27. Laurene
CHAPTER 27
Laurene
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on Reese as he moved around the room, pulling on his shirt.
I lay there, naked beneath the sheets, watching the way the fabric stretched across his shoulders as he buttoned it up. He glanced over, catching me staring, and a lazy smile spread across his lips. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“You’re supposed to still be in bed,” I countered, sitting up. The sheet slipped from my chest, baring me to him. His green eyes darkened, and his smile faltered, replaced by something hungrier.
In two strides, he was at the edge of the bed, kneeling before me, and I inhaled sharply when his mouth enclosed around my left nipple, hot and damp and gently pulling. Just as quickly he released me.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered.
His fingers traced slow circles along my waist. “I have to head into the office. More discussions about the missing funds, more excuses, more bullshit.”
I leaned back slightly, my hands braced against his chest, my lips brushing his ear. “You’re leaving me here, all alone? ”
His hands tightened on my hips, his breath catching as he pulled back just enough to look at me. His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower, lingering shamelessly on my breasts.
“You’re not playing fair.”
“So?” I shot back, my nails grazing the edge of his collar. Then, with a growl of frustration, he pressed his forehead to mine.
“You’re going to make me late,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine, but he pressed a quick kiss on my lips that left no room for protest. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back later.”
I huffed out a breath and flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as I heard him shuffle around the room before quietly closing the door. The house was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the ocean breeze outside. I spent all day rearranging furniture and de-bachelorizing Reese’s home, in Gigi’s words, to make it ours. The sharp chime of the doorbell interrupted me.
Anxiety washed over me.
Nobody had called me. And we hadn’t ordered anything that would get here this quickly.
I lowered the painting, cautious, and running to the kitchen, I grabbed a knife.
Tightening my grip on the handle, I made my way to the front door. Peeking through the peephole, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease, only to be replaced by confusion.
Jennie.
I hadn’t really spoken to her since the wedding dress fiasco at the spa. Here she was, standing on my porch, holding what looked like a bottle of wine wrapped in a ribbon. Opening the drawer to the entry table, I dumped the knife, before exhaling deeply and opening the door. “Jennie?”
“Hi, Laurene. I hope I’m not bothering you?”
Her blue eyes were watery and nervous. Immediately the sympathetic part of me felt guilty. Jennie might have been a bit insensitive that day, but she wasn’t a bad person. She hesitated, holding up the wine like a shield .
“I, uh, brought this. As a peace offering. For…you know, everything. Housewarming gift?”
“Thanks,” I said finally, taking the bottle from her. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I really am sorry about the spa. About the wedding dress. Reese talked to me about it, and I’m so stupid! I was out of line. And I just… I hate that we haven’t talked since. I don’t want to be that sister-in-law you hate,” Jennie blurted out.
“Really, I forgive you. Let’s just forget it, okay?”
She looked relieved and then she glanced past me, into the house. “Is Reese around?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He’s at work.”
Jennie’s face fell slightly, and she took a step back. “Oh. Well, I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to say?—”
“Wait.” The word escaped me before I could think better of it. Jennie froze, her hopeful eyes meeting mine. I cleared my throat. “Actually, I need to return some sheets in town. Would you mind giving me a ride? With everything I just still haven’t bought a car?—”
“Of course! I’d love to.” Her expression brightened instantly. “My friend owns a dealership over in Monterrey, how about we go there after and see what he has?”
Her energy was infectious. I nodded, slipping back inside to grab my things. With everything going on, I needed to keep all my friends close.
Jennie was waiting for me in front of her sleek silver car. I offered to drive, but she waved me away to the passenger seat. Once inside, Jennie chatted animatedly about her baby shower theme.
“I think I want to go with something calming, like soft greens or blues,” Jennie said. “What do you think?”
“Definitely calming,” I agreed. I glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed a car behind us. At first, it didn’t register as anything out of the ordinary. I shrugged it off and returned to our conversation about baby shower decorations .
