Page 12 of Comeback
“Maybe. I hope you’re right.”
“Good thing you had that ring protecting you from him, hm?” Nicole teased.
“Sure.” I laughed, admiring my ring again. But my laugh tapered off into a sigh. “Seriously, though, what a waste. He’s so cute.”
“Yeah,” Nicole agreed, “but a guy that good-looking? They’re always the worst, because they know they don’thaveto settle down. I mean, is it any surprise? He’s too hot for his own good.”
“True,” I said, shaking my head. “You know who was a perfect example of that? Trevor, when I met him—when he was all jacked from the Army training.”
Nicole looked at me like I was nuts.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Trevor wasneverhot, Ems. God. I swear, you’d think that guy was a male model based on the amount of bullshit you let him get away with … but every time I saw him, all I could think was ‘ew,sewer monster.’ ”
“Sewer monster.” I laughed out loud. “Whatever. I’m done defending him, obviously. After the hell he caused me, he can rot for all I care.”
Nicole smiled at me. “I’m so glad you finally see the light.”
“Yeah … sorry,” I said sheepishly.
Nicole gave me a hug. “Hey, it’s all water under the bridge.”
Chapter 6
Jack
The sky was an eerie royal purple. I stood on the side of the road with Megan. We held hands, but something didn’t feel right. Our conversation wasn’t easy. She was keeping something from me, but I couldn’t remember what exactly it was.
“Why are you acting soweird?” I asked.
“I’mnotacting weird,” she said in a way that only made her seem even more weird. “Youare.”
Suddenly, the screech of skittering tires grabbed our attention. Our heads whipped around to see a BMW careening around the corner, engine roaring. The driver lost control, the rear end swinging out, tires futilely spinning, unable to grip the pavement. We were frozen with fear—the car was headed straight towards us. I shoved Megan out of the way, then I dove out of the car’s path at the last second, hitting the sidewalk with a gutturaloof.
I turned and watched helplessly as the BMW slammed head-on into a power pole. Two tons of steel wentcrunch.Hunks of plastic exploded into smithereens, glittering in the night air.
I looked around. “Megan?” I screamed. “Are you okay?”
She was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” I whispered, staggering to my knees. Smoke and steam rose from the wreckage, smelling of burnt oil and bitter antifreeze.
Slowly, I headed over to the crash. I had a sinking feeling in my gut as I approached. Iknewwho the driver was.
I pulled the door open.
Soupy.
He was in bad shape. He slowly turned to look at me, blood trickling down his temple. “Jack! Hey, bud. How are ya?”
“Soupy!” I cried, fumbling with my phone to call 911, but the damned thing didn’t work right—the numbers I dialed looked like hieroglyphics. In a panic, I tossed the useless thing over my shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay, man, just hang on,hang on!”
“Nah, I’m not,” Soupy chuckled, waving a mangled hand at me. “I’m already dead. You killed me.Remember?”
“No,” I said, frantically pulling at his body, trying to free him—but he was trapped in the wreckage, his legs pinned beneath the dash. “Don’t say that!”
“You killed me,” he repeated, silently laughing, blood gurgling from his mouth until his body went pale and limp.
