Chapter 4
WE’RE NOT SAYING THAT ACRONYM OUT LOUD
I blinked. Once. Twice.
Nothing. No blazing orb of questionable origin. Not even a meteor impact crater. Nothing that explained why I’d swerved hard enough to leave those snaking black marks on the asphalt.
No anything. Just flat, empty road.
“What the f—”
I shot to my feet, steadying myself on the car’s trunk before stepping onto the lane.
The air curled around me, cool and biting, drying the clammy sweat on my forehead.
The wind carried the scent of distant bonfires and damp earth, and fall-painted trees rustled overhead, their dead leaves whispering. The stars were vivid chips of ice.
The night was still. Completely still and unnervingly quiet as I turned in a full circle.
There was nothing out there.
“You’ve got to be joking.” My voice felt extra loud in the loaded silence.
I’d seen it. I knew I’d seen something.
I left the roadside and made my way on trembling legs to where the orb had hovered, and I crouched to get a better look. In the red glow of the taillights, the pavement glittered with something like wet sand or ground glass.
Chilled, I extended a hand, then hesitated. Afraid to touch the ground. Afraid of what I’d feel.
But I couldn’t let it go. Not yet.
Bracing myself, I pressed my palm to the asphalt.
And immediately hissed through my teeth, yanking my hand back and curling it against my chest.
The ground was hot.
Not warm. Hot. Like sunbaked blacktop at the peak of a July afternoon. Like something had burned there a second ago. Something glowing and pulsating and…impossible.
Could it really have been a…?
Climbing to my feet, I scrubbed my hand against my uniform skirt like I could remove the sensation. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the spot. All I could see was that ball of light, that blazing glow, and shock buzzed in my ears.
Which was why I didn’t hear the engine until it was too late.
The low growl of a vehicle registered a split second before headlights burst into view, swerving around the bend.
Coming right for me.
I stumbled back with a scream, but it was too late to run. Too late to get out of the way. I’d been squatting like an idiot in the middle of the road, and now I stood rooted in place by the searing white light hurtling around the curve.
This was it. This was how I died, on the shittiest of shitty days, pancaked on a lonely country road. Splattered while chasing after strange lights—
Tires shrieked.
I shrieked, too, short and hoarse. The chemical scent of burning rubber stung my nose again, and I shrank in on myself, throwing my arms over my face like they could somehow save me. Like I could hide from my inevitable doom adorned with halogen bulbs.
This was it. I waited for the pain. Readied myself for the impact. Hoped my family, my friends, wouldn’t be too sad because this was the end.
Only the end didn’t come. Neither did the impact.
One second passed. Then another.
Somehow…somehow, I was still upright. Still breathing. My heart pounded so hard it hurt, but I was alive. Very much not a pancake.
I pried open one eyelid, gasping.
Headlights burned into my retinas. Behind them, I could barely make out the hulking shape of a larger vehicle, an SUV maybe, idling inches from where I stood.
It’d stopped.
It’d actually stopped.
I didn’t know how, but it hadn’t splattered me across its grill.
Shuddering, my knees finally unstuck enough for me to stagger backward, arm raised to shield my eyes. My hand trembled. Somewhere behind that blur of vicious brightness, a door slammed, the sound echoing against the watching trees.
“What the hell were you doing?” a familiar male voice snapped. “I almost hit you!”
I knew that voice. A shockwave sizzled through me. No. No way.
A tall figure stepped into the glare, blocking part of it. My eyes adjusted just enough to make him out: messy dark hair, broad shoulders, black T-shirt, faded jeans, boots. A body I’d imagined in Spandex not two hours prior to this unfortunate incident.
Sky Acosta.
Because why not? If I could’ve moved, I’d have thrown both hands into the air and given up on this entire day.
But I didn’t move. I stood there gaping while he stalked toward me, his head turning as he took stock of our surroundings. A second later, his eyes locked on mine. And they flared wide.
“It’s…you,” he murmured, barely audible over the rumble of his car’s engine. He took half a step toward me, then stopped and asked, louder this time, “What are you doing here? And why were you standing in the middle of the road?”
“I was…” Words failed me. Those were both two great questions I didn’t have answers to. I wrapped my arms around my middle and scrambled for dignity. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t reply right away. He took a step toward me, out of the light. Shadows fell over most of his face, masking his expression. “Apparently, nearly turning you into roadkill.”
