Fucking assholes, I grated in my head.
The window still had streaks when I was done, but most of it had come off. My scarf was a mess, though. I wadded it up and shoved in my purse. If it didn’t come clean in the wash I was going to be doubly pissed.
This was just not my day.
Nine
Cassie
“Rough day?” Grandmama asked when I walked in the door after work.
“You can tell?” I sighed.
“Grandmothers can always tell. Pull up a seat. I’ll put a pot on.” Tea was her magic solution for everything. I gave her the excuse of being tired and dealing with rude customers, and then escaped to my room after one cup. I changed into my sweatpants and cued up Netflix without any intention of getting out of bed the rest of the day.
Just before three, my phone rang and ruined my plans.
It surprised me to see Emily’s name on the screen. Usually a text sufficed between us.
“What’s up, Em?” I answered.
“Hey, can you do me a huge favor? Well not me so much as Nikolai.”
I snorted.
“Okay, not Nikolai. Can you do Eli a big favor?”
I sat up. “What does he need?”
“I’m supposed to pick Eli up from school and take him home and hang out with him until Nikolai gets off at four, but I just got a call from a client and there was a screw-up with one of my ad campaigns and this is my biggest client,” I could hear her going into panic mode.
“Em, what do you need me to do?”
“Can you go pick Eli up and watch him until his dad gets home? Nikolai already called the school and okayed it, you just need to be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation. “What school?”
“Columbia Elementary.” I knew it. It wasn’t far from Nikolai’s neighborhood. “And there’s a hide-a-key so you can get into the house. Eli knows where it’s at. Thank you so much for doing this. You’re a lifesaver.”
“It’s not a problem.”
We hung up and I threw on my Converse, not bothering to change out of my sweatpants and baggy tank top. I told Grandmama where I was going on my way out the door, and then hurried to make it to the school before the kids got out.
The school was a clusterfuck of parents and buses and kids, but I managed to retrieve an excited Eli and get out of there. We picked up old-fashioned milkshakes on the way to the house. It was a tradition I’d shared with my dad on the rare days he was home and was the one to pick me up from school. I remembered how special it was to have something that was just ours. With him being in the military and gone so much, that was our way of connecting. It lasted up until I hit high school and started walking to and from school with friends, and later driving myself. I wish we’d continued it, though. When you’re a teenager, you don’t think you’ll miss the things like that. So anxious to leave behind everything from childhood, in a hurry to be an adult. If I knew then what I did now, I might have fought a little harder to hang onto my childhood.
The same fifties style diner was still in business and that’s where I took Eli. Seeing the corner booth where Dad and I always sat evoked a sense of nostalgia. It felt good to think of better and simpler times after the day I’d had. Having been told to take Eli back to the house, we didn’t stay. We took our milkshakes to go.
“Want to play Battleship?” Eli asked once we were back at the house. “Dad taught me to play. I’m really good at it.”
We drank our milkshakes and played several games of Battleship. We were in the middle of one when we heard Nikolai’s truck in the driveway.
“Looks like your dad is home. I think we’ll have to finish this game next time.”
Eli greeted his dad eagerly at the door while I cleaned up the game and dumped our empty milkshake cups in the trash. When I returned from the kitchen, Eli was telling his dad about his day. Nikolai’s eyes flitted briefly to me.
“Sounds like you had a good day at school, bud, but I bet you haven’t done your after-school chore yet.”
“Oh!” Eli smacked his head and then darted right past me into the kitchen.
“Thank you for picking him up for me.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” I shrugged. “He had a snack.” If ice cream constituted as a snack. “And I made sure he put the spare key back after he let us in, but I know where it is, so if you want to move it . . .” I trailed off.
Nikolai nodded but didn’t say anything else.
“Then, umm, I’ll get going.”
“Everything okay with you today? Earlier—”
“It was nothing, just a rough day at work.”
“I had one of those too.”
“I think I’d win on the shitty day meter,” I told him.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he chuckled, and was that an actual smile? Okay, not quite a smile, but half of one.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to have a regular conversation with him at this point. Eli came back in and I told him goodbye then I got out of there before it got any weirder.
I made it about a mile from their house before something went wrong with my car. I was approaching an intersection, and the light changed to yellow. I let off the gas and eased the brake, but my car didn’t want to slow. I pressed harder, but nothing happened. I slammed the brake to the floor, but the car didn’t stop. The light was red now and traffic going the other way was beginning to move through the intersection. Panicking, I started stomping on the break, but I was traveling down a slight decline, and my car only picked up speed.
There was no one in front of me and I was almost to the intersection when it finally sank in that my car wasn’t going to stop. I laid on the horn, looking for some way out of the wreck I knew I was about to cause. There was nowhere to turn and nothing to crash my car into that wouldn’t hurt someone. As I careened into the intersection, I braced myself for the crunch of metal and jarring impact that followed as I collided with the back end of a pickup truck. The airbag exploded, and my seatbelt locked in the next instant, but not before one side of my face slammed into the bag. It felt like hitting a brick wall before I was jerked upright and slammed back into the headrest. The force knocked the air from my lungs and made it feel as if my entire chest was caving in. Glass shattered and sprayed around me. I squeezed my eyes shut until it was over.
