James Sinclair
I shouldn’t be mad, I repeated the thought as I sped away from Olivia’s house. The darkened streets of Glendive blurred past, the city lights flickering like stars. My foot pressed harder on the gas, and the car surged forward.
I knew I was going too fast—way too fast for the narrow streets, but I couldn’t bring myself to slow down. The needle on the speedometer crept higher, brushing against numbers that should have made me ease off, but I didn’t. The road ahead was a streak of black and silver as I cut through the city.
I shouldn’t be mad. It wasn’t her fault. That guy showing up like that. A coincidence, sure, but it still gnawed at me, twisting my insides into a knot I couldn’t untangle. The way she smiled when she saw him, the way her face lit up with that damn famil
