Chapter 29 Amy
I’ve been driving for what feels like hours now, and this road is going nowhere. I keep my eyes peeled for an exit, but the miles fly by and all I see is road and more road unfurling across the desert. What the hell?
I swerve to the side, kicking up dust as I go, and jump out of the car, shielding my eyes from the sun. I whip around. I have no idea where the hell I am. No signs. No cars. Nothing. Just sand and silence for miles to see.
I shudder. I should keep driving. I turn back to the car and freeze. That’s not mine.
Where’d my Pontiac go? What is going on?
My Firebird has vanished. Instead, a turquoise Ford Edsel is winking at me under the beating sun. A Ford Edsel? Nah. It’s only the lamest car ever made. I must be dreaming, I reason. This must be a nightmare.
I screw my eyes shut tight and slap at my face, bidding myself to wake up. I peel open one eye. The Ford’s still there. I try to scream, but nothing comes out.
Wake up, Hitman! Wake the hell up!
I crouch down and hold my head in my hands, when suddenly, there’s a bang vibrating through my entire body, and I’m back in the Ford—back on that never-ending road.
I slam down on the brakes and screech to a standstill. There’s that banging sound again—louder, this time—and before I know it, I’m back behind the wheel in a flash, racing down the road, and on and on it goes like a nightmare loop with no beginning or end.
I swing back to the desert.
SNAP.
I whip a U-turn to head back the way I came.
BANG.
I drop my hands to my lap. The facts are, I’m screwed—or stuck, more like. I fiddle with the radio, but it’s the same song every time. Some Disney shit.
Okay… If this isn’t a nightmare, then I’m guessing I must be in hell.
I hit the gas as hard as I can, and drive in a straight line for what feels like hours.
Time seems to be standing still; the sun high in the sky, never sinking below the horizon, and after a while, a sense of calm overcomes me.
It feels weird, but it feels good, too. Little by little, I give in to it, letting the peacefulness ripple through me, washing away my moods, making me forget how sad I am about my dad, how mad I am about… Lewis.
As soon as his name pops into my head, the landscape around me changes. Suddenly, trees are sprouting on either side of the road, the clear sky clouds over with blues and grays, and I know this place from somewhere; the ghost of a memory nudges at the edges of my mind.
The moment stretches long and thin, the scenery drifting by in slow motion, when suddenly I’m floating by a wreck. I hit the brakes, but they aren’t working. I glance in the rearview mirror. Something about that car crash is tugging at me.
Time speeds up again. And then the wreck reappears.
Followed by another, and another, until finally a light bulb flickers on.
That’s my Pontiac. Stop! My Firebird is lying there by the side of the road, upside down with its wheels spinning in the air, windows shattered, thick black smoke rising from the battered hood.
Next to it is a man. He watches as I cruise by, trying to wave me down.
Lewis!
I slam on the brake, desperate to find out what happened to my car, but nothing happens. The Ford just glides on by, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t open the door. I can’t unfasten my seatbelt. Suddenly, that delicious sense of calm seems a whole universe away.
I can’t breathe. My lungs are tight and dry, there’s a weight bearing down on my chest, a heaviness crushing my skull. My vision narrows as dark spots blossom before my eyes, and just as I’m about to pass out, a shadow overtakes me.
My Pontiac… It’s right there in front of me, so close I could touch it.
I smile. It looks good—not a dent or scratch in sight.
Suddenly, the banging I heard earlier blasts through my eardrums. Glass shatters all around me as the Pontiac fishtails, flipping over and over, my heart catching in my throat with each new bounce, until it rolls to a stop upside down.
I scream.
This time, I can hear myself.
It’s the last sound I hear before the darkness unfolds around me and the world is blanketed in silence. For a moment, it feels as if I’m floating.
And then I come crashing down to the ground.
“Can you hear me?”
What the…
Cotton in my ears. Velcro over my eyes. My body weighs a ton.
“Ms. Hitman…? Can you hear me?”
Try as I might, I can’t open my eyes.
“She’s coming around.”
That voice again…
I can’t answer. I can’t say a single word. Tiredness comes crashing down over me like a sledgehammer, and I drift off to sleep.
A LIFETIME LATER, A DOOR opens somewhere in the distance, and this time I muster up enough strength to peel open my eyes, squinting against the bright, white light.
“Welcome back, Amy.”
I turn my head. Why is she yelling? There’s a woman standing there, roughly my age, wearing a nurse’s uniform. I don’t understand. Everything is muddled in my head. Where am I?
“How’re you feeling?”
