Chapter 2 #3
A look behind us reveals the welcome sight of several flashing lights in the distance. I don’t know for certain they’re here for us, but I really, really hope so.
“The police,” Kylie announces. “Dad. You should pull over. It’s the law.”
Harry punches the gas, and the car jerks forward. “We’re not pulling over. And they might not be looking for me. They could be pulling someone else over. Someone speeding or something.”
It’s possible. But given the situation, unlikely.
As I’m watching through the rear window, another car comes flying up behind us. It’s a blue Subaru hatchback, not unlike the one Derek borrowed from his dad. I can’t identify the driver from here, but he’s tall and dark-haired and oh, I desperately hope it’s Derek.
But how, the logical side of my brain asks. How in the world could Derek be right behind us? How in the world could he have found me when I couldn’t tell him where I am?
I don’t know. But it doesn’t stop me from hoping.
“Damn it!” Harry hisses. He punches the gas again. I grab my seatbelt to make sure it’s fastened. Then I turn to Kylie and say urgently, “Put on your seatbelt. Now.”
As she fumbles for her seatbelt, she asks, “Are the police coming for us?”
“No,” her dad snaps. “They’re looking for someone else.” He sounds increasingly frazzled. “There’s no way—”
Behind us, the flashing lights close in.
And the blue hatchback is only a few car lengths away. Not close enough to identify the driver, but enough to hope.
“Damn it!” Harry shouts. “I’m not going to jail!”
Fear builds as his driving grows more erratic. His attention is split between the road in front and behind us, and very time he looks back at the approaching police cars, we veer out of the lane.
“Dad!” Kylie shrieks as we veer onto the shoulder, bouncing along the rumble strips before returning to the road again. “We’re going to crash!”
“Slow down,” I tell him. “You don’t want to get your daughter hurt.”
“Shut up!” he yells. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
Then he turns to look behind us, sending us into the next lane again.
A horn blares.
Tires screech.
Harry grits out a series of curses as he wrenches the wheel.
The front bumper kisses the guardrail, and there’s a high-pitched tearing sound.
“FUCK!” Harry yells.
“Dad!” Kylie screams.
As we ricochet off the guardrail and across three lanes of traffic, my life flashes before my eyes.
Not just my past, but the future I’ve dreamed of—a life with Derek, with a house of our own and a puppy and even children, if we’re lucky enough to have them.
The wedding I’ve briefly let myself fantasize about, with Derek standing tall and handsome at the end of the aisle and me gliding towards him all dressed in filmy white.
Trips that we’d take together. Memories we’d make. All of it flickers by in an instant.
Then we slam into the guardrail that separates us from the Mohawk River below.
The airbag explodes in my face, stunning me.
A coppery taste fills my mouth.
Pain flares across my chest.
My nose feels like it’s broken.
But I’m alive.
Shoving the airbag away from my face, I twist in my seat to look for Kylie. To my immense relief, she’s still fastened securely in her seatbelt and appears to be unharmed. “Kylie,” I gasp. “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”
She stares at me for a second before replying, “I think… I’m okay. My chest hurts a little, though.”
“The seatbelt,” I assure her. “It just means it did its job.”
“What about…” Her gaze shifts to her father, who’s still slumped over the slowly deflating airbag.
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Honestly, I have no idea. And I can’t bring myself to care. But I don’t want to freak out poor Kylie, either.
She looks back at me. Tears swim in her eyes. “He didn’t used to be like this. When I was little, he was nice. Fun. But after the divorce, he was mad all the time.”
My heart wrenches at the sorrow in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Kylie.”
“He never hurt me, though,” she adds. “Mom said he’s sick. That he needs help. But that he—” Her voice cracks. “She said he still loves me a lot.”
“I’m sure he does,” I reply. Although his idea of love and mine are vastly different. “I have an idea, okay? I’m going to get out of the car and come around to get you. Then we can meet up with the police, they’ll find your mom, and they can get your dad the help he needs. How’s that sound?”
Kylie nods. “Okay.”
“Alright.” I unfasten my seatbelt and reach for the door handle. “I’ll just—”
The car lurches.
Something heavy and metallic groans.
Kylie shrieks.
For the first time since the crash, I look through the windshield.
I let out a horrified gasp.
The guardrail didn’t stop us. Not entirely, at least.
And now we’re dangling from it, with the river flowing beneath us.
“Emily?” Kylie whispers, sounding just as horrified as I am. “Is that the river?”
“Yes.” I bite the inside of my cheek hard, hoping the pain will ground me. “But it’s going to be okay. We’ll just stay still, and someone will come to rescue us.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. Before I can reply, she adds, “I’m scared. And I want my mom.”
“I’m sure,” I tell her. Because, really, what else can I say? “It’s going to be okay.”