My car lurched forward one more time and then rolled. Only then did I dare open my eyes. I blinked a few times to bring my eyes into focus. My head was spinning and my stomach rolling. I managed to bring my car over to the edge of the road on the other side of the intersection and then threw on the emergency break and shut it off. Thankfully, as I looked around, the truck was the only other vehicle in the intersection and the fallout from the collision was limited to our vehicles. The force of the impact had spun the truck around before it came to a stop in the middle of the intersection.
Heart pounding inside my chest, head throbbing, my body still tense, tears immediately flooded my face as I processed my shock and panic. I’d never been in an accident before, even a minor one. I had no idea what to do. I just sat there, my hands glued to the wheel, trying to breathe. Then I heard yelling, and in my side mirror, which now hung at a funny angle, I could see a man coming toward me. He was red in the face and screaming obscenities at my car. He must have been the driver of the truck. The truck was no longer in the middle of the intersection, though.
He was still several paces away when my phone went off. I had to pry my fingers from the wheel to grab it. I answered without even looking at the ID.
“Hello,” I choked through a sob.
Silence. And then, “Cassie?”
“Nikolai?” I sputtered, still struggling to catch my breath. At the same time, the angry driver of the truck reached my car and demanded for me to get out. My entire body was shaking, and I didn’t think I could stand, but I wrenched my door open and then his yells grew louder.
“What the fuck were you doing, you st
upid bitch? Were you on your goddamned phone? You could have killed someone?”
“Cassie, what the fuck is going on? Who is yelling?” Nikolai nearly shouted in my ear.
With both of them yelling, I started crying harder.
“Cassie,” Nikolai shouted again. “What is going on?”
“I was in an accident,” I managed to croak out.
“Where are you?” he asked calmly.
“I–I–I . . .” I couldn’t get my words out, and my brain couldn’t compute street names even though I knew where I was at. My eyes darted around the street and stopped on the little gas station and corner store. I managed to relay the name of it through the phone, although I wasn’t sure Nikolai could understand my warbled words. “The one by your house,” I finished.
“Stay put,” he said, and then the call ended. I stared at the phone in my hand, wishing he hadn’t hung up on me, because now I was left with only the angry man yelling at me to get out of the car. Other people on the street were starting to gather, and a few witnesses had pulled over and were getting out their cars as well even though traffic was moving again.
The man must have figured out that I was not getting out of my car, because he pulled out his phone and started talking to someone, then witnesses were walking over asking if everyone was okay. The man started snapping pictures with his phone next, and then I heard him tell someone that I’d been on my phone and that’s what caused the wreck.
That finally spurred me out of my car onto shaky legs. “I was not on my phone,” I tried to explain, but as soon as he realized I wasn’t hiding inside my car anymore, he got right in my face again. “I saw you on the phone. You ran a red-light lady! Were you paying attention at all?”
“I wasn’t–” I tried again, but he wouldn’t listen.
“I’ve already called it in to the cops and there were witnesses. You totaled my damn truck and probably fucked up my back and neck at the speed you were going. You’ll be lucky if I don’t sue your ass.” He was jabbing his finger in my face and I backed up against the side of my car. “You fucking moron. Can’t even fucking drive. You shouldn’t be on the road.” And then all the sudden he wasn’t in my face anymore and Nikolai was standing in front of me.
“Cassie,” he grabbed my chin and tipped it up to his face. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, blinking back more tears. “I think so.”
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” the truck driver started in angrily again. “This fucking moron was on her damned phone and ran a red light. Hit my truck, and could’ve killed someone.”
Nikolai’s brow pinched into a frown.
“That’s not what happened,” I stammered. “My brakes weren’t working. I tried to stop but I couldn’t. I laid on my horn because I didn’t know what else to do. There was nowhere for me to turn or go without hitting someone else.”
“I heard the horn,” someone else chimed in.
“I didn’t get on my phone until you called. You can check,” I told him.
The man I hit started grumbling, no doubt he still thought I was lying, but I didn’t care. Anyone could check my call history and text messages and see that I wasn’t on my phone.
“I promise,” I added, needing Nikolai to believe me.
“I know,” he said. “I believe you.”
“Well I fucking don’t. I want to see the bitch’s phone,” the man barked.
Nikolai turned on him so fast it startled even me. “Call her a bitch or yell at her again and you’re going to have bigger problems than your wrecked truck. You’re not helping the situation at all. So, back the hell off and calm the fuck down and we’ll sort this out.”
The man glared, but he did take a step back and shut up. Nikolai ducked his head inside my car and then metal groaned. He walked around to the front of the car and wrenched the smushed hood up. A minute later he walked back over, wiping his hands on his pants. “No brake fluid.”
