Trashy (Take It Off #10)(42)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I was kind of sorry he left in such a hurry.

I got back in the Mazda and drove the rest of the way to the repair shop. Those fuckers didn’t stand a chance. I parked the car right at the entrance in a spot that wasn’t a parking spot at all and stalked into the service center.

I pulled out the receipt and slapped it down on the counter. Everyone in the place jumped and sat up at attention.

I snarled as I spoke. I told them how very unhappy I was that my woman got ripped off and was sweating her ass off in the southern heat.

Then I made sure they knew just how unhappy I was.

By the time I slammed out of the place, Roxie was getting a brand new air-conditioner, an oil change, and a set of brand new tires.

For free.

It would be done tomorrow.

If it wasn’t, this place would be shut down by the end of next week.

Fuckers.

I took a cab back to the club.

Who the fuck had been following Roxie? And why?

27

Roxie

I was still shaking when I pulled into a nearby gas station. It wasn’t the one I usually stopped at on my way home, and I chose that one on purpose.

I needed a few extra minutes to calm my racing heart. I knew Harlow was most likely at home, and I didn’t want to get there looking as freaked out as I felt.

Maybe it was just a joke.

Maybe it had been a horrible, horrible joke.

It wasn’t, a voice inside me hissed.

I decided, since I was there, to top off the tank. Technically, Adam didn’t need gas, but I figured if I was going to drive his car, the least I could do would be to replace the gas.

When I was done, I drove the car forward into a spot by the door. I walked inside to pay for the gas and decided to grab something cold to drink. Maybe the icy cold water would jolt me back to reality.

Scratch the water. I needed something with sugar.

I wandered down the candy isle and when I spied a pack of SweeTarts, bile rose in my throat. Once my favorite candy, it now ignited my gag reflex.

Lovely.

Avoiding all the food, I went toward the back and the row of drink coolers. I stood there staring at all the choices for long minutes without processing what I was seeing. Finally, I blinked and opened the glass door and reached in for a Sprite.

I felt sort of numb. I guess I was in shock. It wasn’t every day a girl had a gun pointed at her face. Not even Craig had done that to me.

I let the door slip from my grasp and it fell shut with a thud. An image reflected in the glass in front of me.

There was a man standing right behind me.

He was menacing and intimidating. Waves of anger rolled off him.

I spun around, startled.

Craig curled his upper lip at me and practically snarled.

“How did you know I was here?” I gasped and held the bottle of soda between us like it was a weapon.

“What the fuck are you doing in his car?” he asked, stepping toward me.

I took a step back, trying to recover the distance between us. My back came up against the cooler door, the chilly temp of the glass shocking me through my shirt.

“I’m having car trouble,” I said, hating that I was explaining. But I was scared. I knew I shouldn’t be, but I was.

Craig’s eyes raked over my body and fastened on my shirt. Adam’s shirt.

“Are you wearing his clothes?” he rumbled low, but it might well have been a roar.

Yes. Yes, I was. And it reminded me that I wasn’t with Craig anymore. It was over. He didn’t own me. I pushed off the cooler and moved to walk past him.

He grabbed me by the arm and tossed me back to hit the glass again.

I glanced around for someone that had seen, someone I could signal for help. No one was there.

“I’m leaving,” I said in a strong, even voice.

“You can leave when I say you can,” he replied.

Men like him were so incredibly arrogant. He thought he could walk into any place, even a public place, and dominate me. He thought he could get away with it. In a way, I guess he was. Craig knew how to abuse me in the most quiet of ways. He knew exactly how far he could push without drawing anyone’s eye.

“I’m just here to remind you about our appointment tomorrow morning.”

“I told you I’m not coming.”

His hands fisted at his sides and he leaned in close. I didn’t flinch or cower away. “Listen here, you little whore,” he whispered. The scent of cinnamon schnapps on his breath made me gag. I couldn’t force it back, and my shoulders heaved.

Craig grabbed my chin, crushing it in his grip and pinning my head against the cooler door. “You might be spreading your legs for Mr. Playboy. Maybe he’s even filling your head with pretty lies,” he said. “But you’re mine. And you will do this.”

I jerked my head out of his grasp and shoved him away from me. He bumped into the rack behind him and chip bags fell to the floor. His eyes widened in shock that I would dare put my hands on him.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” I said. I rushed past him and up to the counter. I dug some money out of the bottom of my bag and slapped it on the counter. “Pump three,” I told the cashier as she reached for the cash.

“And this,” I said, holding up the soda. “Keep the change.”

I rushed out of the mart as fast as I could go.

With shaking hands, I fumbled with my bag, trying to find the keys. When I pulled them out, they fell from my grasp onto the pavement. I bent to pick them up and noted a pair of dirty sneakers stepping up beside me.

His knuckles slammed into my side, and I made a high-pitched sound. I stumbled over and caught myself from falling with my palm.

Pain radiated through my middle and scorched across my lower back. Craig grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head to the side so he could whisper-yell in my ear. I felt the disgusting spray of spittle slap against my ear as he spoke. “Be there tomorrow or that punch will be the very least of the ways I’ll make you suffer.”

He shoved me down and stalked away.

I climbed in the BMW and locked the doors.

Once Craig had driven away, in the opposite direction I needed to go, I drove home in silence. I barely noticed the pain in my side because the aching in my chest was much worse.

I had a really bad feeling about this.

Just as I thought, Harlow was at our place. She was in the bathroom curling her hair when I hurried past on my way to my room.

“Hey, stranger!” she called out.

“Hey, yourself!” I called back, trying to inject some kind of enthusiasm in my tone. I went into my room as my chin wobbled.

I would not cry. I would not.