After ten minutes, I glanced back again. The car was still there, closer now.
“Do you see that car behind us?”
Jennie looked back. “Maybe they’re heading into town too?”
The car’s dark, metallic sheen seemed to absorb the dimming light made it ominous. I leaned closer to the window, trying to see who was in it, but the tinted windows made it impossible to see the driver.
She flicked on her turn signal, moving into the opposite lane. But the car slowed too, hovering behind us.
We drove on, the engine’s hum swallowed by the pounding in my ears. The car behind us didn’t fall back. Didn’t turn. Didn’t stop. I glanced back again, pulse hammering. The driver was leaning forward now, like they were watching us, but I still couldn’t make out a face.
“I think they’re getting closer,” I said.
Jennie’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and car jerked slightly as she adjusted her grip. “Are you sure?”
Our car sped up and she moved back into the opposite lane, the car merged right along with us and sped up until they were right on our bumper.
“Maybe we should turn off somewhere?” I suggested, glancing down the road.
“There should be a gas station up ahead. Let’s just get there.”
Jennie turned right at the bend in the road, and the car followed.
“Shit,” I muttered.
Jennie glanced back, and she just nodded anxiously. “Just stay calm, okay?”
But the car behind us didn’t back off. Instead, it surged forward, pulling alongside us. My heart leaped as Jennie swerved trying to put distance between us, but the car pressed in, unyielding. Jennie laid on the horn, and my hand shot out, grabbing the armrest as the car beside us surged forward, its engine roaring louder .
“Just get us out of here,” I told her.
She sped up, but the road seemed to narrow to one lane and both cars edged dangerously close to one another.
Then—
The roar was deafening as the car shot forward, veering into our lane and slamming on its brakes.
I screamed. Jennie slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision as she jerked us back into the opposite, oncoming lane.
“I’m calling the police!” I said.
There was another curve in the road, and Jennie slammed her foot down on the gas, trying to get back over. From the fog and rain early this morning, I could feel the tires screeching, fighting for grip on the slick asphalt. My fingers scrambled for my phone, my breath coming in ragged bursts.
Then, without warning, the black car lunged forward, its front end ramming into us with a stomach-turning thud .
My body was thrown to the left, and the car’s metal groaned. Jennie screamed, we swerved. The tires shrieked, fighting to hold on.
The car roared, its engine screaming, before slamming into us a second time.
We lurched, bouncing over the uneven ground as we veered onto the gravel shoulder. Ahead, the road split—our chance to lose them. But my phone slipped from my hand from the bouncing, falling to the floor with a clink .
“Just keep us on the damn road!” I gasped, forcing myself up and reaching blindly under the seat, my fingers scrambling for the phone.
Jennie made a sharp snap to the right, tires screeching as we barely missed the guardrail, the metal flashing by just inches from our side. The other car pulled back for a moment, but it didn’t slow down—it roared forward again.
“Why aren’t they slowing down?” Jennie’s voice cracked, her hands shaking as she glanced back, panic flooding her eyes. “What the hell are they doing?”
Before I could answer, my fingers found my phone, the black car surged forward, crashing into us, ramming the back of the car with a force that threw us violently forward. The whiplash knocked the breath from my lungs, and I screamed, my heart racing as I clutched my phone tightly.
Bam!
We took another hit, and Jennie was crying and screaming loudly. “They won’t stop!”
Jennie swerved, left, then right, but the black car stayed with us, ramming us again, harder this time, throwing us sideways. I could make out only the silhouette of the person.
We skidded. My stomach lurched as the back end of the car slid to the side, nearly dipping into the ditch. My hands were shaking as I attempted to unlock my phone. The car groaned, burning rubber filling the air. The world around us seemed to tilt, the road narrowing as the black car pressed closer, faster.
I held my breath, gripping the seat, eyes flicking between Jennie and the rearview mirror, praying we could break free, as I pulled up keypad.
And then it happened— wham!
