9. Sadie #2
Gabby turns the windshield wipers on high and slows to a crawl, though she refuses to pull over. “We have to keep going,” she says more to herself than to me. “We have to make it through.”
I nod, though I don’t think she’s even aware of my presence. Gabby seems to be somewhere else, as if the storm brought back a memory.
The car lurches to the left, splashing into a giant pothole in the road. Gabby turns the wheel to avoid getting stuck, but the motion sends the car spinning as it hydroplanes over the nearly washed-out road.
I brace myself with one arm on the dashboard while the other clutches my seatbelt. “Gabby!” I shout over the roaring thunder and pounding rain. “We have to pull over!”
The words barely leave my lips before the car splashes through a deep puddle and sputters to a grinding halt. Now that we’ve stopped, I look out the window and see that the water level is nearly to the top of the tires, and rising.
“Gabby,” I say again, this time resting my hand on her forearm.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or a ghost. She’s looking straight ahead, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.
“We need to get out of the car,” I tell her.
Two headlights flash in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, I’m sure I made them up. The longer I stare in the mirror, however, the closer the lights get, until they stop a dozen feet or so behind us.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and shove the car door with all my might.
It barely budges thanks to the water pressure from the flood.
I look over at Gabby, who still seems to be in shock.
Her face is blank, but she’s trembling from head to toe, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as if it’s the only thing anchoring her to the earth.
Moments later, Cutter’s face appears in the rearview mirror, along with another man. I blink a few times, my heart stopping in my chest when I realize it’s really him. Cutter might hate me, but he cared enough to come searching for me during the storm. That has to mean something, right?
My door is ripped open, and the next thing I know, Cutter’s arms are around my waist, pulling me out of the car and holding me close to his chest. I fist his shirt and cling to him, not wanting him to ever let me go.
“C-C-Cut-ter,” I choke out.
“Save your strength.” Water drips down his beard, and his brow furrows as he looks at me. I can’t tell if he’s concerned or considering throwing me back in the water rushing around his knees.
He opens the passenger side door of what I assume is his truck and sets me inside, leaning over to buckle my seatbelt. He cups my cheeks, his eyes roaming over my face and body in search of damage. When Cutter is satisfied with his inspection, he nods and closes the door.
I watch as Cutter helps the other man open Gabby’s door.
She’s still not moving, but the man I don’t recognize seems to be talking to her.
He reaches over and unbuckles her seatbelt, then scoops her up and wades through the water to safety.
He carries her past the truck I’m in, straight to a second truck I didn’t notice before.
Cutter returns to me, opening his door and hopping inside.
“Gabby?” I ask, needing to know she’s okay.
“Sullivan will take care of her.”
“I can’t leave her,” I insist. She was so scared.
“We all need to get out of here and get back to higher ground. Sullivan is a good man. He owns the only inn here in town, so Gabby will have a place to crash. He’ll get a tow for the car squared away once the storm passes.
” I nod, but I still don’t like the thought of leaving my new friend.
“I’ll call him as soon as we get back to my cabin.
You can talk to Gabby and make sure she’s okay. ”
I agree, and Cutter backs away from the washed-out portion of the road, doing a five-point turn to head back to town. Gabby and Sullivan have already left, and I’m anxious to get back to Cutter’s so I can check in with her.
The adrenaline coursing through my veins, along with my wet clothes and soaking hair, has me shivering uncontrollably. I rest my head against the window and close my eyes, but Cutter gets my attention by placing his hand on my thigh.
“Stay with me, sweetheart. Don’t fall asleep. I’m not sure if you’re concussed or… Fuck, I did it again. I abandoned the most important person and now…”
“I’m okay,” I tell him, my hand covering his. “We didn’t crash. I don’t have a concussion or scrapes or bruises. It was just scary. You got to us in time.”
He nods a few times and heaves out a breath.
Wait. Did he say I was the most important person? My mind is spinning, along with my emotions. My stomach is in knots, and I feel like I might pass out. It’s all too much.
“Stay with me,” Cutter repeats. “I have to get you warmed up, and then we can talk.”
Is he taking care of me out of obligation, or is he really willing to give me a second chance? Probably the former. Either way, at least I have another chance to convince him I love him.