Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(6)
I swallow the lump in my throat and say my goodbyes, then close the little gate behind me.
When I walk past the big house, I catch Ben watching me from the upstairs window, but he disappears out of site, the lace curtain Helen hung years ago, falling back into place.
On my walk home, with the sun peeking out from behind a dark, cloudy sky, I make plans to disappear myself, but only for a night. My last night as a free woman.
CHAPTER FOUR
I wait till well after dark to leave. The lights are on in my house, set to a timer, and the truck is parked out front, like always. I’ve got a feeling Shayne will be watching the road, but he won’t be looking for the Lexus, a car Ben gifted to Helen on their fiftieth anniversary. And as long as I’m back early tomorrow morning, everything should be alright.
Once I hit the freeway heading south, my grip loosens just a little on the steering wheel. My fingers hurt from clenching it so tight. Part of it is nerves. Another part is the skimpy red dress and black heels I wear. Both I found at the thrift store. Both are too small. The only comfort is the worn Carhartt ranch jacket covering me up.
A little while later the freeway curves sharply to the left, revealing the faint gleam of the Pacific Ocean on my right. It rocks and shimmies under the full moon, but goes black when the clouds pass over.
A green sign flashes for Santa Barbara, which is just another half hour away. I’d considered going there, but it felt too close. If he’s not watching the road, it’d be just my luck to run into Shayne, out trolling for fresh meat. I’m not taking any chances.
I glance over to the piece of paper on the passenger seat, where I’d written down directions to a popular nightclub in Westlake Village, about another hour and a half south.
Please. Please let me meet—
A sudden lurch flings me forward, followed by a loud chime and a red light that begins blinking on the dash. Check engine.
No. No. No!
The car begins to slow and I press the gas pedal, but the car just keeps slowing, and slowing, until it stalls out as I make it onto the shoulder. I try starting it again, but there’s nothing. Not a sound. Nothing but a frantic heartbeat echoing loudly in my ears.
I slump back in the seat, a slow, sick panic building inside me, thinking of all the ways this is going to spiral into disaster.
It’s past eight on a Friday night. All the repair shops are going to be closed. Never mind that I don’t have the money to pay for any repairs. All I have is enough for gas and a cover charge. If I had a cell phone I could call Ben, as much as that would sting. But I don’t. It’s a luxury I never needed, until now. And I’m still at least twenty or so miles from civilization, surrounded by nothing but dark hills and water. Not even a light in sight, except for the occasional freeway lamp.
I think about getting out and opening the hood, but to do what? I might as well open up a computer and stare at circuit boards for all the help that will do.
The headlights of an approaching car flash in the side mirror, then fly by me and continue on. It’s dark again.
I close my eyes and the realization of what this means has a tear sliding down my cheek.
One night.
One night for myself is all I wanted.
One night with someone who isn’t determined to completely destroy me.
But that’s gone now.
A scream tears from my mouth and ricochets inside the car. I pound on the steering wheel as hard as I can, over and over, cursing and crying, until I’m tapped out and able to do nothing but sit there in a daze with my sore hands lying limp in my lap.
I let my head fall back and close my eyes, knowing my chance is gone, but I still need to figure out a way home now.
Okay. Think, Ava.
The image of a rest stop appears in my head. I passed it three or four miles back, I think. I don’t know. Maybe five or six. But there’s probably a phone, and if I can make it there, that’s a start.
I take a deep breath, grab my purse and get out of the car. It’s so cold, and the night so dark. I hug my jacket tight, but it does nothing for my bare legs or sore feet. When I inhale the crisp air, the smell of ocean is strong, but the smell of rain even stronger. I’ve only just walked a few steps, when I feel a drop, then another, and another. And then it starts to rain. It drenches my hair and my face, mingling with the tears that begin to slide down my cheeks, but I force my feet to move, one in front of the other.
I’ve been walking maybe ten minutes when headlights approach, going fast. Really fast. I step as far over onto the shoulder as I can, hunched against the cold and the rain while the lights close in. The car whizzes by me, easily going over a hundred. I feel the spray of water and grime soak my legs, but I’m too numb to care. I start walking again when I hear the screeching of brakes. I turn and see the car fishtailing in the rain. It stops and reverse lights come on, then it’s backing up, fast. I look quickly to the left for any oncoming cars, but the freeway is empty. The car passes me and maneuvers onto the shoulder, stopping right in front of me.
The headlights are so bright I have to lift my arm to shield my eyes. The car just sits there, idling, black and sleek, the tinted windows masking whoever’s inside. It’s one of those new muscle cars, but it looks custom, and mean, and sounds even meaner. Heavy metal music blasts from inside and seeps into the night, mixing with the sound of the rain as it pounds on the car.