Chapter 3
Savannah
“Goddamn, motherfucking piece-of-shit car!” My voice bounces off the empty road and echoes sharp and shrill back against the tree trunks lining both sides of the road. It’s freezing, and whatever’s coming from the sky is not quite snow, and it’s damn cold. I slam the hood shut harder than necessary, with an echoing metallic clang. “Fifteen miles. Fifteen fucking miles left to go, and you couldn’t just get me there?”
The rental car sits there, its lifeless hunk of metal mocking me. The engine didn’t sputter. It didn’t cough. It just fucking died like a coward, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere. No streetlights, no passing cars, just me, this icebox of a road, and a sky so vast it feels like it’s swallowing me whole.
I tug my jacket tighter around me, but it doesn’t help. The cold slips through every crack, biting into my skin and settling deep in my bones. I glare at the car as if that’ll magically bring it back to life.
“Fuck you. And fuck this stupid town. And fuck this whole stupid state.”
I stomp around to the trunk and pop it open, rooting through my bag for anything that might help. Tools, duct tape, literally anything. I should’ve had my tools shipped, but no. Dumbass me thought I wouldn’t need them, that I’d survive without my lifeline. I slam shut the trunk and press my freezing hands to my face.
“I could fix you if I had a goddamn alternator belt,” I mutter at the car, pacing in the dark like an idiot. “But no, I don’t carry spare parts in my pocket. Dumb of me. Real fucking dumb.”
The wind picks up and slices through the layers of my clothes, making me shiver. The cold isn’t just uncomfortable—it’s dangerous. My breath fogs in front of me as I pull my phone out of my pocket. No bars. Of course. Why would there be?
“Great. Just perfect. Middle of Nowhere, Maine, and no reception. What the hell did I expect?”
I glare down the road, searching for any sign of headlights. Nothing. Just the quiet hum of the trees in the wind and the faint huff of my own breath. The road’s so dark and empty it makes me feel smaller, like the world could swallow me whole, and no one would even notice.
I slump against the car, sliding down until I’m sitting on the frozen pavement. The cold seeps through my jeans, but I barely notice. I stare at the road, my mind whirling with options. What would Danny do?
Danny. The image of him comes back so clearly, it’s like he’s standing right in front of me. That stupid lopsided grin, the grease smeared on his cheek from working under the hood. “You always overthink it, Savannah,” he says, shaking his head. “Just break it down. Problem, solution. One thing at a time.”
My chest tightens, and the memory shifts. Danny’s lying on the floor, his body crumpled like a broken doll’s. Mitch is beside him, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. The crack of gunfire still rings in my ears, and the weight of my phone is heavy in my hand. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save them.
A sob escapes my throat, and I press the heels of my hands to my eyes. “Stop it. Don’t go there. Not now.”
The tears come anyway, hot against my frozen cheeks. I swipe at them angrily, smearing mascara and cold air across my face. I don’t cry. I don’t do this. But the cold, the loneliness, and the sheer fucking hopelessness of this moment rupture something inside me.
I tilt back my head and laugh, the sound bitter and sharp, breaking apart in the freezing night. “Great start, Savannah. Great fucking start. You’ve been in Maine for two hours, and you already want to hop on the next plane out.”
Two hours. Two hours since I landed at Bangor International Airport and felt this state’s biting chill for the first time. Two hours since I climbed into this rental car, praying it wouldn’t give me trouble, considering its mileage. Two hours since I regretted this entire plan, this entire insane idea my mom forced me into.
“Northwick Cove,” I mutter, the name dripping with sarcasm. “What a great name. Can’t wait to see how ‘quaint’ it is. Thanks, Mom.”
I hug my knees to my chest, trying to think clearly. My options are limited. No cell reception means no calling for a tow. It’s too cold to sit here much longer, and I don’t fancy walking fifteen miles in the dark. Even if I tried, I’d likely freeze my tits off before I made it halfway.
I look up at the sky, the stars scattered like broken glass across the black. Danny would’ve figured it out by now. He’d have a plan. He’d know what to do.
“Yeah, well, I’m not Danny,” I whisper, the words bitter on my tongue.
The wind howls through the trees, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter. The world feels too big, too cold, too empty. And for the first time in weeks, I let myself feel it—the fear, the loneliness, the crushing weight of everything I’ve lost.
I don’t know how long I sit there. The cold seeps into my skin. I’m going to give myself a few minutes and a good cry then I’ll walk to that stupid town.
* * *
Todd
The old van rattles as it hugs the narrow road’s curves, each bump and groove threatening to jar it apart. I give the steering wheel a reassuring pat, like I’m talking to a skittish horse. “Hang in there, girl,” I mutter under my breath. “You’ve got at least one more trip in you.”
Colton sits beside me on the bench seat, staring out the window like he’s trying to will the forest to disappear. He’s quieter than usual, and I know exactly why. My brother hates leaving Northwick Cove, let alone driving to the next town for supplies. If it were up to him, we’d never cross the town limits. But sometimes, you need more than bait, tackle, and thermal socks from the Cove’s general store.
