Carl couldn't find it in himself to go home. He was worried about Violet and the man who was literally knocking on her door.
Fucking. Liam.
He didn't want to seem clingy and head on over to her little house in Berkeley, but he found himself driving up I-880 anyway.
Scoffing at himself, he sped past the slower drivers in the right lane and wove a dangerous path before getting off the exit he needed.
Then he realized something. His conspicuous red Tesla was going to stick out like a sore thumb. So he did what any rational man in love did. He parked four blocks away and hailed a cab so he could hitch a ride to get closer.
Stepping into the taxi, he told the driver where to go and offered him generous compensation for it.
Handing over two crisp one hundred dollar bills, Carl told the dri
