Determined to run away from her failed marriage, Cartier Davenport, finds herself escaping failure by secluding herself in a seaside village hidden away in the rolling hills of the English countryside.
Surrounded by her books, paints, and large over...
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c a r t i e r
He's lost his mind, clearly.
Or perhaps he was psychotic to begin with.
Noah breaks into tears as his laugh breaks into wheezing then turns into a coughing fit, "You jus'!" He attempts but is cut off by another round of hysterical laughing, "You-" But he can't get more than a few words out.
"What do I do?" I ask him turning to face the wheel and try the keys in the ignition, but the vehicle only clicks.
Noah cackles behind me and I try the ignition again, pressing the gas pedal with my foot, but it's no use. I did kill it.
"I can buy you a new one, Noah." Well, Anthony will be buying him a new truck, not me.
The truck rocks again, following the movement in the backseat as Noah climbs over the back rest and sits close beside me, "Scooch over Carti," he says but takes the spot of the drivers seat while I'm smashed against the door beside him.
He adjusts the stick, then pushes the clutch pedal and tries the ignition again.
Nothing.
"You fucking broke my truck!" He turns with humor laced across face.
"I didn't mean to! It took off so fast!"
"It's a standard! Do you not know how to drive a standard?!"
I fix my hair behind my ears and click my tongue, "No."
"How am I supposed to get it out of this damn thorn bush?" He wonders aloud looking around, while I'm still smashed against the door eyeing the thorns that have half eaten the large truck.
"How are we going to get out?" I wonder aloud.
Thick vines have encased the truck all the way to the back tires, getting out of this cabin would result in getting ripped to shreds and a lot more band-aids than I currently have in my medicine cabinet.
Noah looks around, glancing over his shoulder, and blows out a loud sigh to camouflage a giggle, "I expect a raise after this, eh?"
"You're not getting one, you're fired. Remember?" I determine and cross my arms glaring out the window at the sharp thorns pressed against the window. He chuckles beside me and lifts his arms to rest on the backrest, settling in and letting his head drop back, "Um, excuse me? What are you doing?" I wiggle my shoulders to bump into the crook of his arm so he knows I'm not okay with this.
"Gettin comfortable." He smiles and cracks one eye open.
"What?" I gasp, "You have to get us out of here!"
He lifts his head in surprise, "Do I?" His brows raise and he cracks another pleased smile, "This was your fault, remember? You stole my truck, so you are going to get us out of here."
