. I leaned against it while I caught my bearings.
Inspecting the front of the car with the small amount of light from the one working headlight, I sighed and leaned down to examine the damage. Someone had jammed a tree into my engine block.
God damn it! This was just my luck.
It seemed I’d caused a fair bit of damage. It was definitely not drivable, based on the shattered glass, the dripping water and the tree currently parading as a hood ornament.