The Drive Home
Published by Vallory Vance at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Vallory Vance
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The rain drenched the car’s windows in a steady torrent broken only by the occasional glare of the headlamps’ beams reflecting into the darkness. Tamara gripped the door handle and pushed her imaginary brake down into the floor as the car bumped along the poorly patched road. The car swung dangerously close to a guard rail; she screamed.
Cyril swiftly regained control and slowed the car to a stop alongside the road. He banged the steering wheel with his fists. “We can go back.”
“Just wait until it stops”, she sighed heavily and dropped her head into her hand. She had no desire to return to his coworker’s mountain retreat.
Tamara had long suspected that the junior attorney in Cyril’s office had more than a professional interest in him. The two of them spent nine to ten hours a day together either preparing for a case or arguing one in court. And yet the woman could find a reason to call him almost nightly.
She glanced over at him. “Turn on the hazard lights.”
“I know that”, he snapped. He smashed the offending button down with his thumb.
For a moment, a flash of lightening illuminated him against the window. His jaw was clenched shut, accentuating the strong angular line of his face. His dampened black hair hung over his more cream than coffee complexion in small waves. She fought the urge to smooth down the errant locks and rolled her eyes away.
“I think you know you overreacted back there.”
What the fuck are you doing? Perhaps not the most eloquent phrasing, but her point had been made. “And what would you have said if you walked into a room and found some guy’s hand on my ass?” She cut her eyes in his direction.