Page 4 of Redemption
I shouldn’t have made the bet. I should have uncuffed her, finished changing the tire, and sent her on her way, but that would have been contrary to who we’ve always been to one another.
We are jagged pieces of broken glass, digging deeper into the wounds we’ve created. My reaction was not something I could control—not with her.
It’s been six years since we’ve talked. We are strangers now. She made sure of that, but even now, sparks ignite in the air when I look up again and find her staring back at me.
She glares at me—declaring war with just one look. Gray eyes against blue—fighting for the victory of dominance. My heartbeat picks up—maybe I’m having a heart attack.
The silence thrums around us. I should get back to the station—put us both out of our misery, but the throbbing in my nose is causing my brain to short-circuit.
The cruiser begins to slow when I lift my foot off the pedal.
She’s giving me a heart attack, so it won’t hurt her to sweat a little bit.
“Why are we slowing down, Hayes?”
“Speed-limit change,” I say, lifting one finger off the wheel and pointing ahead.
“Yeah—to forty-five. We are going fifteen miles per hour. What are you playing at?”
There’s irritation in her voice, and a sadistic part of me likes it. If I were a betting man, I’d gamble it all on the chance that if I were to turn around, MJ’s face would be flushed from trying to keep that temper of hers reigned in, her teeth digging into the plushness of her bottom lip.
In five, four, three, two—nope, can’t do it. My knuckles tighten on the steering wheel as I stare straight ahead. One glimpse of her like that will bring me to my knees, and I can’t afford that—not with her.
I slow the car a little more, torturing her by ignoring her question and myself with the idea of how beautiful she looks.
I’m propelling this situation further into the abyss—driving it right off a cliff, but it’s like watching a car crash. I can see it coming, but I’m powerless to stop it.
A car passes me on my left, and I recognize Mrs. Jones, the town’s biggest busybody.
And now—that metaphorical car is on fire.
The news that I have MJ in the back of my cruiser will be all over town in a matter of seconds. Someone needs to take social media from the elderly women in our town. They are menaces to our society.
Choosing to embrace the chaos, I flip on the radio and whistle along.
MJ takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Under her breath, I hear her start to count. “One. Two. Three. Four.”
I know better than to ask. The thing to do is to ignore her—she’s goading me, but when she reaches fifty, my curiosity wins.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Counting the ways I can strangle you,” she says blankly.
I flick her a smile through the mirror and slow the car to the point that snails are probably passing us.
“MJ,” I say. “It’s such a beautiful day. The sun is bright—and listen, do you hear the birds chirping? People never slow down and enjoy the moment. I think this is one I should enjoy.”
My smile turns sinister. Heat floods her cheeks, matching the color of her auburn hair. A sneer tips up one side of her lips and wrinkles her nose. There’s fire in the icy blue of her eyes, but thething with MJ is, I’ve always willingly thrown myself into the fire—letting the flames burn out the guilt of bad decisions.
As I drive to the police station, I realize I’m still a glutton for punishment, falling into the same traps that led to heartbreak for both of us.
“Hayes, just get to the station so you can start apologizing.”
______________________
Fifteen minutes later, we are pulling into the station, and if looks could kill, I would have been dead ten minutes ago.
It’s a five-minute drive from where MJ’s car sits on the side of the road to the station—pretty much anywhere you want to go in town is a five-minute drive. It took some effort to stretch out the drive. I had to take every back road in the county. Dust covers every square inch of my squad car now, but the way heat flames into MJ’s cheeks is sweet, sweet payback for my nose.
