Chapter 11
The warmth from my skin faded as I watched from outside of my body.
I watched as we made our way, carefree and so full of life, down the stone steps. The dreamy, lovesick, and drunk, glassy-eyed look was clear on my face, with my bright pink cheeks and bright smile, as was the admiration on my father’s face as he whispered something to my mother, who just giggled and blushed like a schoolgirl talking to her first crush.
We were the picture of the perfect, elite New York family out at an event with not a single care in the entire world.
We looked like nothing could touch us.
We felt like nothing bad could ever happen to us.
Except now, I knew what was coming.
I had relived this moment so many times.
I screamed at them no, don’t, it’s not worth it. Stay a little longer. Get a hotel room down the street. Don’t drive in this weather.
I screamed with everything I had, but I didn’t make a sound, and the figures paid me no mind as they made their way to the waiting limo idling at the curb.
It was completely futile, but I still screamed as the cold grip of what was to come clawed at my skin.
It didn’t matter.
I had to try.
I followed them down the stairs, down to the limo, and even banged on the window, begging them not to go.
“Oh, it is so cold out tonight,” my mom said, pulling her shawl around me.
I pushed it away.“I don’t feel cold. In fact, the wind feels so good.”
My body was still warm from the heat of Lucian Manwarring’s arms. It was as if I could still feel the press of his fingers on my upper arms as the scent of his cologne still clung to me from where my body had connected with his.
“You’ll catch your death,” she said.
“Leave her alone. The car will warm in a moment, and we will be home before you know it. I called ahead and had the maids prep the fireplaces in the bedrooms.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely. So sweet and romantic?—”
“Please stop talking.” I covered my ears with my hands. “I don’t want siblings, and I really don’t need to hear any of this.”
I was teasing them, and both my parents laughed as they leaned over me to give each other a cute little peck that I pretended to be grossed out by.
Most of my friends’ parents had an arranged marriage.
It was the norm in our society, but not my parents.
My parents had a love story that rivaled Charlotte’s.
They had fallen madly in love and stayed that way. They never argued or fought, and if they had ever had a falling out, I didn’t know about it. Even from the inside of this family, our lives were wonderful.
I had no reason to ever doubt that mine would stay warm, loving, and perfect.
“You guys are gross,” I said, not really meaning it.
“Well, if you find that king you want so badly, you will be just as gross,” my mother teased right back.
“When I find my king, we will be much worse, but in the privacy of our own home. Bleh.”
Both my parents tipped their heads back, laughing hard.
My mother’s bright smile and green eyes were the last things I saw before the world faded to black around me while my own cries echoed in my ears.
Next, I was back in my body.
Everything was so cold, and I couldn’t move.
I opened my eyes to see my mother’s face, now broken and mangled, her green eyes lifeless and dim, staring at me as a moan or rattle emanated from her open lips.
“Mom,” I cried out and tried to move my hand towards her, but a dull, crushing pain shot through my entire body.
I choked on the scream that tore from my lips. Something was on top of me, making it impossible to move.
I got one hand free and reached out for my mother, not seeing the shard of twisted metal that was lodged in her throat until it was too late.
There was so much blood leaking from her red lips, soaking into her dress, which was a dark blue and now looked like an inky wet black.
“Mom, no, please,” I called again.
My voice was hoarse, and I was so cold.
I needed help.
I needed to find help.
Where was my father? Surely, the police had to be on their way. Someone had to be around to help me. This was New York City, millions of people crowded into one tiny island.
Someone had to be close.
With as much strength as I could muster, I pushed the plastic divider off of my upper body.
It was hard.
The second I moved it, I was much colder, but it was easier to breathe. I tried to move my legs, but they were pinned down by something heavy and cold.
Something large and black. It wasn’t a piece of the car.
It was fabric, not leather or metal. It took me a few moments to realize it was my father’s body over mine. He was so heavy, I couldn’t move him.
I cried out again. I was answered only by the howling wind blowing through the car.
“Please help.” The words came out of my mouth, barely above a whisper. I was trying to shout, but it hurt.
Snow drifted in through the broken glass and torn metal.
I looked out of the window closest to me, and it was just a solid white wall.
But if there was snow floating in, it had to be coming from somewhere. My mind was still fuzzy, and it took me a moment to realize I wasn’t on the seats.
I was on the roof of the car.
We had somehow flipped over.
My mother was dead, and I hadn’t seen his face yet, but I just knew my father was gone too.
“Help!” I cried out again, ignoring the screams of pain from my ribs as I tried to project my voice.
The window on the other side of my father was shattered, but I could only see out a few inches that weren’t blocked by a wall of snow. Those inches were covered with jagged pieces of glass. Even if I could get out that way, I would gut myself in the process.
There had to be a way out the front.
Maybe the driver had been able to get out and go for help. It took several agonizing minutes before I was able to actually get on my hands and knees. The shards of broken glass cut into my palms as I slowly made my way to the front of the car.
The driver was still buckled into his seat, hanging lifeless upside down with his blood dripping down into a puddle on the roof of the car. The way his head had been bashed in by the steering wheel was going to haunt my dreams forever.
Next to the ever-growing puddle of blood was a silver flask. It had to have been the driver’s. Had he been drunk? Had he killed my parents? My heart was cold, and I couldn’t even muster the energy to hate him, not yet.
My stomach rolled as I squeezed my eyes closed and looked away, trying to regain enough composure to figure out how to get out of the car.
The windshield was shattered, but it was also blocked in by snow, and the passenger-side window had the same problem. The only way out was through the open window on the driver’s other side, and I couldn’t get past the driver.
“Help!” I screamed.
I kept screaming it over and over, my voice getting stronger with each pass until my throat felt like it was on fire while the rest of my body was freezing. I kept screaming as long as I could, but eventually I didn’t have the strength.
My eyes slid closed as I collapsed on top of more pieces of broken glass, and the world went dark again.
There was no way to tell how long I was out. It wasn’t until I heard a faint voice calling that I was able to open my eyes again.
“This is the New York City Police Department. Is there anyone still in there?”
“Yes,” I tried calling out, but my throat was too dry, too raw, and my lungs hurt too much to take a deep breath.
“I don’t think there is anyone in there, cap,” the voice said.
I tried to call out again, but it was useless.
I had to make some noise. They couldn’t leave. I had to tell them I was here. If they left, I would die, cold and alone.
All because of one stupid limo driver who thought he could get away with drinking on the job in the middle of a snowstorm.
I wrapped my fingers around the cold slippery flask, now covered in half-frozen, thick blood, and hit it on the roof of the car.
Nausea rolled in my stomach as I struggled to keep a grip on the frigid metal, but I struck it again and again.
“Wait, I think I hear something,” one of the voices said, and I nearly cried in relief.
I hit harder, faster. I was so close to being saved, so close.
“I don’t know,” another voice said. “I don’t hear anything.”
With as much strength as I had, my entire body still and nearly frozen, I hit the flask on the roof harder and faster again.
I silently begged them to save me before I froze to death in this icy tomb with my parents.
And just as always, I found myself longing to return to the safety and warmth of the devil’s arms.