𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭.
~
For five years, Evelyn turned up missing. Locked at the bottom of an endless void of water in a metal safe. Trapped in a coma of her own. Though she returns, nothi...
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I don't remember when, I don't remember how, but I end up with a crowbar on my front floor board. I drive to where I last remember I parked the car and park behind the car I stole. This car's not going to look very pretty once I'm done.
"What did he ever do to deserve you keying his bloody car?" Malia asks from the trunk of the white car.
I've never looked very close at the design, but I think it's an Acura? Atura? I don't know.
"He's paying me eight-hundred grand. He's got enough money to buy a new one." I say before I start breaking the windows. They're bulletproof, of course, but if I put in enough strength, I can break through.
I grunt as I jam the crowbar into the glass. It shatters and I feel a slight relief. I beat the matte black car, over and over again, each time something breaks giving me relief. Dents litter the car, the trunk is broken into, the engine has been beat to hell and back, the windows are broken, and the lights are all shattered – front and back.
"Talk about anger issues." I hear Malia mutter as I'm slamming the metal crowbar, that was once cold, into the windshield.
Quite frankly, I probably look like a crazy ex-girlfriend destroying her ex's car to get back at him. I swear to God, if a guy walks up to me and starts talking to me about keying my ex's car and it becomes a whole "love story", I will kill myself.
Screw love stories. Screw fairy tales. Screw marriage. Screw romance. Screw it all.
None of it was ever real!
Someone runs up to me and grabs the crowbar. "Get off of me!" I grunt as I try to get them off.
"No. Let go!" A masculine voice demands.
"No!" I fight to keep my grip on the crowbar, trying to continue to let my anger out on the car.
"Grace, let go of the crowbar!" They yell. One arm is wrapped around my waist while the opposite hand is on the crowbar, trying to get it out of my hands still.
"Well, this just got a lot more interesting." Malia says as I'm turned away from the car.
They suddenly let go of the crowbar and me, but I don't get very far as I'm thrown over a shoulder. "Put me down, you freakishly strong arsehole!" I yell, slamming my fists against their back, covered in a silky, fancy shirt.
The crowbar had fallen out of my hands when I was thrown over their shoulder, the crowbar now laying on the ground, slightly rocking. They begin walking away from the car and I push myself up using his back. My gaze travels to Xander and Peyton who are walking behind, both in black suits.
"Oh, bloody hell." I groan, dropping my body back down. If they're here, then that means...
"Wanna explain to me why you were demolishing my car with a crowbar?" Yep. Killian.