Right. He’d just nearly killed me.
Also: he’d nearly killed me.
The delayed adrenaline roared through me like an angry tidal wave. My stomach knotted itself up, and my throat clamped tight. Head swimming, I stumbled the last few steps to Faith and collapsed over the top of her rusted trunk.
I was going to be sick. I was going to puke up the shift-comped fish sandwich I’d wolfed down. Right here. Right now. In front of Sky.
I fought it with willpower born of desperation. Instead, I pressed my flushed cheek to the cooler metal and focused on breathing.
Because somehow, I was still breathing.
What had I just seen? Could I even trust my memory? Everything had happened so fast. The light, the wreck. The mysteriously appearing bartender.
A scuff of shoes behind me roused me from my descent into madness. A soft curse reached my ears, then—
“Hey, are you okay? Do I need to call someone?”
The world had stopped swimming, so I cautiously straightened, leaning heavily on the car’s bumper. The fish sandwich stayed where it belonged, at least.
My eyes tried to drift back to that empty spot in the road, where I’d nearly been hit while chasing after something that couldn’t be real.
It couldn’t be. When my sandwich pitched dangerously, I made myself focus on where Sky stood near the ditch, his outline bathed in white-blue from his headlights.
His hands rested on his hips as he scanned my vehicle.
When he saw I was upright, he pivoted in my direction, and his voice had softened when he asked, “Are you hurt?”
Was I? I didn’t think so. My limbs trembled with lingering fright, and that stupid headache still throbbed, but considering the alternative—i.e. pancake—I’d take it.
I shook my head and wiped a shaky hand across my damp forehead. My braid had mostly come undone, and frizzy strands stuck to my sweaty face. I was sure I looked like a hot mess.
Why him?
I licked my lips and croaked, “No, I’m fine. I just…thought I saw something in the road. I overcorrected.”
“Something?” His tone was careful. Careful enough that I glanced his way.
His dark eyes were almost black in the shadows, and he wasn’t looking at me. He was scanning our surroundings again, searching the fields and road. The empty sky.
Almost like he was looking for something.
A chill swept over me.
“Yeah. Something.” I rubbed my arms and lifted a shoulder. “I’m not sure what it was.”
Because what I thought I’d seen…couldn’t have been real. A fresh wave of shivers wracked my body, and my teeth chattered.
Sky faced me again, but he didn’t press. Gravel crunched when he stepped off the road’s shoulder and made his way around Faith, as if checking the angle of the ditch. Clutching my middle, I watched him. When he cocked his head, that chunk of his dark bangs flopped over his brow.
Twice in one day, he’d ended up in the place I’d least expected him. We’d spoken more in the last twelve hours than we had in the six months we’d worked together. In other circumstances, I’d be excited. Happy, even.
It was hard to feel happy while questioning my sanity, though.
My pulse had begun to slow enough for me to breathe normally by the time he circled back to me. Embarrassment, my old friend, was beginning to creep in. He probably thought I was even more of an idiot now than he had when I’d ranted about aliens in the prep room.
My stomach flipped at the A-word. I swallowed hard.
Oblivious, Sky gestured at my car, his jacket rustling. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll pull my SUV over, turn on the hazards. We can probably get it out, if you’re up for it. You steer, and I’ll push. Just put it in reverse and give it easy gas when I say.”
When I didn’t move, just gazed up at him, feeling dazed, he shifted closer. Leaned down and angled his chin to meet my eyes. Concern furrowed his brow. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive? I can call someone. A family member. Or the cops. Whatever you need.”
That unexpected gentleness made something soft and traitorous flutter inside me, but I pushed it aside.
Along with the suggestion. My mom didn’t need a panic attack.
My brother didn’t need to wake his very pregnant wife.
And as much as I loved Amelia, I wasn’t ready to explain this.
Not yet. She’d take one look at me and know I was hiding something.
Calling the cops wasn’t an option, either. I really didn’t want my insurance to find out about this. I needed that good driver discount like I needed air.
“No, it’s okay.” I caught his dubious expression. “I’m good. I swear.” I swallowed and squared my shoulders. “I can do it. And…thank you.”
“Okay.” Sky gave a faint smile, the barest tilt to his lips that seemed more worried than anything. “And don’t mention it.”
But as he turned back toward his SUV, I caught him studying me sidelong. Like he wasn’t entirely convinced I hadn’t lost it.
That made two of us.