Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) Read Online Free
Author: Lena Bourne
at the wall. Because he might not take it back, might actually end up hurting Gail again. And I don't know if I can stop it. Maybe I should warn her.
My finger's hovering over her name on the screen of the phone, but I don't dial it. Can't. I have to try and fix this before I admit failure. Admit that there might actually not be a future for Gail and me ever. Not in this lifetime. I've said it often enough in the past six months, thought it too, but never like this, never with such a lack of hope.
The next morning, I arrive to the ward almost half an hour early. Not because I planned it, but because I drove way too fast, almost got into two accidents. I couldn't slow down. Besides, I should really get some practice in. But Andrew's car is way too clunky, even if the acceleration is awesome. Gail's car though, that one's just perfect. I stifle the thought the moment it emerges, but it’s still too late to prevent the sharp pain erupting in my chest right after it.
I concentrate on the rough bricks of the wall enclosing the psych ward until all I see are the pores, the uneven surface, and the dirty white lines holding it all together.
"You been waiting long?" Mike asks, and I jerk up, turn to him so sharply my neck cramps.
"Not really," I lie. I feel like I've been standing here for a decade.
He's wearing the same oversized jeans and sweatshirt he did when I first visited him here, and his leather jacket looks all wrong with the outfit. Not that he didn't always look stupid in that thing. Who does he think he is? Fucking Scarface?
There's a glint in his dark eyes though, and it looks a lot like twisted happiness.
He slides his hand over the passenger door then opens it. "Andrew's car? I thought you didn't want to be seen dead in this thing."
"No, that was you," I say and open the driver's door, climb in, watch him do the same, don't start the engine.
"We need to talk," I say.
"We need to get the fuck away from this place," he counters interrupting the rest of the sentence I had practiced.
"Look, I get it. You want to get back at me for screwing up the business," I continue like he didn't interrupt. "But you have to leave Gail out of it. She has nothing to do with it."
"Oh, I have to, do I?" Mike asks, fastening his seat belt. "Seems to me she had a lot to do with you leaving me and going to Alaska."
"I didn't fucking want to go back to prison!" I yell. "I told you we were taking too many risks."
Leaving him? He really is sick in the head.
"Nothing was gonna happen to you, Scott," he says. "Stop dramatizing."
"Right. One bad move and I'd be right back in prison. For ten years or more," I spit out. But we're getting off the subject. "Just take back all that shit you said about hurting Gail. I'll do whatever you want me to."
He chuckles and my stomach clenches, acid rising in my throat.
"You want her to be safe, then you'll do exactly as I tell you," he says. "Right now, you don't get to see her. Maybe if you're good, I'll change my mind."
He's smiling, but his black eyes are so cold, so dead, I might actually still be staring at that wall. He is serious. He was serious the night he made the threat. I can't believe this is actually happening. It's like I'm stuck here with some nightmare version of Mike, and I can't wake up.
"Now, take me to my place. I need to change."
I start the engine, clamping my mouth shut. If I say anything right now, I'll make it worse. If I don't start driving I might actually strangle him.
"And then, in a few days, once I burn these institution clothes, I'll introduce you to my new friends," he says, turning on the radio. "They've been dying to finally meet you."
I pull onto the expressway too fast, totally cutting off a silver station wagon. The concrete divider is right there too. I could just end this right now, and then Gail would be safe. But I don't. Instead I pull into the middle lane and slow down, because I can't let go of her yet.
Mike hasn't called me
My finger's hovering over her name on the screen of the phone, but I don't dial it. Can't. I have to try and fix this before I admit failure. Admit that there might actually not be a future for Gail and me ever. Not in this lifetime. I've said it often enough in the past six months, thought it too, but never like this, never with such a lack of hope.
The next morning, I arrive to the ward almost half an hour early. Not because I planned it, but because I drove way too fast, almost got into two accidents. I couldn't slow down. Besides, I should really get some practice in. But Andrew's car is way too clunky, even if the acceleration is awesome. Gail's car though, that one's just perfect. I stifle the thought the moment it emerges, but it’s still too late to prevent the sharp pain erupting in my chest right after it.
I concentrate on the rough bricks of the wall enclosing the psych ward until all I see are the pores, the uneven surface, and the dirty white lines holding it all together.
"You been waiting long?" Mike asks, and I jerk up, turn to him so sharply my neck cramps.
"Not really," I lie. I feel like I've been standing here for a decade.
He's wearing the same oversized jeans and sweatshirt he did when I first visited him here, and his leather jacket looks all wrong with the outfit. Not that he didn't always look stupid in that thing. Who does he think he is? Fucking Scarface?
There's a glint in his dark eyes though, and it looks a lot like twisted happiness.
He slides his hand over the passenger door then opens it. "Andrew's car? I thought you didn't want to be seen dead in this thing."
"No, that was you," I say and open the driver's door, climb in, watch him do the same, don't start the engine.
"We need to talk," I say.
"We need to get the fuck away from this place," he counters interrupting the rest of the sentence I had practiced.
"Look, I get it. You want to get back at me for screwing up the business," I continue like he didn't interrupt. "But you have to leave Gail out of it. She has nothing to do with it."
"Oh, I have to, do I?" Mike asks, fastening his seat belt. "Seems to me she had a lot to do with you leaving me and going to Alaska."
"I didn't fucking want to go back to prison!" I yell. "I told you we were taking too many risks."
Leaving him? He really is sick in the head.
"Nothing was gonna happen to you, Scott," he says. "Stop dramatizing."
"Right. One bad move and I'd be right back in prison. For ten years or more," I spit out. But we're getting off the subject. "Just take back all that shit you said about hurting Gail. I'll do whatever you want me to."
He chuckles and my stomach clenches, acid rising in my throat.
"You want her to be safe, then you'll do exactly as I tell you," he says. "Right now, you don't get to see her. Maybe if you're good, I'll change my mind."
He's smiling, but his black eyes are so cold, so dead, I might actually still be staring at that wall. He is serious. He was serious the night he made the threat. I can't believe this is actually happening. It's like I'm stuck here with some nightmare version of Mike, and I can't wake up.
"Now, take me to my place. I need to change."
I start the engine, clamping my mouth shut. If I say anything right now, I'll make it worse. If I don't start driving I might actually strangle him.
"And then, in a few days, once I burn these institution clothes, I'll introduce you to my new friends," he says, turning on the radio. "They've been dying to finally meet you."
I pull onto the expressway too fast, totally cutting off a silver station wagon. The concrete divider is right there too. I could just end this right now, and then Gail would be safe. But I don't. Instead I pull into the middle lane and slow down, because I can't let go of her yet.
Mike hasn't called me
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