Free Purpose by Kristie Cook Page A

stop Swirly, anyway. She
was obviously in charge right now. I went into my office and packed
my laptop and chargers and anything else I would need. Then I went
to say good-bye to Dorian.
    “Are you going with Dad?” Dorian asked.
    “ What ?” I stared at him in shock.
    “His car is outside,” he explained with his
six-year-old logic. He glanced out his bedroom window at the
Ferrari parked in the driveway.
    “Oh, no, honey,” I said, hugging him. “I’m
just driving his car. Daddy is still not home.”
    “Oh.” His chin quivered.
    I gave him another squeeze. “I’ll call you
later. Be good for Mimi, okay? I love you.”
    “I love you, too, Mom.” His eyes shone with
tears. I had to get out of here.
    I grabbed my laptop bag, my suitcase and the
other bag…Tristan’s bag. I didn’t know why I felt the need to bring
it but I did. Maybe I’ll just burn everything and be done with
it. Maybe that would bring the closure I need. No, I could
never do such a thing. I didn’t want closure. I just wanted that
physical connection.
    “This is a bad idea,” Mom said, following me
outside. I threw the bags into the Ferrari’s passenger seat.
    “No, it’s a good idea. Or, at least it is an idea. The first real idea I’ve had, one with
purpose, anyway.”
    “What kind of purpose, Alexis? You don’t even
know where you’re going.”
    I didn’t answer her. I got in the car and
left. Deep down inside, I did know my destination. After filling up
with gas, the direction came automatically. Without a thought, I
jumped on I-75 and sped south, then east, and then south again. As
far south as the highway would go, as fast as I could go.
     
    Driving the Ferrari induced a rush of
adrenaline through my veins. It purred at 120 miles per hour and it
felt like no more than seventy. My senses were so highly tuned, I
couldn’t even believe the possibility of losing control. I would
come up behind someone creeping along at eighty in the left lane
and smoothly move to the right, then slip back to the left. As if I
was dancing, the car as my partner, and simply gliding around
another couple. Instead of the blur of green and brown streaming
by, I could see every pine tree, palm and palmetto bush
individually. Possibly even every needle and palm frond. I even had
some kind of sense for cops, because I automatically slowed down
long before I saw the marked cars. I felt so liberated. And
crazy…and maniacal…but I tried to ignore those theories.
    The farther I put Atlanta behind me, the more
this decision felt absolutely right. Perhaps because I felt a sense
of release with the idea of being free—free to do what I wanted to do, without watching, measuring eyes. Or maybe it felt
right because I headed for a place where Tristan had once been, a
place with real memories, a place with his presence. Then again,
perhaps I just knew I needed to remove myself from the people I
loved. Before I hurt them any more than I already had, especially
with this new Evil Alexis, who was even worse than Psycho and
Swirly.
    That thought brought Dorian’s face to mind
and the urge to turn around and run back to him. But something
inside me knew this was more important right now. I needed to do
this for him, for all of us. Whatever was going on with me right
now surely couldn’t last forever. Mom said things would get better,
even if they became worse first. And Dorian didn’t need to be
around if and when things got worse. Yes, this is exactly what
we all need .
    The drive should have taken over twelve
hours. I approached Miami within five. By 8:30 in the evening, I
came to the turn-off to our little key. I slowed down, but…although
I’d made this trip specifically to face the beach house and its
memories…I couldn’t bring myself to make the turn. Not tonight.
Can’t handle it yet. I drove fifty miles farther, to the end,
to Key West.
    My hotel suite’s window looked down on Duval
Street, crowded with tourists hopping from bar to bar. I