𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐎'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍

➪TWENTY NINE

"My goodness darling what were you thinking? I could have lost you" my mother says to me as she stands at the end of the hospital bed, her hand on her hip and that intense gaze in her eyes. She almost seems angry at me, but grateful that I'm okay. And if I was being quite honest, I was grateful as well. I've always heard about how things could happen in a split second but never did I think it would be me.

The accident wasn't my fault. Not at all. I came across a stop sign and like one does, I stopped and looked both ways before beginning to proceed forwards. Out of nowhere this man in an all black Benz crashes into the side of my car. Luckily it was on the passengers side, but it scared the living shit out of me. He didn't even stop at the sign, and even admitted to being on his phone during it. He says he looked up right when he was a few inches away from hitting me.

All I remember seeing was a straight clear road. My car spun around a bit before coming to a complete stop. Everything seemed like a blur to me, all the way up until I was here and hooked up to a few machines for testing. I remember getting inside of the ambulance and having my mother called, but having my blood drawn, which my mother said was done the moment I got here, it's a big blur to me.

"I thought you had someone that would drive you to and from work. Why were you even driving?" My mother asks, coming closer to the bed where she takes a seat and puts her arm around me. Her touch is warm and it immediately comforts me as I've been a bit nervous since I've gotten here. I hate hospitals.

And as she finishes her sentence I think about Nicco. I hadn't talked to him since storming out of his apartment earlier and I feel bad. No, I feel horrible. He had called me many times, trying to get in touch with me but I flat out ignored him. I guess part of me was still angry at him from this morning.

No, I'll admit. That is exactly why I ignored his calls before the crash. He made me so angry. I didn't like the fact that he laughed in my face when I told him about the marks he left on my skin. It's far different than the mark he left on my hip. No one would see that one, but my neck is such a exposed area. Everyone can see.

I wanted to let the argument go, which is what I planned to do but when he laughed it ticked me off. He doesn't much understand. He's a billionaire, he doesn't give a shit about what marks he has on his body. His arm and chest full of tattoos tells me that he doesn't, and the small tattoos on his fingers. He makes his own schedule, he can do whatever it is that he pleases. But not me. I am a regular girl with a job at the local book store helping kids and older people find what they're looking for. I just hate that he doesn't see it from my point of view.

And then he called me childish. I hated it. I didn't understand how I could be childish when he was the one that laughed in my face. It's my body, and my job that could be at risk for showing up with marks on my neck. I didn't wake up early enough to prepare—applying makeup to spots that I had no clue was even there.

I was shocked to see the many red marks on my neck. It was like he purposely did them.

All of those things ramble through my mind until I find the words to say to my mother. "I do, but Nicco and I got into a fight today" I say and she pulls away from me, standing up and putting her hand back onto her hip.

"Don't tell me that asshole took away your privilege to have someone drive you around? What kind of man does that? I'm going to fuck him up-"

"No, mom. He would never do that" I shake my head and watch as her brown eyes calm a bit. Jeez woman.

"Go on" she encourages me.

I let out a small sigh as I know she'll have trash to talk. "His driver, Hudson, drove me from his apartment. I asked him to take me home. I lied and said that I needed something for work and he took my word for it. He would have never taken me if I said that I wanted to drive my own car" I admit.