Page 38 of Things I Wish I Said

Chapter twenty-three

GRAYSON

I sit in a darkened corner of Ernie’s, a seedy bar on the edge of town, with Dustin’s crew. A scarred oak table is in front of me, holding half a dozen drinks, including a fifth of vodka, while alternative rock plays in the background.

Thanks to their willingness to serve minors, the fact that I’m slumping in the booth completely shitfaced doesn’t faze anyone. Neither does the blunt I bring to my lips as I take a drag.

Some of Dustin’s best customers frequent this bar, so it’s no surprise he seems to have some kind of backdoor agreement with the owner.

Hell, Dustin probably gives him a cut for looking the other way when he deals.

He could slit my throat and dispose of me in the dumpster out back and management wouldn’t bat an eye.

I inhale, glancing at his harsh features through the haze of smoke .

I’ve lost count of how long I’ve been sitting here getting high, but it’s been long enough to fuck me up.

I feel different than usual.

Euphoric.

Nothing matters, and all is good in the world.

It’s exactly what I wanted.

I smile, my fingers numb as I stare down at the blunt between them, then frown. “You put something in this shit, didn’t you?” I ask, slurring my words.

Dustin laughs, the glow of the pendant light above him bouncing off his buzz cut. “What you don’t know won’t kill you, De Leon.”

I should be scared, but the prickle of fear doesn’t come. Even my anger is muted.

“What did you put in here?” I ask again.

My voice doesn’t sound right, like each word is traveling through mud, and I’m miles away.

Fuck it. I press the blunt to my lips and inhale again.

If I feel like this, who the hell cares?

The world goes hazy around me. My breathing slows and my head falls back against the vinyl seat.

This is what I wanted , I think. To numb my thoughts. To forget how people you love leave. My father. Rachel. Ryleigh.

I close my eyes against the spinning room, wild bursts of light appearing behind my eyelids. The sounds around me rise, amplified as though I’m in an amphitheater instead of a bar .

My stomach lurches, and I straighten, blinking my eyes open at the sound of Dustin’s voice.

I glance over at him, frowning. He’s talking about me, but I don’t know what he’s saying.

As if on cue, Dustin turns his dark gaze to me, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “I think it’s time you go, De Leon.”

A prickling sensation crawls up my spine, strong enough it forces me to my feet. “I can’t drive like this,” I say, blinking, my lids heavy like lead.

Dustin stands, his jaw locked as he meets my eyes. “I said , you need to go. Now.”

His dark tone is a warning; so is the dead look in his eyes.

I mumble something incoherent, then take my leave, expecting him to follow, and surprised when he doesn’t. My paranoia mounts as I step outside, glancing around me for signs someone is out here, waiting for me.

The air is thick and ripe with the scent of coming rain, the sky so dark, there’s not a star in sight. A handful of cars dot the gravel lot.

I stumble toward my car, unlock it, and slide inside, resting back in my seat and closing my eyes. The strange visions are still there, dancing behind my lids. It’s an array of dark shadowy figures and shapes followed by a burst of bright color.

I bring my hands to my head and shake it as if I can wipe my mind clean, but I can’t, and I debate calling Ryleigh before I think better of it. I don’t want her anywhere near Dustin Fields .

Remembering the warning in his tone, I start the car and pull out, my tires spitting gravel onto the road.

I shouldn’t be driving, but my head is a fucking mess. Besides, when Dustin gives you a warning, you listen.

My stomach churns, but I ignore it, taking the back roads into town where there are infinitely less people.

The familiar growl of a truck echoes in the distance, growing louder by the second and spiking fear in my blood. I glance in the rearview mirror, and my eyes widen when I spot the silhouette of Dustin’s pickup in the dark.

Dread twists my guts when his headlights flick on, piercing the twilight like daggers.

“Shit.” I accelerate, my heart pounding in sync with the screech of my tires. “Come on,” I mutter, weaving through the desolate country road.

Trees blur past me as my speed increases, but my lead is short lived. Dustin closes the gap between us, the front of his truck so close to my car, I can no longer see his front bumper.

My stomach squeezes as I press the gas a little harder, but it’s not enough. Dustin’s truck surges forward, slamming into the rear of my car with a sickening thud. The impact jolts my entire body, rattling my teeth.

I grunt, trying to gain my bearings while my heart slams into my ribs.

Somewhere inside my car, my phone rings. The glow of the screen catches my eye on the passenger seat, along with Dustin’ s name.

I pick it up, answering in the hope he’ll back down if he knows he gave me a good scare, that he got what he wanted.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap.

“Think you can run?” Dustin’s voice crackles through the line along with the roar of his engine. “Payback’s a bitch, De Leon.”

A jolt of adrenaline surges through my veins as the line goes dead, and I drop the phone.

“Fuck!” I slam the wheel with one hand, instantly sober with the complete certainty this is more than just a game or a chance to scare me—Dustin is hunting me. This is how he gets even.

I slam my foot on the gas pedal and my car jolts forward at the same time Dustin’s truck sunges again. This time, he moves into the left lane, coming alongside me before he rams the side of my car.