We spun out.
Time slowed down. I saw nothing but a blur—trees, road, sky—all of it spinning together in a dizzying whirl. We smashed into the guardrail with a appalling crunch . Thoughts left my brain. The impact threw me hard against the seat belt, my body snapping forward before slamming back into the seat. We careened toward the trees.
“No!” I screamed.
The crash was deafening—a violent roar that shattered the air and sent shards of glass raining down. I felt the car crumple around us. A piece grazed my cheek, the sting barely registering beneath the roar of blood rushing in my ears .
The car became a blur of twisting metal and shattered glass as it rolled, tumbling end over end. My body was thrown violently from side to side, every crash slamming me harder against the seat belt. My ribs ached, my breath knocked out of me.
My head slammed into the window, pain exploding through my temple. The world spun out of control, my stomach dropping with each dizzying roll. I tasted blood, metallic and sharp, filling my mouth, my pulse pounding in my ears as we continued to tumble.
My body jerked again as the car made its final, jarring stop, tilted against the trees, the engine sputtering like it was gasping for breath.
For a moment, there was nothing but the eerie silence that followed. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning rubber and scorched metal. My lungs burned as I sucked in air, the taste of smoke and blood coating my throat.
I coughed violently, trying to focus, but my head was spinning, the dizziness pulling at me like gravity had doubled.
“Jennie!” I called. “Are you okay?”
I touched my head and I pulled my hand back to see it smeared with blood.
“Jennie!” I said again, turning to her.
She was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious.
I fumbled with my seat belt, my fingers numb and clumsy. The belt finally gave way, my hands trembling as I reached for the door handle, but before I could move, a sharp pain shot through my side. I winced, gritting my teeth against it.
I pushed the door open with all my strength, the metal creaking in resistance, and slid out, collapsing to the ground. I pushed myself up, and then I saw it.
The other car, speeding away.
I squinted through the haze. I couldn’t make out much, but a faded sticker caught my eye: a star peeling off the back window as it disappeared down the road.
The baby .
I rushed to the driver’s side, hands shaking as I yanked the door open. My fingers fumbled over the seat belt latch. Finally, the latch clicked. The belt slackened, but when I tried to pull Jennie free, the dashboard pressed her down, trapping her.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice echoing in the stillness. “Somebody, please help us!”
I pushed and pulled at the twisted metal, every movement sending jolts of pain through my body, but Jennie was there and faintly breathing. The smell of gasoline mingled with the smoke, and I knew we didn’t have much time
Luckily, the crash busted the trunk open, and among Jennie’s knickknacks lay a heavy metal tire iron. I wedged it between the dashboard and the wreckage and gritted my teeth, pushing down with all my strength.
The metal shrieked in protest, but I kept pushing, using every ounce of energy I had left.
With a final, desperate heave, the dashboard shifted enough to free Jennie’s legs.
Dropping the iron, I pulled her out, dragging her away from the car, and we collapsed onto the ground. My breath came in ragged gasps, but I needed to make sure Jennie was okay.
I forced myself to my knees, and I saw the blood between her legs.
Jennie needs to live. The baby needs to live.
I hurried back into the car, looking inside for my phone, and relief flooded me when I found it in the back seat and saw it had connected with the operator. I picked it up, hearing a voice on the other end.
“We’ve been in a car accident,” I yelled, not knowing if someone was there. “My friend is pregnant, and she’s bleeding. Please, we need help!”
“Stay calm, ma’am. Where are you?”
Relief flooded through me. I looked around, telling the dispatcher everything. I dropped the phone beside me, keeping the line open as I returned to Jennie’s side. Her breathing was shallow, and I laid my hand against her belly, hoping to feel some sort of life there.
“Hang on, Jennie,” I whispered, even as my own vision danced. “You’re going to be okay.”
Reese…
I heard sirens far off, then felt relief as the flashing lights appeared. I tried standing as paramedics rushed over; then, darkness.