As the overpass loomed ahead, larger and larger, she smiled and wondered if people were built with an off-switch. Mama had said that, a long time ago. Somewhere in a past life almost buried in Jim Beam and uppers and meaningless sex. She said, we all have a switch, something, a word or a thought that pulls you out of the moment you’re in. It’s like a reset, child. God give it to you for when you get into trouble.
She was wrong though. No switch here. Just the growl of all these horses under the floorboard and the acrid smell of gasoline. Her eyes drifted to the abutment. A few more seconds, and at this speed there would be no question, no feeling, nothing left to come back from-
“Come for me,” he hissed. He was crushing her breasts with her thighs, driving painfully deep.
Part of her longed to be in that car inside her mind. It was a fantasy that cut her loose as she faked the first screams of yet another orgasm that didn’t exist.
Nothing to come back from. Nothing at all.