The moment shattered when Jenna crawled into the back seat, making enough noise to wake the dead. I glanced over my shoulder at her, the world swaying as I did so.
She slid across the seat until she was sitting in the middle. She started gabbing about some cute boy at the party as Luke shut my door and jogged over to the driver’s side. He dropped down into the seat and started the car. The roar of the engine drowned out the rest of Jenna’s words. We hit the dirt road minutes later.
As we raced through the dark, I reached over and cranked the radio up. Jenna started singing along with the music but I had other things on my mind.
I looked over at Luke, catching his eye. He raised one eyebrow and watched me with interest as I slowly unbuttoned the top buttons on my dress until the edge of my bra was visible.
Jenna was too busy to notice. I was too drunk to care that I was distracting Luke.
He watched me, taking his eyes off the road for a long minute.
“God, I love you, Cat,” he said.
I smiled, my drunk mind giddy with the power I held over him.
He glanced back at the road just in enough time to turn the wheel sharply and take a curve. I laughed and Jenna was still singing at the top of her lungs. I reached over and cranked the radio up even more, the drunk in me very happy. I had a good-looking boyfriend, more money than God, and parents that didn’t care how late I stayed out or who I was with. Life couldn’t get any better.
Feeling crazy happy, I rolled down my window. I wanted to feel the air in my hair. The wind grabbed strands of my dark locks, tangling it and yanking it this way and that. Still I wanted more. I had no bounds. I never had.
I unbuckled my seat belt and climbed to my knees. With a tight grasp on the doorframe, I stuck my upper body out the window. The alcohol in my system killed any fear I had. My common sense had been drowned in the bottom of numerous bottles.
The car swerved to the left, but my body swayed with it. I heard Jenna laugh and Luke shout my name but I didn’t care. I was free. Free from parents that didn’t give a damn. Free from society telling me I was a spoiled brat. I had one man who loved me and that’s all I needed. All I would ever want.
The world flew by as we raced down the road. I hung out of the window more, letting the wind slap my hair around.
Luke tugged on my sweater, trying to get me back inside. I paid no attention to him and raised my hands above my head instead, imagining I was flying.
The Mustang swung to the left as a car passed us. I was thrown forward, my stomach hitting the side of the door. The road was a blur feet under me, dangerously close to my head. I screamed but the wind caught it and flung the sound away.
I clawed at the door, trying to get back inside, but the wind was sucking at me, working against my efforts. The only thing keeping me in the car was Luke grasping a handful of my sweater and hanging on tight.
Over the roar of the car, I heard him snap off his seat belt. He leaned further across the seat, one hand on the wheel and one on me. He shouted something then gave me a firm yank.
I fell across the seat, stars appearing in my vision. Luke’s shouting blasted my eardrums. He called me fucking crazy. Asked if I was out of my fuckin’ mind. I sat up and looked at him, surprised and shaken.
He punched the steering wheel, making me jump. Then he did it again, roaring at me, saying he wanted to wring my neck for scaring him.
I flinched with each punch of his fist, each shout of his voice. The alcohol in my bloodstream was now making me nauseous. Sick.
I could be stupid sometimes. Too wild and headstrong, my grandmother said. I could handle people saying that about me but I couldn’t handle Luke being mad at me.
We continued flying down the road at high speeds. Luke pushed the car faster and faster in his frustration. He gritted his teeth and hit the steering wheel hard.
“I fucking love you!” he yelled. “LOVE YOU! And then you pull that shit! What if you died? Huh? How am I supposed to live without you, Cat? Tell me!”
I didn’t answer, my throat too thick to respond. I had never seen Luke that way. A single tear rolled down my cheek.
“Shit!” he swore, gunning the gas. “I would fuckin’ kill myself if you died, Cat! Kill myself! Do you get that? That’s how seriously fucked up I am about you! I want to marry you, but I can’t do that if you’re fucking dead!”
My heart stopped. I heard Jenna gasp behind me. He wanted to marry me?
