Revved (Page 94)

“What are you doing out here? I was looking for you.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“I’m fine.” He brushes my words off with impatience. “What I’m not fine about is getting back from the track and you not being there.”

“I-I’m sorry.” My lips tremble.

“What’s going on, babe? Are you okay?” He takes a step toward me.

Instead of staying put or moving toward him, I take a step back. And he understands instantly. I see it clearly in the show of dismay that passes over his face.

“Andressa…what’s going on?” His voice wavers.

“I-I just…I don’t think I can do this anymore.” The words leave me in a breathless rush.

“You can’t do…what anymore?” His words are carefully spoken. Almost like he’s afraid to say them for fear of what will come.

I take a deep breath. “This.” I gesture a helpless hand between us.

“Babe, if this is about the accident…it was just a bump.”

“It wasn’t just a fucking bump!” The words rip from my throat. “You could have died out there!”

“Bullshit. It was minor. I’ve had worse. I’m here, Andressa, and I’m fine.”

He tries to placate me with his hands and words as he attempts to move closer to me, but I ward him off, moving further away.

He doesn’t like that. It’s clearly written all over his face in lines of deep frustration. But I can’t absorb anything of him. All I’m attuned to are my own fears right now.

It’s almost like it’s not really me standing here, thinking and saying these things. It’s like I’ve stepped out of my body, handed it over to someone else, and I’m staring back at myself in abstract horror, unable to stop myself from destroying the best thing I’ve ever had. Because all that matters right now is stopping the fear and panic, willing to do anything to make the noise in my head stop, make the debilitating and crushing panic stop, even if that means wrecking everything.

Him. Me. Us.

Tears start running down my face. “You’re fine now, but what about the next time? One wrong hit. That’s all it takes, and then you’re gone—forever. I thought I could do this…but I can’t. I’m sorry.” My head is shaking, and I’m stepping backward, farther away from him.

In this moment, I just need to get away. I can’t see past the fear. I’m blinded by it. And right now, I will do anything to stop feeling this way.

Turning mid-stride, I start walking away. But he grabs my arm from behind, pulling me back to him.

There’s fire and ire and hurt in his eyes. “That’s it?” he growls. “You say you can’t do this anymore, and then you just fucking walk away?”

My mind is reeling. I feel trapped, cornered like a wild animal. And like a wild animal, I’ll do what’s necessary to get away even if it means hurting the one person who doesn’t deserve to be hurt by me.

“Yes, that’s exactly how it is! I told you that I can’t do this anymore! I tried, and it’s not working. Now, let me go.” I tug at my arm, but his hold is too strong, and it’s like he doesn’t even feel me.

“I can’t fucking believe this…all this time together…I…” He pauses, taking a ragged, painful-sounding breath. Then, his eyes meet mine, holding me with such a power I can’t even begin to explain. “Jesus…Andressa, is this really happening? Are you really…leaving me?”

Deep breath…

“Yes. I am.”

The look on his face…I never want to see that look on anyone’s face ever again. I think I’m actually witnessing heartbreak in this moment, and I hate myself for it. Abhorrently hate myself.

He drops my arm like I’ve just scolded him.

“I’m sorry…” My voice breaks, tears running over my lips into my mouth. My eyes lower with shame and the pain of my own heart breaking. I turn and start walking away again.

“Andressa! You can’t just leave like this! You can’t leave me!” The panic in his voice is palpable.

It slices over my skin like the razor blades of pain I deserve, burrowing deep inside, splintering into my bones, crucifying me.

I keep my lips pressed together. If I part them, I’m afraid I’ll weaken and turn back to him and take it all back. So, I continue walking away from the only man I’ve ever loved.

“You’re leaving because you’re afraid, but I’m not your dad, Andressa! Do you hear me? I’m not him. I’m not gonna die on those fucking tracks!”

Stopping at the mention of my father, I turn back to Carrick. “You don’t know that!” I cry out. “I believed with all my heart that my dad wouldn’t die out there! I was so fucking sure of it! I thought because he was the greatest driver in the world that it somehow made him invincible! Immune to death. That he would never die. And I was fucking wrong!” I scream, my chest heaving with emotion. “One wrong move in that car, that’s all it takes, and then you’re gone—forever.” My voice is cold, hard, detached. I don’t even recognize myself right now. “I fell victim to my certainty once, and it tore me apart. I won’t do it again.”

I think it’s in this moment that he truly realizes that this is actually happening.

His hard mask slips into place, armoring himself against me. “You go, and we’re done for good. You walk out that door. I won’t chase you.” His voice is rough with emotion but serious, deadly serious.