Screw that.
I don’t want to hear a damn thing he has to stay. Instead, I save face and run, leaving my shirt behind.
Blondie yells, and when I hear skin on skin, I give her a mental high-five because there’s no doubt in my mind that she just slapped the bastard.
You go, girl.
I grab my bag from the couch and skid to a stop in the kitchen. I reach for the phone in my back pocket and pause. If I call Bo, I’ll have to wait for him to drive back, and I refuse to stay here for another second.
“Nora!” Todd calls.
I can hear Blondie screaming, and in a split-second decision, I grab a set of keys off the key rack by the back door and run to his five-car garage. I hit unlock on the key fob, and when I see the lights on his BMW flash, I head straight for it.
I’m in the front seat with the garage open when my eyes land on a baseball bat by the back door.
Don’t do it.
Damn it, Nora, don’t do it.
Visions of Blondie’s smile and perky tits flash through my head, along with all of the time Todd and I have spent together—all the empty promises and whispered words.
Impulse outweighs logic as I slide out of the car, grab the bat, and bust out the headlights on his precious Porsche.
Todd barrels into the garage as I raise the bat to take out the taillights.
“Stop,” he yells, holding up his hands. “Please, stop.”
“You cheated on me.” I laugh maniacally. “You cheated on me, Todd. Is that why you never wanted to have sex?”
Jesus, I can’t believe I even asked that question. I’m grateful I didn’t give it up to this asshole.
I shake my head. “Never mind. It doesn’t even matter, just like you don’t matter.” I smack the back of the car and watch shards of fiberglass fly across the floor. God, that felt good.
“I’m sorry,” he shouts. “I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing when you brought her here.” I take another swing, and Todd makes a strangled noise.
“I meant I didn’t mean for our relationship to go on as long as it did,” he says in a rush, causing me to stop mid-swing. “They wanted me to date you for a few months. They said it would be good publicity for both of us, but we were having fun, and I actually—”
My blood runs cold. I drop the bat. It clatters against the concrete floor. “Who said that?”
“Everyone.” Todd’s eyes find mine. “My manager. Your manager. Everyone. Jesus, Nora, you fucking tore up my car.”
Damn it. How much of my life has Becky been orchestrating? And how could I have been so stupid? He acted like he liked me. All the nights we spent together, talking about life and our future, flash through my head. I know he felt it—I know he did. But I shake the thought away, because it doesn’t matter. None of it was real.
My whole life lately has been nothing but a giant sham. I don’t know what to think, or how to feel. I just know I have to get out of here and figure th
is shit out.
“You deserve that,” I say, pointing to his Porsche. With an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, I climb into his BMW. “I hope you and Blondie have a nice life.”
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he shouts.
I don’t have anywhere to go. My parents are on a yacht in Spain, and I haven’t talked to my so-called best friend in three months. I’m seconds from bursting into tears when Nick’s face pops into my head.
“I’m going home.”
“You can’t take my car,” he yells, racing after me as I start it up and throw it in reverse.