Page 290 of The Baby Twist

“Judging by your location, you just left. Sit tight, and I’ll send Mateo to come get you. You’re going to hit major traffic on the way back at this time.”

“I’m not sitting around waiting for Mateo. I do know how to drive.”

“I’m sure you do, and it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s the assholes on the road.”

“I need you to stop worrying so much. Keep my location open and watch my little car drive home. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Good idea. I’ll do it now, babe.”

“I know you will. I love you. I have to concentrate on the road now.”

“I love you too. Drive safe, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

His worrying annoyed me at times but made me smile. I was jamming to the radio and feeling exhausted from the drive. I wasthirty minutes from being home, and I couldn’t wait to lie down. My lower back had been killing me all day, something fierce, and I needed my sexy boyfriend to massage it. At least I had some entertainment. The couple in the car in front of me were arguing. He was yelling and throwing his hands up. She was yelling back and pointing at him. It was quite humorous until he suddenly slammed on the brakes, and my car rammed into his back end. I froze, gripping the steering wheel. The airbag didn’t go off, thank God, because we weren’t going that fast, and I didn’t hit hard—just enough to shake me up. Oh, shit. How was I going to tell Charlie?

The man climbed out of the car. He was angry and headed toward me.

“Oh, no, asshole. You don’t get to be mad,” I mumbled, climbing out of the car.

He stopped when he saw me, taking note of my oversized belly.

“Oh, my God!” The woman in the passenger seat ran over to me. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

“Look at what you did, asshole!” she yelled at the man. “All because you don’t know how to control your anger!”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry,” The man spoke.

“Why the hell did you slam on your brakes?” I shouted, placing my hand on my lower back. “There wasn’t anyone in front of you!”

“She pissed me off.” He pointed at the girl.

“Oh yeah, dickhead. Blame me!” she shouted back.

“We need to call the police,” I said, reaching inside my car and grabbing my phone.

“No. Don’t,” the guy said. “I’ll give you my name and number. Please, lady. No cops.”

“Sorry, but we need to file a police report,” I said, dialing 911.

“Yasmin, get the fuck in the car!” the man shouted.

“Oh, hell no! Don’t you dare!” I ran after the man.

It was too late. He and his woman climbed into the car and locked the doors. Thank God I had enough sense to take a picture of the license plate number before he could get away. My phone rang, and it was Charlie. Shit.

“Hello.”

“What happened? Why did you suddenly stop?”

“Charlie, take a deep breath.”

“Marley, what the hell happened?”

“I was in a little fender bender.” I bit my bottom lip.

“WHAT?!” he shouted. “I’m on my way. Did you call the police?”