Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

She was talking about that boss of hers who tried to tell her
she couldn’t have everything she wanted. She wanted me, and
while we could fight for what we wanted, people couldn’t
always be won. Or, that was what she thought. She thought I
was embarrassed by her. That I didn’t want to take her out or
be with her during the light of day.
Her face cracked as she smoothed her skirt over her thighs,
and she folded her lips between her teeth to keep from crying,
but the tears spilled anyway.
I told you I was going to hurt you someday.
She pulled her house keys from her bag, and removed one
key from the ring, dropping it in the cupholder.
“Just keep it,” she said. “I like thinking you might come
back some day.”
And then she climbed out of the car and found her way
into the lit-up house, closing the door behind her.
I dropped my eyes, gripping the steering wheel and staring
at the key like it was a goddamn drug. I wanted it. I knew I
would use it.
I wanted to use it this second.
GGoddamn her.
I drove off, careful to keep my speed low and my lights
off, and as I turned onto the highway, I turned up the music,
kicked the car into third gear and then punched into fifth.
But then I blinked, shook my head, and immediately
swerved off to the side of the road, and skidded to a fucking
halt.
Damn her. Shit!
What the fuck?
What was she doing to me?
Where was my head?
I’d rolled through the past two years, watching her from a
distance, knowing that she would be my heroin and knowing