The Dwight Correctional Center because smaller and smaller in his rear view mirror and for a split second he wanted to turn his car around and return to the prison to rescue her from that hell. But who was he kidding? If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have even been there in the first place.
Anger surged through him and he slammed on the breaks, nearly hitting the car in front of him. And the driver was none too happy, shouting silent obscenities and waving his fist in the air making certain that Cary saw how angry he was. The only saving grace was that the man didn't get out of his car. Cary nodded and smiled, mouthing I'm sorry in hopes that the man would take the apology with little or no arguments. Amazingly the effort did calm the man down, but Cary was still fuming. When the guy turned right on a nearby street, Cary whizzed by, giving him a taste of his own medicine. The hell with him anyway. Cary was in too much of a state of anger to care what some guy thought of him. But he wasn't about to admit fault; not out loud anyway. Still he couldn't blame the guy. After all, Cary almost caused extensive damage to the man's car. He was no car expert, but judging from the make and model, the parts would be difficult to replace.
His anger was nearly at the boiling point and it was about to get the best of him. He couldn't go on like this. If he wasn't careful, he was liable to cause an even bigger accident. And he couldn't let that happen. Miraculously only a few feet away, he spotted a deserted strip mall with nary a car in sight. Thank God…
He pulled into the sorry excuse for a parking lot, bringing the car to a screeching halt. He sat inside for several minutes, fully aware of his racing heartbeat. But suddenly his anger unleashed itself. He screamed as loud as he could, banging repeatedly on the steering wheel until his hand ached. And then he continued, despite the pain. The obscenities poured out of his mouth in rapid succession, along with the frustration that he could do nothing to help Bianca, nothing at all. They were words he hadn't said since college and he'd never had a reason to say them since… until now.
Worn out from his tirade, he sat in his car, trying to force himself to calm down. But his throbbing hand was a harsh reminder of how angry he really was. Perhaps he needed a strong drink… or sleep… or both.
He drove home blindly and when he arrived at his apartment, he had no idea how he'd gotten there. It was the same feeling he'd had when he arrived at the Dwight Correctional Facility, but now that feeling was clouded by images of her. And he knew that it would be impossible to get her out of his mind. Tonight anyway.