I wanted to stick my tongue out at the driver of the truck and say I told you so, but I restrained myself. Instead I settled for giving him a smug look.
But then Nikolai spoke again. “It’s a mess under there so it’s hard to tell if the lines were damaged in the wreck, but when was the last time you checked it, Cassie?”
I looked back at him wide eyed. “I–uh, never.” I wasn’t sure I even knew how to check it. I didn’t know I was supposed to.
The truck driver snorted, and Nikolai sighed.
At that time, a police officer arrived on the scene.
“You again,” he said when he saw Nikolai.
“I’m not involved this time,” he told the police officer. “I know one of the drivers involved and I live nearby. Just came to help.”
This time I raised my brow at him.
“I told you it was a rough day at work.”
The officer then asked what happened. Right away, the driver of the truck, whose name turned out to be Bill Douglas, jumped in and gave his account. He insisted it was all my fault and made me out to be an incompetent moron who should have her license revoked. He actually said that.
When it was finally my turn to talk, I told the officer what had happened. He wrote up a report, but didn’t issue me a ticket or take me away to jail, much to the chagrin of Mr. Douglas. A mechanic was called to come take away both of our vehicles. Nikolai talked to him and he also took the initiative to trade my insurance information with Mr. Douglas’.
When it was all done, he told me to get anything I needed out of my car and then led me over to his truck and pulled the passenger door open. “Shit,” he muttered as I climbed in, and then he bolted back over to where my car was being hooked up to the tow truck. He said something to the tow truck driver and then got in the back seat of my car.
I hadn’t even bothered to look back there because I never kept anything in the back seat. I was confused why he was, until I saw him pull out a little black and yellow Batman backpack. He jogged over to the truck with it and then climbed in the driver’s seat.
“This is why I was calling you,” he said, tossing it in the back of the truck.
“Where is Eli?” I asked.
“Spencer came by the house to talk about the situation at work today. He’s there now with Eli.”
I nodded, and Nikolai pulled the truck onto the road. “You know, you’re pretty lucky. This could have ended a lot worse. You could have killed someone, or been more seriously hurt yourself.” I felt like a teenager being scolded by my father.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I said pitifully.
“Shit, Eli could have been in the car with you.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “But it wasn’t my fault.” I repeated. “It was an accident.”
“It’s basic car maintenance, Cassie,” he ground out.
“My car was in the shop last month for an oil change. I’m not an irresponsible idiot like you think. I take it in every three months, just like you’re supposed to, and they check all the fluids. If my brake fluid was low, isn’t that something they would have noticed? Can it get that low in just a month?”
I saw the frown in his profile. “It shouldn’t, unless you have a leak.”
“And how would I know if I had a leak?”
“There’d be fluid on the ground under your car.”
“Well, I haven’t noticed any, but I didn’t know I should be checking for a leak. I’ve never had brake problems, and last month they told me everything was fine.”
“Well, the mechanic who took your car will check it over for the final report and he should be able to tell what happened. Maybe.”
“Okay,” I muttered, and then the truck grew quiet. Too quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. “Still think you have a chance at beating me out for shittiest day?”
“I think you’ve got it in the bag now, but that was a hell of a way to make sure you won.”
I let out dry a laugh. “I’m not that competitive.”
He smirk
ed over at me, “You sure? You do like to be right.”
“That’s funny coming from you. So, what was the trouble you got into at work?”
“I might have roughed up a paparazzi jackass who crossed the line,” he grunted.
“Bald, skinny guy?”
He glanced over at me. “Yeah, how’d you know.”
“Guy’s a creep and an asshole. I hope you did more than give him a little bruise on the face this time.”
“How the hell do you know about me jacking the guy in the face the other night?”
“He was outside the shop today after you guys went in. Harassed me and only took off when I threatened to bring you out to deal with him. He seemed afraid of you and he was sporting that shiner. I connected the dots.”
“What was the creep harassing you about?”
I snorted. “Come on, Markov, I’m the girl who fucked a serial killer. He thought he had himself a story to sell to someone.”
He took his eyes off the road again for a second to frown at me. “People still give you shit over that?”
“To most of them, all I’ll ever be is the girlfriend of a serial killer. And don’t act like you don’t judge me for it either. I know you do. Everyone does.”
“Is that what the tears were about?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Cassie?”
“What!” I snapped. “Yes, okay, I was crying because that paparazzi asshole was a dick and then some lady at the bus stop told me I should just go kill myself.”
“What the fuck? Someone said that to you?”
“Yes. She was a bitch, but who can blame her? I’m the one who fucked up. I’m the one who didn’t know she was sleeping with a fucking psychopath. I’m the one who fell in love with the bastard. I’m the world’s biggest fool. Maybe if I wasn’t, he would have been caught sooner.” My voice trailed off and then the truck was quiet again.
We were back in Nikolai’s neighborhood and his house was in sight. When he pulled into the driveway, he threw the truck in park, but didn’t shut it off. Instead he turned sideways in his seat to face me.
Blackest Night Page 11