The Collision on Hardwood Drive (13 page)

I rolled my eyes affectionately. I had no idea people actually
used
maxims like that until I met Claire. I didn’t point out her rather eccentric choice of idiom, though, and simply said, “All right, all
right
—he’s incredible. I should have called him right away, just as you said.”

“I knew it!” she said, crowing in victory. “So, I assume you experience
d
everything
he had to offer.”

“More than once,” I whispered gleefully. “Claire—no wonder people have sex addictions. It was
mind
-blowing.”

“I
told
you Michael was a poor representation of what beautiful men could bring to the bedroom. A man with that kind of swagger and confidence
usually
brings a hell of a lot of fun to a girl’s evening,” she said.

I giggled and nodded agreeably. If anyone would know, Claire would. I had stopped keeping track of all the men she conquered years ago. In fact, I was sure
she
had too.

“Good riddance to your boring sex life!” she finished triumphantly.

“Thanks,” I said with mock sarcasm lacing my tone and a happy grin gracing my lips. “I had no idea my boring sex life had been that big a problem for you.”

She laughed. “Your pain is my pain, honey. What made you change your mind, anyway?”
I had been thinking about that question almost endlessly over the past few days.

“Well, for one thing,” I started, “there was that whole Joe thing. Just
as you said, I really
do
want a man who will stand up for me—who knows what he wants. Plus, I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. I thought I owed it to myself to see whether there was anything there, you know. I don’t want to get hurt again, but… I don’t want to end up alone and bitter, either.”

“Like me, you know?” Clair asked, grinning.

“Shut up!” I laughed and swatted at her arm. “If anything, I realized I should be
more
like you. You know, willing to take chances and all that.”

“Steph, I’m flattered—really,” she said, batting her eyelashes sweetly. “So, where to for dinner? You can fill me in on the specifics in
public
.”

I rolled my eyes. I had no doubt she would drag it out of me right as our waiter approached our table.

We finally decided on a new restaurant on the other side of town. As we wove through the city, I realized that we were in the neighborhood where I had crashed into Rob.

“Stop,” I said, peering through the window. “This is where the accident happened. Apparently, I blew right through the stop sign.”

Claire shook her head when I motioned to the corner ahead. “You are the only person to have
ever
hit a Bentley and walk away clean. Instead of a lawsuit, you get a sexy new man in your life—lucky little bitch.”

Her grin quickly fell away from her lips as she passed through the intersection, slowing to look out the window as well. “Wait—are you sure it was this corner?
Hardwood, right?”

I looked again and nodded. “Positive. Why?”

She looked around for a few more seconds before looking back to me, confusion written all over her face. “Well, where’s the stop sign you ran?”

I looked from corner to corner and found that
I
couldn’t see it, either. “That’s weird,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Pull over. Let’s get out. It has to be here.”

Claire pulled the car to the side of the road obligingly, letting me out so
I could get a closer look at the sign I supposedly ran. We walked to the corner to look more closely, and sure enough, there was no stop sign.

“I had just assumed it was hidden behind these low-hanging branches,” I said, gesturing at the overgrown tree spilling into the sidewalk.
“It never occurred to me that there might not be a stop sign here,” I said quietly. “Why would he have said there
was
one? Did he hit
me
? Why would he have claimed it was the other way around? I mean, it’s not as if he tried to get out of paying for the damages on my car or anything—he did that, anyway.”

“Did you see a stop sign here on the night of the accident?” Claire asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It was dark, and I was really rattled, so—I
thought
I did.”

“O
K,” Claire said, stopping for a second as she paced around the corner. “Let’s think rationally about this. Why would it matter who hit whom if he paid for your car, anyway? Why would he want to blame you?”

“I have no idea,” I said, truly boggled. “There has to be a good explanation for it, right?”

“I assume so,” she said, shrugging after a moment. “Just ask him about it. Hear him out. Until then, let’s just focus on the
great
sex.”

I laughed. Claire always
knew how to make a girl feel better.

*

Claire dropped me off at my apartment after a delicious meal. I felt giddy after recounting all the juicy details of my time with Rob. My relationship with Claire usually consisted of
her
telling
me
about all the great sex she had been having. No wonder she was always so bubbly. I was floating on cloud nine when I walked in my apartment, a huge smile still tugging my lips upward.

I planned to spend the evening relaxing in a hot bath, relishing in the memory of the incredible time I’d had with
Rob. I filled the tub with steaming water and tipped in some bubbles. The smell of lilac burst in the room as I emptied a container of bath salts into the water.

As I dropped my shirt to the floor, I
heard a knock—more a loud banging, really—at my front door. I turned off the faucet, confused. I wasn’t expecting visitors.

My first thought was that it was
Rob—maybe he wanted to surprise me. I slipped into my sexiest robe and hurried to the door, excitement fueling my every step. But the banging increased in volume and urgency—at the same time, my excitement began to turn to apprehension. It almost sounded as if someone was trying to break down the door. Even if Rob
were
trying to surprise me, he wouldn’t be so impatient.

I approached the front door, more slowly now. “Who is it?” I asked, trying to peer through the peephole. I couldn’t see anything
, except a fist pounding against the wood, though, so hard that it shook the frame.

