Speed of My Heart Read Online Free Page A

and humid outside, and even my usual tank and cutoff jean shorts ensemble wasn't cool enough.
    Sitting the last bag of groceries in my trunk, I turned around with plans to put the grocery cart away, and plowed straight into a rock hard body. Unfortunately, it was a body that was all too familiar. It took me half a second to realize who it was.
    Marcus.
    Dread pooled in my stomach.
    I closed my eyes for a split second, remembering another time when the same scene had played out. Same people. Same dry, hot, typical summer day.
     
    I placed the final item from my shopping trip into my trunk, a heavy 24-pack of bottled water. It was Memorial Day weekend and the only supermarket in town had been unusually busy. It had taken me almost two hours to get everything, wait in line, and unload it all into the trunk of my car. I paused to take a hair tie off my wrist and pull my long brown hair into a ponytail. When I turned around to return my shopping cart, I ran smack into a hard body. Coming face to face with my boyfriend Marcus, I instinctually flinched; at the same time plastering a smile on my face and taking a step back.
    "Oh God, Marcus," I apologized. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."
    Marcus was staring at me, his eyes cold and unyielding. My stomach dropped when I realized he was in one of his moods. The kind that no matter what I did or didn't do, it wouldn't be enough. I swallowed hard when he grabbed my upper arm, his fingers just tight enough to cause discomfort. He was gritting his teeth. A sure sign I had ticked him off somehow; and for the life of me, I didn't know what I had done.
    "Where the hell have you been all day?" he asked gruffly.
    I shook my head at him, scrunching my face in confusion. "It's only eleven. I've been running errands for my grandmother all morning."
    He looked at my hot pink sundress in disgust. "In that? Don't you have any pride? Or maybe you want the attention?" he accused.
    I didn't even bother arguing with him. It wouldn't do any good. The outfit I was wearing had seemed acceptable when I left home that morning, but now I wondered if it was skimpier than I’d originally thought.
    "I've got a jacket in the car. I'll put it on, okay?" I assured him, even though it was hot as hades outside. I really wished he would let go of my arm. I didn't feel like having to worry about covering up bruises again.
    Marcus just shook his head. "Your grandma said you left at eight o'clock this morning to come here. I checked the parking lot at nine and you still weren't here. Who were you with?"
    I looked at him incredulously. "Seriously, Marcus. I've been at the bank, post office, and putting gas in my car. You know how people are around here," I reminded him. "You can't go anywhere without being pulled into conversation. I chatted with the clerk at the bank for a good fifteen minutes, and Mr. Henry at the post office another ten." God, I hated having to explain every little thing like this.
    "Yeah, I'm sure Mr. Henry loved talking to you half dressed like you are. I don't know why I put up with this shit from you Mara."
    Before I could prepare myself, he tightened his hold on my arm, and then used it to shove me away from him with such force I slammed into the back of my car. A sharp, shooting pain reverberated through my hip where I took the brunt of the impact. I let out a whimper, instinctively grabbing my hip and cringing away from him.
    After a couple of seconds, I realized he had left, and my eyes darted to where he was climbing into his truck. He thrust it in reverse and peeled out onto the road, squealing tires as he pulled off.
    I let out a deep breath, relieved it was over... for now. Tonight he’d act like nothing had happened.
    I closed my trunk, biting back a moan as a dull throb took up residence in my left hip. Tears stung my eyes, but I dared not shed any. My grandma would know if I had been crying, and it was going to be hard enough to come up with an excuse for why I was limping