“I’m sorry, Luke,” I cried, anguish tearing at me. “I’m so sorry!”
He took a deep breath, calming down. When he got himself under control, he glanced at me and said in a calm voice, “Put your seat belt on, babe.”
They were the last words he said to me.
I clicked the seat belt into place and then looked up. That’s when I saw it. Headlights.
A flatbed truck had swerved into our lane, coming at us head on. We were going too fast on the little two-lane road. The roads were too slick. The rain too recent.
Luke jerked the wheel but it was too late. We started sliding sideways. The Mustang’s tires tried to grip the muddy road but failed. Suddenly, the back tires hit the embankment. It was like a powerful right hook to the car.
We started flipping, side over side. Metal screeched. The world turned upside down. It righted itself then did it again, flipping us over and over. We barrel-rolled down the road, our speed sending us flying.
I fell against the door, cracking my head. Jenna screamed and her body hit the back of my seat then the roof of the car. I felt the seat belt cut into my chest as I was slammed up and down, backwards and forwards. The belt bruised me but kept me locked in place when my body wanted to go elsewhere.
They say your life flashes before your eyes but mine didn’t. I saw everything in slow motion. Every inch Luke moved. Every way his body flung. Every piece of glass that shattered and flew at me as the car rolled. I saw it all.
Even when the car crashed into the tree.
When I woke up the Mustang was sitting innocently on all four wheels, except it was wrapped around a massive tree.
I forced my eyes open. I must have blacked out. My head hung down, my hair falling into my lap. Something dripped down my nose, landing with a soft splat on my lap. I tried to lift my head, find out what it was, but pain shot through my neck, making me cry out with agony.
I tried again, something telling me I had to move. I needed to find Luke and Jenna.
It took a few tries but I finally lifted my head, moaning at the pain. I moved my arms gingerly, afraid I’d find one broken or a bone protruding.
My chest hurt. Breathing was painful and close to impossible. I pushed the air bag out of the way and reached down, unhooking the seat belt with my slippery, cold fingers.
When I was free, I glanced over at the driver’s side, afraid of what I would find. It was folded in on itself. The roof was caved in, inches from my head.
I couldn’t see Luke or hear Jenna. There were no moans, no gasps of pain. The silence scared me just as much as not being able to see them. Reaching down, I felt for the handle of the door, desperate to get out. Frantic to find them. It seemed to take all my strength but I finally opened the door.
It creaked, protesting. The outside of the car had been bent and smashed in, looking as thin and pliable as tin foil. I pushed the door open more and fell out, unable to stop my downward momentum.
Prickly weeds and little pieces of gravel embedded into the palms of my hands as I landed on the ground. I clenched my teeth against the pain and pushed my upper body up.
Wind whistled through the trees, disturbing a bird that sat watching me. I pulled myself to my feet, scared but determined. The world spun when I stood up but I managed to stay on my feet.
I used the car as a crutch, hobbling around the side. My knee hurt, feeling like I had the mother of all bruises, but I somehow made it to the road.
And that’s when I screamed.
I dropped to the floor of the shower, shak
ing. The water had turned cold, hitting me like tiny pinpoints of ice. I was still in the shower but in my mind, I was still on that road.
Luke was lying on the center stripe, his body at a weird angle. His eyes were open, staring at the dark sky. Blood coated his head, clumps of it in his hair. I had rushed toward him, tripping over my own feet.
I stared down at my wrinkled fingers in the shower, remembering them cradling his head. I could still imagine the blood coating my hands. It had been warm and sticky. Something I could never wash from my memory.
The sobs that had wracked my body were more painful than the bruises and cuts I had received on my arms and face. I died in that moment. I held the only man I had ever loved, and died.
As blue and red lights flashed across my body, I had held Luke and cried. Jenna had been found yards from the wreck, her neck broken, killing her instantly.
Distraught, I had told the police everything. I didn’t care if they hauled me away to jail; I was dead inside anyway.
After that, the rumor mill started. Apparently, one of the first responders shared details of what happened with a loved one, who later told the gossip vultures of the town. Before I knew it, everyone thought I was to blame for Luke and Jenna’s death.