“Please,” I mumble. “Please can you not yell?”
She smiles at me and reaches for my arm.
I look down. There’s a drip strapped to me. I frown.
“You’re in the hospital,” the nurse says kindly. “You were in an accident. Do you remember?”
An accident? Scenes flood back in snatches, fragments of ragged memory. The speed of it all. Lewis yelling out my name, telling me to stop. A tire bursting, the car skidding over, lifting up, hitting the ground, and…
I nod, craning my neck to assess the damage. My right foot is lifted, and there’s a pounding behind my eyes. I wince, lowering my head back onto the pillow.
“How bad is it?”
“Your leg’s fractured. Two broken ribs and a concussion. Your elbow is a little swollen, but it’s in one piece, at least,” the nurse adds.
“Okay.”
She stares at me, waiting for me to bombard her with questions, but I don’t have the strength for anything more.
“You’re very, very lucky.”
She gives my shoulder a gentle pat, and I flinch inwardly from the physical contact. I don’t even have the strength to shrink back. She seems nice enough—and I’ll need to keep her sweet if I want a steady supply of painkillers.
“You have visitors, by the way.” She smiles. “I told them to wait a while. Should I tell them to come up, or do you want to try and get some more sleep?”
I glance at her. “How long have I slept?”
“Around forty-eight hours.”
I slowly blink my eyes. “Who’s here?”
She flips open her notebook. “Your sister, your stepsister-in-law, and your two boyfriends.”
She waits a beat before looking up at me, her eyes shining.
My what now?
“Concussion or no concussion, I’m telling you now—I don’t even have one boyfriend.”
“That’s what your sister said, but the two guys seem to have other ideas. We had to get security involved.”
“You are kidding me!”
“It really was something. Between you and me, I’d go for the taller one,” she whispers. “Lewis, right?”
I muffle a groan. My headache just got way worse.
“So… Who should I send in first?”
“Just my sister and her wife,” I say.
A minute later, and my hospital room is plunged into chaos as Raven and her impossibly swollen belly come marching in. I peer up at her, expecting to get my ass kicked, but her face is drawn and pale.
“Honey, I was so, so scared…”
She strokes my hair, her eyes filling up, and when she tries to pull me in for a hug, it’s so awkward. I can feel her tears wet against my forehead.
“Somebody help me…”
“Easy, Ravy!”
I look up. Tears are brimming in Charlotte’s eyes, too.
“You guys look like shit,” I croak.
“You look fugly as hell,” Raven manages through her sobbing.
“What day is it?”
“Saturday.”
“Where’s Joey?”
“With RJ—he promised to show him how to pull a radiator apart.”
“Lucky son of a bitch,” I mutter. “I had to wait way longer for Dad to show me!”
I should’ve known Dad’s name would trigger her now.
Raven bursts into tears again. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”
“What can I say?” I can feel myself welling up. “I’m a survivor.”
I can’t even imagine how she must have felt when she heard about the crash. If the roles were reversed, I’d have been destroyed.
“Don’t you ever put me through that again, Amy Hitman!” She pulls out a chair and sits by my bedside, clasping my hand in hers. “I’m sorry for everything I said last week. Esteban told us what happened with that asshole at the bar, and I feel so guilty for lashing out at you like that.”
“Just breathe, Raven. Think happy, vagina-opening thoughts.”
She starts laugh-crying again. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear. As soon as you get out of here, I’m gonna make you the center of my world.”
I shudder. “Let’s hope they keep me here for a good few years, then.”
“You feeling okay?” Charlotte asks.
“I feel like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me. And like I need water.”
I shuffle up to a seated position and take the plastic cup from her.
“The surgeon is feeling good about your leg.” Raven nods at my cast. “PT should get you up and walking again in no time.”
“That’s great.”
“It could’ve been so much worse. You were driving really fast…”
“I know. I fucked up.”
Lewis had cut me to the core, and I wasn’t thinking straight.
I could have killed myself—or worse still, somebody else.
That was fucking irresponsible. How could I lose my shit that badly?
This whole situation ended up going way too far, and I’ve learned my lesson the hard way.
That wasn’t love. That isn’t what it means to love—pushing yourself to the brink of self-destruction like that.
“We’ll be right back. We’re just gonna go grab some food.”
Charlotte shoots Raven a meaningful look, and my sister nods eagerly, before leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead. I do my usual scowl, but deep down, my body is desperate to be held. Shit must be really bad if I’m craving hugs, now.
As they step through the door, voices echo down the corridor.
“All clear,” I hear Raven say.
Who’s she talking to?