What the
fuck
? “Who is it?” I asked again, raising my voice to angrier and louder tones this time. “Stop pounding! I can hear you!”

“
Stephanie
!” a voice slurred loudly. “Le’ me in!”

It
definitely
wasn’t Rob. My heart began to race when I recognized that voice. I kept my eye pressed to the peephole and stopped breathing entirely when Michael’s face flooded my vision.

He looked completely shitfaced.
Fuck. Fuck,
fuck
. What was
he
doing here?

“Stephanie!” he shouted again. “I know you’re in there! I watched you go in!” He drove his fist into the door again, making me jump. “Open the goddamn door!”

He watched me come
home
? How long had he been waiting for me?

I felt my body begin to tremble. I knew he had a temper when he drank. Bracing myself for the worst, I took a deep breath. “Michael, please go away,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Let’s meet for dinner or something—some other day. I’m not feeling well tonight.”

“Baby,” he said, his voice soft and bleary from booze. “Baby, just open the door. I jus’ wanna talk to you.” Another stereotypical Michael trait, of course—hot and cold, all at once.

“
Yeah, last time you started a sentence with baby it was in our bedroom and it was addressed to a woman but that woman wasn’t me. Go knock on her door, loser.”

I jumped, fear coursing through my veins as Michael grabbed the doorknob and began to rattle it vigorously.

“
Stephanie
!” he shouted again, his voice growing darker and louder. “I
said
, open the
door
—bitch!”

Fuck, fuck,
fuck
. It occurred to me that he might really break down the door. Once, when we were together, we got into a huge fight down at the bar. He was convinced that I had been coming on to one of his friends—ironic, seeing how
he
was the one with the wandering eyes and dick. In a fit of rage, he’d punched a hole in our closet door. How had I
ever
dated this guy?

I ran back inside to grab my cell phone. Frantically, and without thinking, I dialed
Rob. He was the first person I could think of, and he answered on the first ring.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Where are you?” I asked, hissing the words into the phone. I tried to keep my voice low, not wanting Michael to hear, but I could barely keep from screaming. “Can you—can you come over? Michael’s here.”

“I’ll be there in less than five. Is he in your apartment?”

“No, no, he’s—he’s pounding on my front door. He won’t leave!”

“
Is he trying to break in?” Rob snarled. I could nearly feel the fury in his voice.

“
Not yet. The door’s locked, but he’s freaking out. I don’t know what the fuck he wants! He’s
drunk
.” I could sense myself starting to get hysterical.

Rob
lowered his voice and tried to speak calmly. “Steph, I need you to relax. I’m already on my way. I’m going to be there any minute now. I won’t let him hurt you—do you understand me?”

I hung up. Michael continued
to pound furiously at the door. I ran back to the door, checking the locks to make sure they were secure. “I’m warning you, Michael! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Not until you open this fucking
door
!” he screamed. He rattled the doorknob again, so hard that I thought I could see the door shake.

“I’m going to call the cops,” I said, hoping that threat would scare him off.

He started to laugh loudly and maniacally. “You wouldn’t do that,
bitch
.”

Minutes later
I heard a loud thump. I looked through the peephole and saw that Michael had been shoved against the wall. Rob was here. I never thought of Michael as
small
, but he seemed slight and bony next to Rob. He cowered, as though he were trying to shrink into the wall. Rob’s broad forearm was pressed up against Michael’s chest, probably constricting his air.

“
What
did you just call her?” he roared.

Michael looked shell-shocked. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You have
one
second to answer my question,” Rob growled.

“Nothing!
Nothing
!” Michael spat finally. “I just—just came—” He started to stutter—now,
that
I had never seen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here, huh?”
Rob asked.

“Oh, c’
mon
, man,” Michael said, nearly whining as he tried to regain some sense of composure. “I didn’t mean to
scare
her; I just wanted to talk to her.”

“
There’s nothing to talk about. She doesn’t want to see you, so you can fuck off.”

Michael scowled suddenly, not realizing
the position he was in. “And who the fuck are
you
?”

I cringed. Michael had always talked a big game, but he rarely had the courage to follow through. I saw
Rob grab Michael by the neck, slamming him into the wall again.

“Listen to me, asshole,” he growled, making Michael’s eyes widen in fear. “I’m the guy telling you to stay the fuck away from Stephanie.”

He tightened his grip on Michael, and I could swear I heard Michael start to whimper. He was such a pathetic mess.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to give you the chance to walk away from this, but if I do
, and I
ever
—and I mean
ever
—see you anywhere near Stephanie again, I will rip your fucking face off.”

Tears welled up in Michael’s eyes, from either the pain or the terror.
Defiant, he lowered his gaze and remained silent. Rob loosened his grip, but only slightly. “I’m outta here, man,” Michael said.

Rob
finally stepped back, still glaring daggers at Michael. He gave him a rough shove. “I meant what I said. If I ever even
hear
about you again…” He trailed off, letting Michael—and I—imagine the worst.

Michael
backed up slowly until he was out of arm’s reach. Then, he bolted down the hallway and headed for the elevator. His footsteps echoed as he dashed farther and farther away.