Black Ties and White Lies(48)

“Watch your tone,” I warn, hating that I was wrong in this scenario.

“Watch your tone,” she mocks. “God, you’re so stubborn and frustrating. Can you just admit that you were wrong and pull off?”

“I’m frustrating?” I laugh maniacally, leaning forward in the seat to try and see better through the gusts of wind blowing snow all over the road. “You’ve frustrated me from the moment I met you. So before you call me stubborn, look at yourself, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” she says in disgust. “Don’t talk down to me, asshole.”

I take a deep breath, looking for any indication of the exit she apparently thinks is close. “I’m not talking down to you.”

A sarcastic laugh fills the tense space between us. “Just because you’re mad that you’re wrong and I’m right doesn’t mean you have an excuse to be a dick.”

My teeth grind together as I keep my mouth shut. There are so many things I’d like to bring up to her, like the fact that she’s been the one who's been hard-headed from the moment I kissed her. She may be frustrated with me for the moment, but I’ve been frustrated for over a month now. I say none of this, knowing that we aren’t seeing eye to eye right now to begin with.

“You’re sure the interstate is closed up ahead?”

“Would you like to check yourself?” she seethes. I brave a look at her out of the corner of my eye. She shakes her phone at me, some sort of app pulled up that appears to have traffic updates on it.

“Give it to me,” I instruct, pulling one hand off the wheel to hold it in front of her.

“No freaking way!” she yells. “Put both hands on the wheel now. Are you crazy?”

My fingers wiggle as an aggravated sigh falls from my mouth. “Give me the fucking phone so I can check where I need to get off.”

“I told you, it’s the next exit.”

“Do you see an exit anywhere?” I point out, growing more frustrated with her by the second.

“Put both hands on the wheel and I’ll look again,” she demands.

I growl, hurriedly reaching out to try to pluck the phone from her hands. It doesn’t work. She screams, the sound causing me to jump. She immediately reaches across the space between us, grabbing the steering wheel.

“Hands off,” I scold, trying to push her hands away so I can do my job and get her somewhere safely.

“Oh, so now you’re worried about safety?”

I try to pull her hand off the wheel, but her little fingers are wrapped around it so tightly it’s proving harder than I’d expected.

In my efforts to try and get her grip from the steering wheel, I miss the sign for the exit. Everything happens in one big blur. I’m trying to turn the wheel toward the exit ramp that’s coming into light before us. Unfortunately, Margo sees it at the same time. She jerks at the wheel, trying to point it out. The mixture of our movements together causes the wheel to go too far right. In slow motion, the tires skid down the unused exit ramp, wet snow coating the surface. One moment we’re perfectly lined up on the road, the next the sudden movements of the wheel have us skidding off the side of the road and down a small embankment.

My arm reaches out to Margo immediately, crossing her chest to try and shield her from any impact. Her scream ricochets off the SUV walls, sending my heart into disarray in pure panic that she’s hurt.

Somehow we get lucky, and the car comes to an almost immediate stop, the tires getting stuck in the thick mud and snow mixture on the side of the road.

The impact is so soft that not even the airbags deploy.

I look to her immediately, scanning her face and body for any indications that she’d been hurt. “Are you okay?” I rush, reaching out to rub my fingers down her cheek to make sure she’s okay.

“Don’t touch me,” she angrily answers, pushing my hand off her. “I’m fine.”

I’d be upset with the tone she uses with me if I wasn’t so fucking relieved that I hadn’t been responsible for her getting hurt.

“Well, that’s one way to make sure we stop,” I say, knowing I sound like the dick she’s accusing me of being.

“Really? That’s what you’re saying right now?”

“Was there something else I’m supposed to be saying?” I pull out my phone to attempt to call to help. Ezra is waiting at the private airport for us. He might be able to do something. Or l can at least try to call a tow truck.

“Yeah, how about I’m sorry I almost killed you, Margo?”

I shoot her a look. “You’re the one who was grabbing the wheel! Do you have a death wish?”

She lets out an aggravated sigh. “The only reason I grabbed the wheel is because you took a hand off it! I was just trying to keep us safe.”

I roll my eyes at her. “I don’t think it’s ever a safe choice for the passenger to grab the steering wheel. Did you take driver’s education classes?”

“You’re being an asshole right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I be thankful for your assistance in getting us stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere?” I wave my phone between us. “With no fucking service.”

Her lips form a little O as my words register with her. She looks down at her phone to confirm my statement for herself.