And I was.
That night my heart had gone cold, the last bit of feeling in me fading. I wanted to die. If I couldn’t, then I swore never to love again. Never to feel again. Never to care. And it had worked.
Until Cash.
My body trembled, freezing from the cold water falling on me. I stared up at the showerhead, blinking against the water in my face.
The answer to my problem suddenly became crystal clear. I had to leave town. Get away from the memories. Get away from Cash.
I pushed myself to my feet, using the tile wall of the shower as leverage. My body shook from the cold and goose bumps broke out over my skin. I hurried and turned off the water. The quiet of the bathroom was disturbing. I needed the sounds of a party, the noises of a bar. I needed laughter and alcohol. Anything but solitude and my thoughts.
I grabbed a plush towel and rubbed myself dry, avoiding the fogged mirror over the sink. After wrapping the towel around me, I swung the bathroom door open, letting my long hair drip down my back.
I could hear the TV downstairs. Something loud was playing with the sounds of gunfire. I rushed into my room and grabbed the first thing I could find to wear – a pair of cut-off sweats with the word “Sweet” embroidered across the back. Next, I pulled a tight pink t-shirt over my head and flipped my wet hair down my back. I left my bedroom seconds later, hoping my eyes weren’t too red from crying and my lips weren’t too swollen from Cash’s ravaging.
Even after my shower, my inner thighs felt sensitive, rubbed raw by Cash’s body. I still throbbed for him. Need him. God, craved him.
I pushed the thought away as I went downstairs. I buried the feelings deep down under the ugly part of me. There would be another night and another man. There always was and there always would be. I just needed to get my head on straight.
I knew just how to do that.
I avoided the room with the sounds of gunfire erupting from the TV and headed for my dad’s study. It was a place that once meant safety and security. Now it held what I needed.
The study was just as dark as the rest of the house. I bypassed the massive, cherry wood desk and headed straight for the place my dad kept his best liquor. I reached behind the mediocre stuff for the clear crystal bottle of vodka, twisting the top off as soon as it was in my hands.
“A lady doesn’t drink spirits,” my grandmother once said. “She also doesn’t spread her legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry, Catarina.”
I scoffed. “Here’s to you, old biddy.”
I gave a silent toast to her memory before raising the three thousand dollar bottle of Russian vodka to my mouth.
The liquid hit my lips and sloshed down my throat. It was smooth going down - as a top dollar, collector’s edition bottle of alcohol should be. Whether it came from a rich man’s cabinet or a cheap dive bar, alcohol always brought the numbness I needed.
As I waited for it to do its magic, I dropped to my dad’s leather chair. Somewhere outside a frog croaked. Inside the sound of the TV blared. But in my dad’s study I was safe. Just me, my drink, my sore, used pussy, and my memories.
I slouched down in the chair and propped my feet on the desk, crossing one ankle over the other. Time to get serious. I lifted the bottle to my mouth and tilted it up, loving the beautiful sound of liquid sloshing around.
This time the alcohol burned, just enough to make me wince, but I took another drink then another. I wanted to get rip-roaring drunk on my dad’s best stash of vodka.
After a few drinks, it still wasn’t enough. I could still remember Cash’s hands on me and his body claiming mine as if he had a right to.
“Fuck you, cowboy,” I whispered, staring off into the darkness of the study. “I don’t need you.”
I took another long drag from the bottle, tipping my head back further. I drank until I couldn’t anymore. Until the voices in my head screamed to stop.
Until Luke’s face hovered in front of my eyes.
Pain hit my chest, squeezing the shit out of my heart. It made me gasp, inhaling too much of the filthy rich vodka. With watery eyes, I tore the bottle from my mouth and doubled over, wrapping my arms around my middle as anguish tore through me. I was back on that empty road, kneeling besides Luke’s lifeless body again. Screaming for him to return to me.
My fist went to my chest, right over my heart. I hurt so much. So goddamn much. I cried, sobs that I couldn’t stop. Wails that I couldn’t contain.