Metal shrieks as I fight to maintain control, swerving dangerously close to the guardrail that separates the road from an ominous drop-off.

I grip the steering wheel harder until my knuckles turn white, trying to pull ahead, but every time I gain ground, he closes in on me.

He bumps into the side of my car for a second time. The ear-piercing sound of metal on metal assaults my ear as sparks fly.

I need to get the hell away from him before he gets me killed, but I debate my options and hate all of them .

Cursing my hazy fucking thoughts, I brake and take a sharp right, tires screaming against the asphalt as I struggle not to fly off the road.

I glance in my rearview mirror and see nothing but darkness.

A sigh of relief fills the cab of my car until I train my eyes forward, and a minute later, I catch sight of Dustin’s truck, coming from a side road on my left.

I slam my foot on the gas, hoping to fly past before he can catch me, but it’s not enough.

He turns onto the street beside me, catching my back bumper. Asphalt turns to grass, rushing beneath my tires as I careen off the road.

A jagged rock juts from the earth ahead, so I brake and jerk the wheel to the left, wildly swerving to find the asphalt again and putting myself back in front of Dustin.

Shit .

His truck moves to my right, skirting the berm and the road when he comes up on me, forcing me left of center to avoid collision.

Taillights glow in the distance, sending my heart into a tailspin.

I brake, hoping he’ll leave me in the dust, but he matches my movement.

I accelerate, and he follows.

I can’t outsmart him; I’m too fucked up from whatever he gave me .

We round a corner and the headlights in the distance are now in front of me and growing closer.

I can see the car as it approaches, the silhouette of a person in the driver’s seat.

Fuck.

A horn blares.

I glance over at Dustin, registering the cruel smile curling his mouth.

He’ll kill me at the cost of someone else. He doesn’t care.

My heart leaps into my throat while my grip tightens, knowing what I must do as the car rapidly gains pace.

Inhaling, I go left.

My car flies off the road, bouncing over the uneven terrain while the blare of the oncoming car passes, fading quickly into the distance.

My foot comes off the gas as I try to maintain control.

A grove of trees lies ahead, so I turn right. By some miracle, I avoid them and find the road again, but Dustin anticipates the move and swerves to meet me, striking the right of my car with brutal force.

My BMW spins out of control, the world around me a chaotic blur of darkness. Panic surges through my veins as I fight to regain traction but there’s no hope.

Behind me, the engine of Dustin’s car reverberates like thunder as his bumper collides with the rear quarter panel of my car, the impact pushing me sideways, tearing through the brush toward the grove of trees .

Time slows as my car barrels toward a towering pine, and panic sinks its nails into my throat.

The world tilts violently, and my stomach sinks as I brace for impact.

A shattering sound penetrates the beating of my heart first, followed by the sudden exhale of air from my lungs and the sharp stab of pain.

A burst of agony radiates through me at the same time my head jerks toward the window with a crack , and my vision turns black.

When I wake up sometime later, I have no idea how much time has passed.

I blink my eyes open, but my left one won’t cooperate. It’s swollen and stiff. I can barely open it to squint through the darkness.

I groan when my vision clears, taking in the shattered windshield and the mutilated hood of my car.

I need to get the fuck out of here, but my brain is foggy, my thoughts muddled.

I bat away at the semi-deflated air bag and try to move my legs, but it’s a Herculean effort, and I’m not sure which is worse: the throbbing in the left side of my face, my whole body thumping, or the machete slicing through my brain .

I clutch my head, the feel of something slippery coating my fingers at the same time the distinct tang of metal fills the air. When I lower them, I’m unsurprised to find blood.

I must’ve hit my head.

I glance around me but find nothing but brush and a smattering of pines. The road is barely visible from here, and it dawns on me no one will ever find me unless they know where to look.

A bitter laugh spills from my lips as I reach into my pocket for my phone. Dustin probably left me here to die. Either that or he hoped I’d get arrested for DUI.

I wonder how pissed he’ll be when he finds out he didn’t succeed.

Air wheezes in my lungs, inflating my chest in a slow painful rhythm as I unlock the screen, fingers hovering over Cameron’s name, before I scroll past it and find Ryleigh.

I shouldn’t call her. I know I shouldn’t.

She has enough to deal with, but I can’t call my mother, and for reasons I can’t understand, she’s the only person I can trust. Maybe it’s because she knows what it’s like to have your life falling apart. Or maybe it’s because we’re both sinking and in need of a life raft no one can give us.

Either way, I hit the call button and wait while it rings.

The line clicks, and I know she’s there, but all I can hear is coughing.

Shit .

My chest screams, protests at the sound because Ry hurting is worse than any of my injuries. I try to clear my head, to focus through my muddied thoughts, but it’s hard.

“Hello?” she finally answers, a thicker rasp to her voice than normal.

I close my eyes, dropping my head back onto the headrest both relieved and worried. “Sinclair, it’s Grayson.”

“Grayson? Are you okay?”

I inhale, a pinching in my lungs. “I need you.”

Panic laces her voice. “Grayson, where are you?”

I pull the phone away from my ear as my vision blurs, my thoughts liquid as I manage to send her a pin with my location, then fall back asleep to the frantic sound of her voice.