REDEMPTION

Chapter 8: Revelation.

The atmosphere in the car was fraught with tension. Sierra could feel it in her bones. She sat stiff backed and silent, wishing for the night to be over. Why the hell hadn't she demanded to take the taxi home, she wondered, oh right, it was because the big bully next to her had commandeered her into his flashy car, that's why. What was she supposed to do, wrestle him in the foyer of the hotel? Somehow she had a feeling she would have come out second best in that particular endeavour.

But Sierra had her ways of punishing him just the same, and she was currently employing the most obvious and juvenile method at her disposal, she was not talking to him.

She sat utterly silent in the face of his repeated entreaties. 

Dan had tried to make amends after dinner, but Sierra had decided the night was over after coming back from the ladies room, picked up her clutch and walked off without a backward glance. A vice like grip had forestalled her at the front door. Dan had been adamant about her telling him what the hell was wrong, but Sierra had only informed him coldly that she was leaving. 

Telling him that in a crowded lobby might not have been her best idea, Dan had looked like he was hanging onto his temper by a thread by that point. 

But he had still rubbished her idea of calling for a taxi, and dragged her outside without another word to his waiting car. Maybe she hadn't shown the best finesse, Sierra thought now sitting here next to the seething man, but she didn't feel guilty. There really was nothing else to be said. His views and who he supported, even if it was just political, were far too much for her to stomach. The fact that he would even consider voting for a bigoted hate monger like Vincent Taggart was a huge red flag in her eyes. That Dan had gone so far as to fund the man's winning campaign was the final nail in the coffin. How could she, a trans woman, ever have any hope of pursuing any kind of relationship with a man like Dan, they were from two different worlds. 

All she wanted was out.

Long gone were the days of sparing someone else's feelings. Sierra was full up inside, she couldn't afford the luxury of empathy, not at this stage in her life. 

If rejection was to be her lot in life, Sierra had decided long ago that it was going to be her who did it. The other way around had almost broken her in the past. She could not risk a repeat of Ryan, she thought frantically, that had nigh on destroyed her soul. 

Memories assaulted her beleaguered mind against her will, leaving no place in it for anything other than her own misery.

In that moment Sierra failed to realise she was being just as prejudiced as the morons who had judged her in the past.

Unfortunately she also misjudged the explosive fury that was flaring to life in her silently brooding companion.

If she hadn't been mired in her own preoccupied thoughts, Sierra would have taken stock of the pallor in Dan's straining knuckles as he gripped onto the steering wheel. Or the fact that he had run not one but two red lights. If she had not been avoiding looking at him and concentrating on how much longer the ignoble drive would take she would have also seen the grim hardness of his face. The burning intensity in his grey eyes. The lips thinning to a fine line in his hard mouth. But Sierra didn't notice any of that, more fool her she would later think, she was far too busy heaving a sigh of relief when the car finally turned into her street, stopping smartly by the front door.

"Goodnight," she said politely without preamble. 

In the act of unbuckling her seat-belt she felt an iron hard hand grip both  of hers, holding her captive.