Thank God we didn’t have to go to Bangor today. Colton would’ve sulked for a week if we’d had to deal with that much traffic and noise. Bangor’s not even a big city by most people’s standards, but it’s plenty big for us. For Colton, it’s downright overwhelming.
The silence stretches between us, broken only the occasional thud of a pothole I can’t avoid. I reach for the radio, twisting the knob to see if I can pick up a station. Nothing but static. Figures. Not only do the trees here block cell signals, they strangle the airwaves, too.
“Leave it,” Colton mutters, without looking at me.
I roll my eyes and keep fiddling with the dial, hoping for a miracle. “A little music wouldn’t kill you, you know.”
“Focus on the road,” he snaps.
I open my mouth to retort, but before I can, Colton straightens in his seat. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” I glance at him, startled, then jerk on the wheel. The van swerves, and I curse, quickly correcting it before I slam on the brakes. The tires skid on the frosty pavement before the van comes to a stop, rocking gently.
“What the hell, Colton?” I glare at him.
He points ahead. “That.”
I follow his finger to a small red car parked at the side of the road, dark and lifeless. No smoke coming from the exhaust, so the engine isn’t running, and it’s too damn cold for anyone to be sitting in a dead car. But there’s a shadow inside. My chest tightens.
I put the van in park and pull on the emergency brake. “Stay here,” I mutter, already unbuckling.
Colton doesn’t listen. Of course he doesn’t. He’s out the door before I can stop him, moving to the back of the van, probably getting the first-aid kit. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and approach the car cautiously, the frost crunching under my boots. My breath fogs the air, and I must stop myself from shivering. The cold doesn’t usually bother me, but something about this—about what I might find—sends a chill straight to my bones.
The car’s a rental—the plates are a dead giveaway. I lean in closer, cupping my hands against the glass to block the glare of the faint moonlight. A woman’s inside. Blonde hair, slender build. She’s not moving, but her chest rises and falls, faint and steady.
I knock on the window. No response. I try the door, and it’s unlocked.
Getting a full view of her, my body reacts before my brain can catch up. A sharp jolt of awareness hits me low in the gut, and my cock stirs. She’s beautiful, even like this.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, disgusted with myself. “She could be freezing to death, and you’re checking her out? Bastard.”
Colton jogs up on the other side of the car, holding the first-aid kit. “What’s the situation?”
“One woman, breathing.” I keep my voice low. “But she’s cold. Too damn cold.”
Colton immediately opens the passenger door and pulls it wide. I carefully assess her condition. Her skin’s freezing, even through her thin jacket. Maine in March, and this is what she’s got on? Stupid. Reckless.
I check her for injuries as best I can, moving my hands gently over her arms and legs. I’m no doctor, but I know enough first aid to recognize when someone’s hurt. Nothing obvious, no blood, no broken bones. Just the cold.
“She’s not hurt, by the looks of it,” I tell Colton, “but she’s hypothermic. We need to get her warm.”
Colton pulls an emergency blanket from the first aid kit and hands it to me. “Wrap her up.”
I drape the blanket over her shoulders and tuck it around her as best I can. She doesn’t stir, her head lolling slightly as I lift her out of the car. She’s lighter than expected, but there’s a solidness to her, too, like she’s fought her way through something and survived. Her body presses against mine, and for a moment, I forget about the cold. About anything else.
“Can you get her luggage and lock up the rental?” I force myself to think rationally. “The car’s not moving on its own. We’ll call the Mitchells to tow it later. Right now, we need to get her safe.”
Colton nods, already reaching into the car for the keys. Leaving the car and luggage to him, I start walking back to the van.
“Get her in the van. I’ll drive.”
I glance at him over my shoulder and raise one eyebrow. “You sure? You hate driving.”
“Just get her in,” he snaps, already heading for the driver’s side, carrying a duffel and a backpack.
I bring her to the van, my boots crunching on the frosty ground. She doesn’t stir as I settle her onto the bench seat, her head resting against my arm. Her hair brushes my cheek, soft and faintly floral-scented, and I swallow hard, feeling like an idiot.
The back door slams and the van shakes. Moments later, Colton climbs in behind the wheel. “Give me the keys.” He holds out his hand.
I roll my eyes but hand them over. “You’re awfully chatty tonight.”
“Shut up and hold her,” he mutters, putting on his safety belt. Before I can respond, he clubs me lightly on the back of the head.
“Asshole.” I rub the back of my head, grinning despite myself.
“Moron,” he shoots back, starting the engine. The van growls to life.
I adjust the blanket around the woman, making sure she’s covered. She doesn’t move, her face pale and peaceful in the dashboard’s dim light. My chest tightens again, and I brush a strand of hair away from her face, my fingers lingering a moment too long.
“Let’s take her to Mel,” I say, quieter than I meant it to be.
Colton nods and flexes his hands around the wheel. “Sound plan.”
As the van rumbles down the road, I glance out at the dark trees passing by, still cradling the stranger. I don’t know who she is, or how she ended up here, but I do know she feels right between the two of us. Like that isn’t weird at all.