Jus Accardo - Ruined

“Did—did you just refer to yourself as a carrot?”

“I think the better question would be, did I just refer to you as a starving horse…”

Biting her bottom lip, she held her breath as the red waves of anger intensified. I made a fist, digging my nails deep until I felt the skin of my palm break. The subtle stinging gave me something else to focus on besides the increasingly sweet taste in my mouth. I could take a bite, taste the anger without doing her any real harm, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop. The only rule I had was no feeding off people I knew. Any kind of emotional connection always fucked things up. There was too much of a possibility of losing control. Letting the demon rise too close to the surface was risky.

Sam kept her eyes on the road, and it was obvious she was trying not to engage in confrontation. Unfortunately, the harder she tried, the sexier she looked. It made her lingering anger more intoxicating, and the demon struggled for control. I held my breath, depriving the thing of the scent of her fury.

She cut the wheel to the left, turning onto Beekman Avenue. “So why did you come back?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” I turned away as more of the crimson dissipated. I’d gone to see her—in secret, and from a distance, of course—just last month. She’d had a few problems, but I hadn’t known she left college. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

When she didn’t respond, I forced myself to look at her again. The anger was gone, the waves of red replaced now by a smoky swirl of gray. Fear. “Sammy?”

It was like the arctic had settled across her face. “School didn’t work out. I’ve moved on. End of story.” And that was all she said. After a moment, some of the tension left her body, along with the rush of gray, and she sighed. “And you’re back because…?”

I wanted to know what happened with school, but it was a bad idea. Getting involved in her life—even the smallest bit—would only give her the wrong idea. Plus, it would make leaving again that much harder. You didn’t hand an ex-junkie a needle without expecting a relapse. That’s what this girl was to me. An addiction I’d been trying for years to kick. No. Better to stick with the plan. Keep it casual and cool. Act like a dick. I’d do what I needed to do in town, and then get the hell out. “Would you believe nostalgia?”

Sam’s brows rose. “Nostalgia? For what, kicking the crap out of your brother?”

“Someone’s funnier than I remember,” I said. “Are you going to tell me to stay away from your man?”

“How about I just ask you to crawl back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in for the last three years?”

The words stung even though I could see the conflicting swirls of color dancing around her head. Anger, hurt, and something else. Something that said underneath it all, she was glad to see me. Hopeful, even. And as much as it ripped away another small piece of my soul, I couldn’t have that. Samantha Merrick needed to hate me. “I won’t be here long. There’s nothing worth staying for.”

The words tasted bitter, but they did the trick. Her colors turned deep crimson again, and she squared her shoulders and shrugged. “Then I guess it really is my lucky day, eh?”

“Seems like it.” I focused on the dark spot on the dash again. Coffee. I could smell it. Another perk of the demon. My nose was better than a border collie’s. All my senses were enhanced. I could hear a whistle from three blocks away. Feel the minute fibers in a single piece of paper. Even see the delicate veins in the wings of a fly.

I turned away and watched the town pass in a blur of green and brown from the passenger-side window. Things hadn’t changed. Most small towns didn’t. I’d always hated that about Harlow. The landscape. The people. All so narrow and static.

Sam took the corner of Mercer Avenue and hung a hard right onto River. The street sloped at a sharp slant and ended in a thin guardrail that ran alongside the river. I’d always hated this road, and being in Sam’s passenger seat only amplified that because of her aversion to the brake pedal. “You might wanna slow down, Sammy.”

“No one likes a side seat driver.” She jabbed a finger at me.

Her nails were gnawed to the quick and unpolished. Another thing that hadn’t changed.

“And no one calls me Sammy anymore. You’d know that if you hadn’t fallen off the edge of the planet.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I snapped, leaning back in the seat. I should have known we wouldn’t get through the ten-minute drive without her bringing that up. It was 100 percent justified, but I couldn’t let her know that. I’d practically kissed her clothes clean off, then disappeared without a word the next day. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, either.” She thought I meant the car ride. The truth was, I should have never come back to town. The urge to return had been building slowly, but when I found out that my Uncle Rick, the man who’d raised me, was terminally ill, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I needed to say good-bye.

Sam wasn’t supposed to be here. Neither was Chase, who was scheduled to visit a friend in Jersey. Wrong on both counts. Two strikes. One more and it was game over for someone. I planned to see my uncle, then make a run for the city limits like someone had lit my ass on fire.

“I was serious though,” I said, inclining my head toward the road. The car barreled toward the river and showed no signs of stopping. “Feel free to slow down.”

Her foot pushed the brake as each of her fingers turned white, wrapping tight around the wheel. The car didn’t slow.

“Any time now…” I prodded, gripping the “oh shit” handle above the door. The demon shifted, sensing distress. There was never any privacy. It was like I lived in a house with glass walls. Every thought—every emotion—was on display for perverse entertainment of the monster inside.

The car picked up speed as it slipped past the final hill and closed in on the last few feet before the railing. Thick gray mist filled the car. “I’d love to…” she spat, violently stomping the pedal now. Thunk thunk, thunk. The sound echoed through the small space.

“It’s not working?”

“Of course it’s working. I think I’d rather just drive over the edge!” She smacked the wheel and smashed her foot down once more, throwing all her weight behind it. It didn’t do any good.

Time was up, and we were out of road. “We’re not going to stop. Open your window!” I slammed a hand against the dash to brace myself, then started pushing furiously on the window button with the other. Like the brakes, nothing happened. “Fuck. Why isn’t it working, Sammy?”

“They’re broken,” she yelled in a panic, yanking up on the buckle of her seat belt. “College dropout. Piece of crap car!”

A growl rose in my throat. “Why the hell would you not get that fixed?”

Sam ignored me, fingers fumbling with the belt release button, jabbing randomly until it clicked free. She cursed and reached for the door, but it was too late. The car crashed through the guardrail in an explosion of twisted metal and clamorous sound as it careened off the road.

For a minute we were weightless. Suspended in midair like spiders from a string. Sam had unbuckled her safety belt, and her body lifted from the seat like a rag doll. I threw my arm across, pinning her down to keep her from smashing forward into the windshield.

“Hold on,” I grunted, bracing us both. We jerked forward on impact, the car slamming into the water with a deafening crash.

Sam pulled up on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. The pressure of the water had us trapped already. “We’re stuck!”