Chapter 13
Dionne Henry
Lose Control
I was angry at myself for not checking the weather because if I knew that it was predicted to be this bad tonight, I would have told my realtor that we could meet sometime tomorrow morning.
I hated having to drive in this kind of weather, and because I was scared, I had gospel music playing, and that’s what was getting me through this.
My meeting with the realtor had gone great though.
I was finally able to snag a warehouse for my inventory.
The goal was to take myself out tonight, sit at a nice bar, have a cute drink, probably order some food, and then go home, but with this weather, the only thing that I was getting ready to do was head home.
I was coming from Fort Lauderdale, driving back home to Miami, and there was about twenty minutes left into my route.
I released a sigh, and just as I was about to complain again, saying how I wished that I’d never come out tonight, I heard a loud, popping noise come from my right tire.
Before I even had any time to react to what had just taken place, the steering wheel jerked super hard to the left, which pulled my car with it, having me scream.
“Oh, my Goodddd!” I screamed, panicking, not knowing what the hell was going on.
I swear it felt like my heart had leaped into my damn throat.
I was holding onto the steering wheel as tightly as I could, trying to gain control of it, keeping it steady, but it was steady trying to merge me over to the left side of the road.
There were cars around me, blowing their horns, and it’s almost like I was waiting for that moment where cars were going to collide into me.
My tired skidded over the pavement, as I was laying down with my foot on the breaks, trying to stop the car from moving. It felt like I was thrown over into the shoulder lane eventually, my hands were shaking, pulse racing, as what the hell just finished happening flooded my mind.
Because I didn’t want this car to spin out of control all over again, I shut the car off.
In the middle of the rain, I opened the door because I wanted to look and see the condition of my car.
I looked at the driver’s side tire, and it was completely blown off.
I ran back into the car, my body soaking wet, and I screamed, not knowing what the hell to do.
I didn’t know if I should call Triple A, or what.
Tank appeared in my mind also. I remembered the night that I had with him at the lounge that night, and he told me how much of a mainly man that he was, and how he knew how to work on cars.
I was so freaked out, scared that I was on the side of the highway like this in the middle of this weather, so I rushed to call him, putting the phone on speaker.
My hands were shaking the entire time, as I waited for the call to connect.
“What’s up beautiful?” he asked the second the call connected.
“Hi. Are you busy?” I asked him.
“I’m at my mama crib, chilling with her. What’s up? You, okay?” he questioned, and you could hear the worry in his voice.
“Okay. I don’t want to pull you away from your mom then. Let me just call Triple A,” I said, about to hang up because I was scared being on the side of the road like this, and I wanted someone to come, and get me.
“You got a nigga on the phone, and you talking about calling Triple A. Watch out with that. What’s wrong? What happened to your car?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. I was driving. It’s raining.
I heard the tire pop, and then I lost control of the wheel.
I don’t know. I got out the car to see what was wrong, and my whole right tire was off.
I’m on the highway, pulled over on the side, and I’m scared.
It’s pouring down raining,” I was all over the place, panicking, about to freak myself out more than I already was.
“I’m about to come get you. You got a spare tire in your trunk?” he asked me.
“Tank, I don’t know. I’m a girl. I’m just a fuckin girl, Tank!” I was damn near on the verge of tears. When I said that, he laughed like the shit was funny.
“Dionne, calm down. I’m not asking you to get out the car and see if you have a spare. I’ll look when I get there. Stay in the car. Ima put the spare on when I get there. You have on your hazard lights?” he asked.
“No. I shut the car off. I’m scared to turn the car back on because I don’t want it to spin like that again,” I told him.
“Turn the car on and put your hazards on. It’s dark, and it’s raining out. You need people to see that your car is pulled over on the side of the road. Where you at?” he asked me.
“On the highway. Tank, I don’t know,” I was so shaken up. Literally, as I was talking to him, my entire body was shaking.
“Share your location with me,” he demanded, and with shaky fingers, I went ahead, and maneuvered my way through the phone, and I started sharing my location with him.
