pissing her off.
Em widens the gulf between us, turning and taking everything good in my life with her when she grabs her set of car keys from the rack and walks out. I can’t let her leave. My heart is clenching so hard I can hardly breathe.
“Emma!” I shout. She’s on her way out, stomping through the driving snow toward the car her parents left for her.
“Dude,” Jason appears at my side, “I leave you for a few minutes to get food and everything goes to hell?”
“I don’t have time for this,” I huff.
“Don’t care,” he says, grabbing a jacket and following me through the garage. “You’re going to hear it anyway.”
By the time I reach the driveway, the heavy snowfall has nearly obliterated my view of Em’s car. But I know where she’s going. Where she always goes when she’s upset.
Memorial Gardens Cemetery.
“You want to bitch at me,” I snap at Jason, “then get in the car!”
He nods, and trudges behind me to the Acura. I sit behind the steering wheel and belt in. Em’s gone, no sign of her, and my heart hurts too bad to feel if she’s close.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The quickest way to Memorial Gardens skirts the Lake Michigan shoreline. I force the Acura into motion, smashing the gas pedal to the floor. The world has lost all color, nothing but smeared black and gray and white in the snowstorm.
Beams from the car’s headlights stab into the blowing white. Snowflakes rush at the windshield obliterating my view.
“Jesus,” Jason exclaims, and fumbles his hold on the dashboard. “Slow down!”
“Can’t,” and I don’t.
I trust my heightened instincts to get me there as fast as possible. A horrid, nameless fear has taken root, flung tendrils through me. They strangle my lungs, squeeze around my heart. Feelers reach in my brain, whispering brittle truths. Hailey knew we would be there. She meant to hurt Emma’s feelings while I watched. I can’t let the viper win and drive a wedge between me and Em. Everything that is Daniel inside me is screaming to fix this.
Through the driving snow I catch sight of tail lights ahead, near the dunes and the old restaurant close to the mouth of the river. Emma . All of me, every nerve, every fiber knows it’s her. A breath of relief loosens the stranglehold on my lungs. Then another car, one I’ve never seen, flicks on its lights in the private drive across the street. The driver has their hood up around their face, and charges after Em’s vehicle.
“Who the hell is that?” Jason asks.
“No clue!”
It happens so fast, like a knife in the back.
“Dammit!” I shout when the road dips and I lose sight of them. Adrenaline blazes in my veins, compounding my electric charge.
A collision shatters the night’s silence. Jason shouts something. I suck in a sharp breath. Tires squeal, an engine whines. The Acura can’t keep up with my heart rate, I need to be over the hill, make sure Em’s OK. I hold my breath until the car crests the rise. Ahead, one vehicle wavers on the road, rocketing toward the bridge, red from the tail lights leaving a blood trail in the snow. The other car, a ghost in the squall, flees, heading away from the shore.
“Oh God,” Jason mutters. “Oh my God…”
I’m afraid God’s not listening.
My heart lodges in my throat as Emma’s battered car fishtails toward the river’s mouth.
This can’t be happening. It can’t. I’m watching a horror movie, belted into the theater seat with no escape.
The squeal of brakes rips the night, violent, loud testimony that this is real. Someone hit her car, but this is my fault.
She wouldn’t be on this road if it wasn’t for me. I’m responsible and I can’t save her.
Emma’s front tires catch enough gravel on the edge of the road to launch the car over the embankment. The little vehicle teeters on a back tire snagged on the bridge. I have enough time to regret dancing with Hailey before Em’s face appears in the window. The car rocks and her eyes widen with
Em widens the gulf between us, turning and taking everything good in my life with her when she grabs her set of car keys from the rack and walks out. I can’t let her leave. My heart is clenching so hard I can hardly breathe.
“Emma!” I shout. She’s on her way out, stomping through the driving snow toward the car her parents left for her.
“Dude,” Jason appears at my side, “I leave you for a few minutes to get food and everything goes to hell?”
“I don’t have time for this,” I huff.
“Don’t care,” he says, grabbing a jacket and following me through the garage. “You’re going to hear it anyway.”
By the time I reach the driveway, the heavy snowfall has nearly obliterated my view of Em’s car. But I know where she’s going. Where she always goes when she’s upset.
Memorial Gardens Cemetery.
“You want to bitch at me,” I snap at Jason, “then get in the car!”
He nods, and trudges behind me to the Acura. I sit behind the steering wheel and belt in. Em’s gone, no sign of her, and my heart hurts too bad to feel if she’s close.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The quickest way to Memorial Gardens skirts the Lake Michigan shoreline. I force the Acura into motion, smashing the gas pedal to the floor. The world has lost all color, nothing but smeared black and gray and white in the snowstorm.
Beams from the car’s headlights stab into the blowing white. Snowflakes rush at the windshield obliterating my view.
“Jesus,” Jason exclaims, and fumbles his hold on the dashboard. “Slow down!”
“Can’t,” and I don’t.
I trust my heightened instincts to get me there as fast as possible. A horrid, nameless fear has taken root, flung tendrils through me. They strangle my lungs, squeeze around my heart. Feelers reach in my brain, whispering brittle truths. Hailey knew we would be there. She meant to hurt Emma’s feelings while I watched. I can’t let the viper win and drive a wedge between me and Em. Everything that is Daniel inside me is screaming to fix this.
Through the driving snow I catch sight of tail lights ahead, near the dunes and the old restaurant close to the mouth of the river. Emma . All of me, every nerve, every fiber knows it’s her. A breath of relief loosens the stranglehold on my lungs. Then another car, one I’ve never seen, flicks on its lights in the private drive across the street. The driver has their hood up around their face, and charges after Em’s vehicle.
“Who the hell is that?” Jason asks.
“No clue!”
It happens so fast, like a knife in the back.
“Dammit!” I shout when the road dips and I lose sight of them. Adrenaline blazes in my veins, compounding my electric charge.
A collision shatters the night’s silence. Jason shouts something. I suck in a sharp breath. Tires squeal, an engine whines. The Acura can’t keep up with my heart rate, I need to be over the hill, make sure Em’s OK. I hold my breath until the car crests the rise. Ahead, one vehicle wavers on the road, rocketing toward the bridge, red from the tail lights leaving a blood trail in the snow. The other car, a ghost in the squall, flees, heading away from the shore.
“Oh God,” Jason mutters. “Oh my God…”
I’m afraid God’s not listening.
My heart lodges in my throat as Emma’s battered car fishtails toward the river’s mouth.
This can’t be happening. It can’t. I’m watching a horror movie, belted into the theater seat with no escape.
The squeal of brakes rips the night, violent, loud testimony that this is real. Someone hit her car, but this is my fault.
She wouldn’t be on this road if it wasn’t for me. I’m responsible and I can’t save her.
Emma’s front tires catch enough gravel on the edge of the road to launch the car over the embankment. The little vehicle teeters on a back tire snagged on the bridge. I have enough time to regret dancing with Hailey before Em’s face appears in the window. The car rocks and her eyes widen with
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