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Part 17
TASHA I reached the car but it wouldn’t open. Of course, he had the key. My eyes glared in his direction. I was more annoyed to see that I was out of breath because I was running as fast as I could— that I thought—since I didn’t want him catching up with me, but looking at him, he only dominantly followed me with his long strides. I hate his long legs! I did not spare him another glance when he got to where I stood. I was still foaming at the mouth and especially hurt. I roughly slammed my palm against the window shield and cringed at the pain it sent to my hand, but I just balled it and hit the lower body of the car with my right foot, kicking it, but it didn’t make any slightest movement. I hate you. Why wouldn't you open-? “Stop that. You’ll only hurt yourself,” he said. His vo
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