Page 25 of Trust Again

Dammit.

I grabbed my bag, gave a half-assed excuse, and pushed my way to the door. Outside, the chill of the night air hit me and it was still pouring down rain. I shielded my eyes with one hand and looked around the parking lot.

Spencer’s rust-red Volvo stood out from other cars even on the darkest night.

“Shit,” I hissed.

He was out of his mind.

I took off running toward him, which was quite a feat in high heels in the rain.

I could hear him cursing as I approached. The driver’s-side door was wide open, and Spencer was sitting in the seat, his cheeks burning red, as he tried to get the key in the ignition.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted. “Are you crazy?”

He continued poking his key into thin air.

“Spencer, you shouldn’t be driving.”

Rain streaked my make-up, and flattened my hair onto my head. Spencer ignored me.

“I’m worried about you,” I said, ducking my head into the car as I reached carefully for the key.

Spencer’s left hand shot out, and he grabbed my wrist. “You know I care about you, but right now I’m not in the mood for your company, Dawn.” He pushed my hand away. “I mean it.”

It felt like a slap in the face.

Again, Spencer tried to put the key in the ignition. Again he failed. “Fuck.”

“Let me drive.”

“Get out of here, Dawn.”

“Please!” I begged.

“For fuck’s sake!” He slammed the palm of his hands on the steering wheel, once, twice and then with a clenched fist, and I didn’t have the guts to say anything.

Now he was clenching the wheel in both hands and had dropped his forehead against it.

“I’m getting Kaden,” I said softly.

Again his hand came out of nowhere. This time he grabbed the hem of my dress.

“No.” His hand quivered on my thigh, he was so agitated. He lifted his head, leaned it back against the headrest, then looked at me sidelong with his dark eyes. Beads of sweat had bloomed on his forehead.

This wasn’t the Spencer I knew, the one who never lost his cool, who would never drink too much and then try to drive. Something was off, that part was obvious. But it wasn’t just the thing between us that set him off. I was sure of that.

“What happened?”

“I have to go home,” he said, his voice raw.

“Let me drive you. I can walk from there.”

He shook his head softly. “No. Portland. I have to go to Portland.” He mumbled something that sounded a bit like “emergency,” and my alarm bells started to go off.

“Scoot over. I’m driving you there.”

The corners of his mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “I can’t be with you right now, Dawn.”