Chapter 59

**Heizel’s POV**

As I pressed down on the gas, the Jaguar surged forward, responding with a growl that sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins. The road stretched out before me, smooth and endless, begging to be conquered. This wasn’t just driving—it was freedom, pure and unfiltered.

Fast cars had always been my weakness. I still remembered the first time I sat behind the wheel of my stepfather’s old sports car. I was 15, barely tall enough to reach the pedals, but determined to feel the thrill of speed. That day, with the wind whipping through the open windows and the engine roaring like a caged beast, I discovered something that changed me forever.

From that moment on, driving wasn’t just a skill—it was a passion. I’d spent countless hours on empty backroads, testing limits, mastering every curve and turn. And in all those years, I had never—never—broken a car. No dents, no scratches, no blown-out engines. Every vehicle I drove, no matter how fast or reckless it seemed, remained in perfect condition, as if they too shared my love for the open road.

Matthew didn’t seem to share my confidence. As the car picked up speed, I glanced over to see him gripping the handle above the door like his life depended on it. The sight made me laugh—a loud, unrestrained sound that filled the car.

“Relax, Matthew,” I teased, shifting gears effortlessly as the Jaguar roared beneath us. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“That’s exactly what worries me,” he muttered, his voice tight.

I smirked, the corners of my mouth curling into a mischievous grin. “You don’t trust me?”

“Oh, I trust you,” he said, his knuckles whitening as I took a sharp turn. “I just don’t trust your definition of ‘safe driving.’”

The car hugged the curve like it was on rails, smooth and precise, every movement calculated. The rush of adrenaline coursing through me was electric, making every nerve in my body hum with life.

“I started driving when I was 15, you know,” I said, my tone light as if we weren’t flying down the road at an exhilarating speed. “Old backroads, long stretches of empty highways... I’ve driven everything from beat-up pickups to cars like this.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow, his grip loosening slightly as curiosity replaced his initial panic. “And how did a 15-year-old manage that?”

I grinned, shifting gears again as the engine purred beneath me. “Let’s just say my stepfather didn’t keep the best track of his keys. Fast cars were the one good thing about him. Every time I drove, it was like I could leave everything behind. All the drama, the chaos—it didn’t matter when I was behind the wheel. It was just me, the car, and the road.”

Matthew watched me closely, his expression softening. “You really love this, don’t you?”

I nodded, my eyes focused on the road ahead. “More than anything. There’s nothing like it—the speed, the control, the way the car feels like an extension of yourself. It’s… freeing.”

He didn’t respond, but I could feel his gaze on me, a mix of admiration and something else I couldn’t quite place.

The road ahead opened up, a long stretch of straight asphalt that begged to be devoured. I couldn’t resist. Pressing harder on the gas, the Jaguar leapt forward, the roar of the engine filling the air as the world blurred around us.

Matthew let out a low groan, his hand flying back to the handle. “Heizel!”

“What’s the matter, Matthew?” I said, laughing as I glanced over at him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Scared?” he shot back, his voice tight with mock indignation. “I’m not scared. I’m just… prepared. For anything.”

“Prepared?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You’re holding onto that handle like it’s a lifeline.”

“I’m ensuring my survival,” he said, his tone dry.

I laughed harder, the sound bubbling up freely. “You’re such a drama queen!”

“And you’re a maniac,” he retorted, though there was a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The road began to curve again, and I took the turns effortlessly, the tires gripping the pavement like they were made for it. The rush of wind, the roar of the engine, the thrill of speed—it all combined into something intoxicating, something I couldn’t get enough of.

By the time I finally slowed down and pulled off onto a gravel path leading to an overlook, my cheeks hurt from smiling. The car rolled to a stop, and I turned to Matthew, who was still holding the handle, though his grip had relaxed.

“You can let go now,” I said, smirking.

He shot me a look, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’re insane.”

“And you love it,” I quipped, stepping out of the car.

The view was breathtaking. Rolling hills stretched out before us, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, the colors reflecting off the distant lake like liquid fire.

Matthew joined me by the hood of the car, leaning against it as he took in the scenery. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of the wind through the grass and the distant chirping of birds.

“Nice choice,” I said, nodding toward the view.

Matthew glanced at me, his eyes soft. “You needed this,” he said simply.

I didn’t respond, but he was right. I had needed this. The drive, the speed, the laughter—it was like a weight had been lifted off my chest, even if just for a little while.

“Thanks for trusting me with the car,” I said after a while, my voice quieter.

He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thanks for not crashing it.”

I rolled my eyes, nudging him lightly with my shoulder. “Please. I’ve never broken a car in my life. You were perfectly safe with me.”

He gave me a sideways glance, his lips twitching into a smile. “Perfectly safe might be a stretch. But… I’ll give you this—you’re a damn good driver.”

“Damn right I am,” I said, grinning.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the hills, I felt something stir inside me—a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, I felt free.

And as Matthew stood beside me, the warmth of his presence grounding me, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could hold onto this feeling a little longer.