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Authors: S.N. Garza
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me.”
What?
“Why?”
He just looked at me with a straight face. No expression. He gave nothing away as he just watched me, waiting for my promise. His body seemed calmer so he waited with unruffled patience. I suddenly felt like a little girl throwing a tantrum.
“Okay. I promise.”
He brought his hand down quickly and gave me back my card. I really wanted to yank it away, but I knew that would be childish so I reached for it slowly.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Pixie. It’s almost eleven so I’ll follow you home and make sure you get there.” There was no way he would just let this be the end. I kinda liked that though. It was a sweet gesture to make sure I got home safely. Almost like a boyfr-no! Like a good friend who cared about his friend. Who was I kidding? I doubt he followed his guy friends, if he had any, home to make sure they got through the front door safe and sound.
This friendship was off to a semi-rocky start but that’s okay. I liked that he made an effort. I nodded and walked to the door of my truck. He walked with me and held the door open until I was seated and belted in.
“Drive safe.”
I nodded and said, “I will.”
He nodded once and walked slow and sure to his own. I waited until I heard his engine start before backing out and making my way home.
With no traffic I was able to put my lead foot down and go about eighty, close to eighty-five, on the 225 before I slowed to go over the Fred Hartman Bridge. I lived in old Baytown, so the neighborhoods were quaint and small. My exit was the first one and made my way home in no time.
Pulling up into the driveway, I got out to wait for Dax at the front porch steps.
He pulled up to the sidewalk and parked. It seemed to take him a few minutes before exiting. I wondered what was wrong.
Dax slammed the driver’s side door, hard. When he didn’t move from the door, I was tempted to just say thanks and see ya later. Why was he acting so weird?
He slowly walked around his truck and up the walkway to me with his head cast down and his hands fisted tight at his sides. Whoa. He looked mad. Like scary mad. Oh, crap.
6
Scarlet
He stood right in front of me. Not looking at me, but at my feet. As if he was trying to control the rage I felt radiating from him. It was permeating the air around us, and I wasn’t really afraid, but I didn’t want that anger coming towards me. I was almost afraid smoke would steam out of his ears. But I don’t think now would be the time to be humorous if I said something to that affect. I just stayed still, and waited.
It wasn’t long before his voice hardened and rough as told me, “Four. Do not ever drive like that again. That scared the fucking life out of me. You could have gotten hurt. Or fucking pulled over. Or God for-fucking-bid, hurt.”
I really didn’t feel like arguing with him, so I said, “Yes. Okay. Sorry. I didn’t think-
He leaned in closer, and his tone became rough. “That’s right. You didn’t fucking think. You know what I would have seen if somehow you had lost control of the truck? Watch you fucking die by stupidity.”
“Hey! Here’s number one for you. You never get to treat me like that. Number two!” I could see he was about to blow a gasket by the widening of his eyes and the red creeping up his neck, “I’m not done, buster! Don’t speak. You don’t talk to me like that, either. Ever. Understand? Or this ends…now.”
I’ve never yelled like that before. It got my heart rate pumping wildly in my chest and his eyes sparkled with anger, and regret. He leaned back and I could see his hands fisted, then released, straining his fingers out as if he was releasing his anger from the tips.
Yeah, I totally saw pain hidden in the depths of his eyes. As if getting hurt would have upset him. I never wanted to get hurt, but him caring enough to be upset? I kinda liked that. Twisted, but he really wasn’t as badass as he thought. He sighed
What?
“Why?”
He just looked at me with a straight face. No expression. He gave nothing away as he just watched me, waiting for my promise. His body seemed calmer so he waited with unruffled patience. I suddenly felt like a little girl throwing a tantrum.
“Okay. I promise.”
He brought his hand down quickly and gave me back my card. I really wanted to yank it away, but I knew that would be childish so I reached for it slowly.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Pixie. It’s almost eleven so I’ll follow you home and make sure you get there.” There was no way he would just let this be the end. I kinda liked that though. It was a sweet gesture to make sure I got home safely. Almost like a boyfr-no! Like a good friend who cared about his friend. Who was I kidding? I doubt he followed his guy friends, if he had any, home to make sure they got through the front door safe and sound.
This friendship was off to a semi-rocky start but that’s okay. I liked that he made an effort. I nodded and walked to the door of my truck. He walked with me and held the door open until I was seated and belted in.
“Drive safe.”
I nodded and said, “I will.”
He nodded once and walked slow and sure to his own. I waited until I heard his engine start before backing out and making my way home.
With no traffic I was able to put my lead foot down and go about eighty, close to eighty-five, on the 225 before I slowed to go over the Fred Hartman Bridge. I lived in old Baytown, so the neighborhoods were quaint and small. My exit was the first one and made my way home in no time.
Pulling up into the driveway, I got out to wait for Dax at the front porch steps.
He pulled up to the sidewalk and parked. It seemed to take him a few minutes before exiting. I wondered what was wrong.
Dax slammed the driver’s side door, hard. When he didn’t move from the door, I was tempted to just say thanks and see ya later. Why was he acting so weird?
He slowly walked around his truck and up the walkway to me with his head cast down and his hands fisted tight at his sides. Whoa. He looked mad. Like scary mad. Oh, crap.
6
Scarlet
He stood right in front of me. Not looking at me, but at my feet. As if he was trying to control the rage I felt radiating from him. It was permeating the air around us, and I wasn’t really afraid, but I didn’t want that anger coming towards me. I was almost afraid smoke would steam out of his ears. But I don’t think now would be the time to be humorous if I said something to that affect. I just stayed still, and waited.
It wasn’t long before his voice hardened and rough as told me, “Four. Do not ever drive like that again. That scared the fucking life out of me. You could have gotten hurt. Or fucking pulled over. Or God for-fucking-bid, hurt.”
I really didn’t feel like arguing with him, so I said, “Yes. Okay. Sorry. I didn’t think-
He leaned in closer, and his tone became rough. “That’s right. You didn’t fucking think. You know what I would have seen if somehow you had lost control of the truck? Watch you fucking die by stupidity.”
“Hey! Here’s number one for you. You never get to treat me like that. Number two!” I could see he was about to blow a gasket by the widening of his eyes and the red creeping up his neck, “I’m not done, buster! Don’t speak. You don’t talk to me like that, either. Ever. Understand? Or this ends…now.”
I’ve never yelled like that before. It got my heart rate pumping wildly in my chest and his eyes sparkled with anger, and regret. He leaned back and I could see his hands fisted, then released, straining his fingers out as if he was releasing his anger from the tips.
Yeah, I totally saw pain hidden in the depths of his eyes. As if getting hurt would have upset him. I never wanted to get hurt, but him caring enough to be upset? I kinda liked that. Twisted, but he really wasn’t as badass as he thought. He sighed
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