I stood there, shaking, rain dripping down my face and my clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. A burning heat flared in my chest as I glared at the black car. Nothing , not even the rain could quench it. My fingers curled into tight fists, nails digging into my palms as I tried to swallow the scream building in my throat.
The car slowed. Then it stopped.
For a brief, foolish second, hope flickered. Perhaps he would step out and apologize. Perhaps he'd see the state I was in and offer a hand. Maybe today would finally grant me one small mercy.
But no.
The man stepped out of the driver's side and headed straight for the small bus-stop shelter beside the motel. He didn't even glance in my direction. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and placed it between his lips. With a calm, steady hand, he lit it.
He acted as if I didn't exist, as if he hadn't just drenched me in filthy roadside water.
He pulled out his phone and continued a conversation in a lazy, deep tone, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His posture was relaxed, even arrogant. Beside him stood a taller man — a bodyguard — holding a large black umbrella over his head to make sure not a single drop of rain touched his expensive suit.
That was what finally broke me.
Seeing him standing under a roof , still sheltered by an umbrella while I stood there drenched, hair plastered to my face and uniform ruined, was too much. He didn't look guilty. He didn't even seem to care. He looked completely unbothered. He knew exactly what he had done. No one splashes someone that badly and doesn't notice. He was simply choosing to ignore me because I was nobody.
I swallowed hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. I was done. I wasn't going to let anyone walk all over me while I stood silent. I had already lost my home, my family, and my dignity. I was not about to lose the last bit of my spirit.
I bent quickly and yanked off one of my wet shoes, hands shaking with frustration. Before reason could stop me, I hurled it with all my strength toward the car.
"Stupid car," I muttered through gritted teeth.
My shoe hit the side panel with a dull thud but it wasn't enough. I crouched and grabbed a jagged stone from the pavement's edge, swung my arm back, and flung it.
I only meant to hit the car's body. I never imagined my aim would be so precise or my throw so strong. The stone flew through the air and smashed into the rear-view mirror.
A loud, sharp crack split the air. The mirror shattered, shards of glass raining onto the asphalt.
My heart stopped.
"Oh no," I whispered, eyes widening.
The man and his bodyguard turned simultaneously. Even from a distance, he looked dangerous: sharp, predatory features and an unnerving confidence. He seemed like the kind of man who didn't understand the word "accident." The bodyguard froze for a split second, then both of them strode purposefully back toward the car.
Panic flooded me, turning my blood to ice.
"No, no, no," I breathed, taking a shaky step back. "Please go back. Please just go back to your phone."
I knew if I stayed, I'd be in more trouble than I could handle. I turned on my heel and tried to walk away as fast as my bruised, sore body would allow. I tried to melt into the shadows of the motel wall, but it was too late.
He had seen it.
"What the hell?" he shouted.
Stepping out from under the umbrella and ignoring the drizzle, he sprinted toward the vehicle. His bodyguard hurried after him, still trying to keep him dry.
"Sir, it's still raining," the bodyguard protested, voice strained as he maneuvered the umbrella.
"Fuck!" the man screamed. His voice boomed down the empty street. He stood over the shattered glass, face contorting with rage. "What happened to my car? Who did this? Who the hell did this?"
He spun and grabbed the bodyguard by the shoulder, eyes wild. "Taurus!" he snapped. "Did you hit this car? Was it like this when you parked it?"
I slowed my steps, heart pounding so hard I felt dizzy. My head stayed down as I tried to keep moving, but fear rooted me to the spot. Desperate, I pretended to be busy adjusting my uniform or scanning the ground , anything to avoid their gaze.