The screech of tires and the jarring impact of metal on metal jolted Brandon from his self-absorbed thoughts. He slammed on the brakes, his body lurching forward against the seatbelt. He swore under his breath, his anger flaring. This was the last thing he needed.
He threw open the car door and stormed out, his eyes scanning for the offending vehicle. He spotted it a few feet behind him, a sleek black salon with a dented front bumper and tinted windows which were wound down. A man emerged from the driver's side then he opened the back door and a man came out, his expression calm, almost amused.
Brandon's anger intensified. He marched towards the man, his fists clenching. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled, his voice laced with rage. "You just rammed into my car! Does your driver even know how to drive?"