I must have been making racket. I heard someone race down the hallway. I couldn’t stop the grief that was escaping me in sobs and cries. Couldn’t stop it even when the hallway light flipped on, lighting up the study like it was fuckin’ Christmas.
A colorful swear word escaped Nathan when he saw me bent over in our dad’s chair, drunk and trying to curl myself into a ball and disappear.
“Shit, Cat,” he hissed, barging into the room. His long legs ate up the distance across the massive study. He didn’t even glance at the vodka bottle I still grasped as he went around the desk.
“What happened? What the fuck did your date do?” he asked, dropping to his knees in front of me. His voice held a combination of fear and anger as he glanced over me, looking for evidence that I had been hurt.
Great, big sobs tore from me, ripping through every ounce of my soul. I hugged myself tighter, needing the physical pain that shot through me as it became harder to breathe. I didn’t see Nathan in front of me. I only saw Luke’s face and felt guilt for feeling something for Cash.
Nathan grabbed my arms, giving me a hard, rough shake when I didn’t answer him.
“What the fuck, Cat? Did he hurt you?” he snapped, his fingers digging into me.
I didn’t answer and Nathan became furious.
“Goddamn it! Answer me!” he roared, shaking me again only harder. “Did he hurt you?”
The pain from Nathan’s hands finally woke me up and brought me back to harsh, cold reality.
I tore my arms from him, my eyes blazing spitfire. In seconds I went from a sobbing, pitiful girl to an utterly, outrageously mad woman.
I shot to my feet, going on the attack.
“Yes, he hurt me!” I shouted, facing Nathan as he stood up too. “He made me feel! He touched me and made me forget! I love Luke, Nathan! Luke! Not a damned cowboy I just met! I hate him! Hate him, hate him, hate him!”
I grabbed the vodka bottle from the desk and flung it across the room. The bottle smashed into the dark red wall and shattered. Clear liquid ran down it in rivers.
Tears of rage swam in front of my eyes. I slapped my hand over my mouth, cutting off a sob before it escaped me.
Nathan turned and stared at me like I had lost my mind.
“Are you finished?” he asked in a harsh voice, staring down a
t me with irritation.
“No,” I said, shaking my head and making the tears fall faster. “I’ll never be done. You just don’t get it.”
My gaze stayed locked on the vodka-soaked wall. My dad’s prized artwork hung near it. His expensive decanters and bottles of alcohol teased me in my peripheral vision, whispering my name in the darkness. I didn’t want to drink them; I just wanted to throw every single one of them against the wall.
Nathan sighed and ran a hand over his head, his anger vanishing. He stepped into my line of vision, forcing me to look up at him or stare at his chest.
I chose his chest.
“Cat, look at me.”
I ignored him, something I had gotten good at doing.
Nathan sighed again and stuck his hands in his pockets.
“Fine, don’t look at me. I’m still going to say it anyway. It’s been one year since Luke died. One. You have every right to grief but you’re strong, Cat. Don’t try to check out because of the pain. Luke would want you to be happy. He would want you to find someone to love. So do yourself a favor and let it happen.”
Through my carefully downcast eyes, I caught a glimpse of the corner of his mouth lifting up.
“If you don’t do it for yourself, then do it for the house and Dad’s liquor collection,” he said with a smirk.
His words broke through my fog of anguish. I took a much-needed deep breath. Nathan was right. Not about Luke wanting me to love someone. That would never happen. And not about the safety of Dad’s precious bottles of overpriced booze. No.
Nathan was right about me being strong.
In order to stay that way I knew what I needed to do. My car was dead, but I had my brother.
I lifted my chin, meeting Nathan’s eyes.
“Take me home, Nate.”
He stared at me a minute then gave a short nod. “Okay. Tate and I will take you back.”
I let out a deep breath. I would return to my college apartment. Somewhere safe. Somewhere no one knew my past. Where memories didn’t haunt me and I could forget about a certain cowboy.
And how he made me feel.