What the hell does that mean?
I glare at him, searching his face for any way to deescalate this total insanity.
“You really want the truth?” I whisper, racking my brain. “He says...he says you’re immature and self-centered.”
He tosses his head from side to side. “Fuck him. He always said that about her.”
“Her?” I echo dryly.
“He thought Aster was self-centered. But she wasn’t nearly as self-centered as he thinks. He was always too harsh on her, too serious when she just wanted to have fun. He didn’t fucking deserve her, and if he wasn’t Mr. Gold Dick, she’d have never married him in a billion years.”
I swallow again, another lump of fear scratching my throat.
It’s the first thing he’s said that sounds genuinely connected to someone else.
“You knew her well then?” I ask.
His eyes flick to the turtle again. “Never well enough. Don’t try to make it something it wasn’t.”
“I’m not trying to make it anything.”
“Whatever. Can’t say I like your tone or the way you’re looking at me like—oh, shit!” He jerks the wheel.
We’re sliding—right into the other lane with its oncoming traffic.
I brace for the bone-splitting impact that’s surely coming.
But Troy finds traction at the last second, wrenching us back into our lane.
I hold my breath. Shaking.
Maybe we’ll end up in a ditch, and if I’m lucky I can make a proper run for it.
But this stupid turtle is driving him crazy.
It’s going to get us both killed, so I pull the chain, reeling it in so I can drop it in my purse.
“Leave it out!” he screams.
I jump, nearly dropping the necklace on the floor.
“It seems like it’s bothering you.” I take a deep breath. “You know what, you can have it, if you want. I’ll leave it and let you decide what you want to do with it. Can you just let me out at the next gas station? Even a bus shelter or—anywhere, really? I can manage.”
His gaze snaps to me like he’s seriously considering it, his face set like stone.
“Troy...”
“If you give me that fucking curse before you get out of this car,” he whispers.
Oh my God.
I might live after all.
Still suspicious, I look at him and whisper, “Why does it mean so much to you?”
“Didn’t I tell you? We can’t let Destiny get that goddamn thing. She doesn’t need to be reminded of Aster again. She damn sure doesn’t need to go squawking to her old man, either.”
I sense the car speeding up as he glares into the rain.
Here we go again.
He has a death grip on the wheel, his hands pressed so tight his knuckles are bone-white.
“Troy, I’m in no hurry. You can slow down until we see the next gas station. It’s fine.”
“Not fine!” he roars. “Goddammit, don’t you understand?”
I really don’t.
So far, I haven’t understood much of this conversation at all. I just know I don’t want to set this guy off more.
“What don’t I understand, Troy?” I ask gently, holding back tears.
It’s weird how people talk to hurt animals and dangerous lunatics with the same soothing voice.
“I never meant to do it. I never meant for any of this shit to happen. And...and if I thought you could just disappear and keep your yap shut, I wouldn’t have more regrets.” His sigh sounds like a death rattle. “But you won’t, will you? You won’t just give me that piece of shit and get on with your life?”
“Whatever you want,” I whisper, gripping my thigh to keep my hand from shaking. “Troy, I—I don’t even know what you didn’t mean to do. I don’t need to know. You can drop me off and you’ll never have to think of me again.”
“Oh, fuck you, Eliza.” He’s straining to breathe, almost gasping, his huge shoulders rolling and his nostrils flared.
Holy shit.
“These goddamned things never stay buried,” he whispers. “They always surface—always!—just like that fucking sea turtle. After I tried so hard to get rid of it.”
I’m reeling.
What is he talking about?
When he looks at me again, his face is blood-red. He takes a hand off the wheel to point at my hand. “That thing. That miserable fucking thing. No matter what I do, it keeps coming back, and so does everything else—”
A loud, wet screech cuts him off.
Aaand we’re hydroplaning again.
I’m not even sure we’re on all four wheels this time.
I’m guaranteed to die tonight, I just don’t know how yet.
“Y-you can have the n-necklace, Troy,” I try, stumbling over my words. “I’ve already told you...”
“No. I’m cleaning house once and for all. Tonight, everything goes.”
“Like what? What goes?” My gut sinks.
Dread consumes me.
I’m afraid the biggest thing that’s going, going, gone is me.
While he drives on, no longer responding like he’s retreated fully into his own crazy brain, I text a group chat I have with my parents.
I love you.
Then I text Cole one last time. I hate how things ended, and I’m sorry. I don’t blame you anymore, though. You can’t help that we’re from two different worlds any more than I can. You had good reason to look into Aster again. I love you.