“I’m fifteen minutes away from you. I’m about to leave now. You turned the car on yet?” he asked.
“It’s on,” was all I said.
“Aight, I’m on the way,” he let me know.
“Okay, but don’t hang the phone up. Stay on the phone with me,” I whined, and he laughed.
“I’m not hanging up beautiful. I’m just letting you know that I’m on the way,” he responded.
I heard him saying bye to his mom, and how he had to come get me out of the rain, telling her that something happened to my car.
I could hear her telling him to drive safely in this weather, and for him to tell me that she said hi.
I had the phone sitting on the middle console, keeping it on speaker, as I was leaned back into the chair, praying to God that this car didn’t magically start up, and start spinning in the road again.
That had really shaken me up, and as you can see, I still hadn’t calmed down from it yet.
“Daddy coming. Ay, you made a nigga happy tonight. I just told you the other day to take advantage of the nigga that you got in front of you. Why the fuck would you call Triple A, when I can come out there, and fix all your problems for you?” he asked me. I didn’t respond.
I was still too shaken up to do so. I could tell that he was outside because I heard the rain coming down in his background. It wasn’t long before I heard the loud engine of his car, so I knew that he was inside now, and he was driving.
“When the last time you changed your tires?” he asked me,
“I just got this car last year. I don’t think I need new tires yet,” I replied.
“You hit something recently? Like a pothole or something?” he wanted to know. I thought back, trying to see when the last time was that I’d hit something, and I remembered yesterday evening, when I was coming from my Pilates class, that I did run over a pothole.
“Yesterday. I hit a pothole yesterday,” I told him.
“That probably did damage to your tire’s sidewall, and the shit gave out on you on the highway. You gotta have a spare in your trunk. Ima just change it,” he let me know.
The whole time we were on the phone, he assured me that everything was going to be okay.
I’m not going to lie, his words did help to calm me down because if he wasn’t talking me through this, I’m sure that I would have gone crazy a long time ago.
Tank was trying to take my focus off what just finished happening because he changed the conversation, asking me how my day had gone, and wanting to know where I had been coming from.
I answered all his questions to the best of my ability, but it wasn’t helping because I was still thinking about the way my car had spun in the road.
I could still hear my screams. I thought that I was going to die.
I thought a bunch of cars were going to come crashing into me, killing me on impact, and that’s what I couldn’t seem to calm down from.
“This me pulling up behind you, so don’t freak out.
Ima hang the phone up because I gotta get something from the trunk of my car, so that I can lift your car a little bit and change the tire.
Ima knock on your window when I need you to open the trunk,” he let me know.
I assured him that it was fine, and then I hung up the phone.
I looked out of the rearview mirror, seeing Tank pulled up in his Aston Martin truck behind me.
He turned his hazard lights on, and the rain was so bad that I could hardly make him out when he got out of the car.
Although it was blurry, I did see when he went around his car, and moments later, he was knocking on my window, just like he said he would.
I felt so bad that he was out in the pouring rain doing this for me, so I rolled my window down a little bit.
“Tank, I feel bad. Why don’t we just call someone to tow it?” I asked him, and he looked at me like I was crazy. He was dressed in a black, Nike sweat suit, and the hoodie was over his head, and the string was tied below at his neck.
“Feel bad for what? This what I’m supposed to do. Pop the trunk, and roll the window up, so that you don’t get wet,” he let me know.
I popped the trunk for him, using the button that was on the side of my door. He walked away, went in the back, and I could hear him moving stuff around.
“You have a spare. Ima put it on,” he let me know, and then he closed the trunk.
Seconds later, I could see him walking back over to the side of my car, and it wasn’t long before I felt the car lift a little bit.
I was looking down at him as he was changing the tire, and I don’t know what it was, but something about a man doing manly shit that just had my juices flowing.
The rain didn’t faze him. It was nasty out here, and not once did he complain about it.
It took him under ten minutes to do what he needed to do with the tire, and then I felt the car lower back into its original position. That’s when he knocked on the window again. His face was soaked from the rain, and so was his clothes.