The Wrong Drive

Chapter 1

Emersyn

Thirty-two minutes to the cabin.

The radio blares an indie alternative song in my truck, and I tap my fingers against the steering wheel as I take in the desolate highway and snowcapped mountains in the distance. I check the time, knowing there’s a chance for heavy snow at some point today. So far, all there’s been is light flurries. It’s a good thing, considering my driving abilities in snow are questionable at best—and Adam didn’t feel like he could wait for me.

But…this is where my boyfriend grew up, and empathy isn’t exactly his strong suit. He can handle the weather, and therefore expects everyone else to do the same.

I frown slightly at the thought. Two weeks alone with him in the Colorado countryside is about to begin, all with the intent of resetting our relationship—or something. Things have been rocky at best, and Adam was intent upon spending the time alone, saying we could bypass the holiday stress.

On the upside, I might actually get a white Christmas for once, since Oklahoma rarely gifts us with those. As I come to an intersection, my GPS chimes, breaking my thoughts and directing me to take a right, heading further north.

My phone buzzes in the console, and the music pauses with the incoming call. I see my best friend’s name, which is surprising. She should be at work right now.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hey…” Catie’s voice has a drawl to it that I don’t like one bit. “Are you close?”

“Um, sort of. Thirty-ish minutes to go. Why? Is everything okay?” I glance up to the rearview mirror, seeing a truck a few miles behind me. It’s almost eerie, but the terrain is a beautiful mixture of desert peaks and mountains in the distance of southwestern Colorado.

“It is, but…I think we should talk before you get to the family cabin.” Something in Catie’s voice causes my stomach to sink, and I brace myself for the news as flurries turn to flakes.

“What is it?” I ask, eyeing the wet spots on the windshield growing. I hit the wipers, my heart thudding uneasily with the prospect of driving into bad weather.

“I was talking to Aaron, and well, I know the expectations you have for this trip…” Catie’s voice is suddenly very quiet, and I’m wondering what information she got from her husband—who also happens to be my boyfriend’s older brother.

I blow out a huff of air, and a strand of my natural caramel colored hair tickles my nose. “He’s not proposing, is he?” I brush it out of my face, my tone sarcastic. “Seriously though, I have zero expectations. It’s fine.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Em,” Catie urges. “I know it’s not fine. You don’t have to pretend like it is. I know you were hoping for something to change, and from what Aaron said, I don’t…” She pauses or a few beats and then sighs. “ Ugh , Adam told him he doesn’t think it’s going anywhere, and this is just his last-ditch effort to show everyone he tried. I wasn’t going to call, but?—”

“So, three years, and it’s not going anywhere?” I exasperate, shutting my eyes for a moment, just long enough to steady my pounding heart. I knew it. I knew this trip seemed out of left field, and here I was, assuming he was attempting to care. “He’s planning on breaking up with me, isn’t he?”

“He didn’t say that exactly ,” Catie says, her tone rushed.

“Well, but it’s not going anywhere,” I snap, shaking my head as the tears well up in my eyes. “I just took two weeks off unpaid for this.” I feel like such a freaking idiot right now. This whole thing was all for show—to convince the rest of the world it’s me not him.

“You can still go and enjoy it…” Catie’s voice takes on an air of false reassurance. “I mean, maybe it’s exactly what the two of you need, you know? It’s been a rocky year for y’all. Maybe it’ll change his mind.”

“Yeah, it’s been rocky because he never wants to answer my questions about commitment, and I’m tired of it. I’m thirty-one, not twenty-one. I’m over the games of men who don’t know what they want, and here he is, telling me this vacation—which is causing me to miss out on time with my own family—is to help us reset. Really, he just wants the world to think he’s the good guy before it’s over for good.”

“So tell him that?” Catie sighs, sounding borderline annoyed. “You can’t keep venting to me, and never telling Adam this stuff.”

“Right,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. She’s always trying to play neutral, given that she’s married into his family. “I’ll let you know how that goes.” My GPS chimes at me suddenly to turn, and I slam on the brakes, almost missing my left-hand turn. Shit. The truck behind me blares their horn, and I cringe, shaking my head at my inattention.

“He was drinking when he told Aaron,” Catie continues. “There’s a chance that it’s just more drunk Adam rambling. You know how he gets on the guys’ night out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I say. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come on this trip, and I definitely shouldn’t have assumed it might make things better.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Em. I didn’t know about it until Aaron met me for lunch today—and you’re my best friend. Which is why I’m telling you to think about yourself for once. You deserve better, and maybe… Maybe you should call off the trip.”

“So, you’re saying I should break up with him?” I laugh dryly. “I just drove twelve freaking hours straight to get here. You don’t think you could’ve told me this earlier?”

“I just found out,” she pleads. “I’m sorry, Em. I really am.”

I run my hand over my face. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault. The signs were there. I know that. It’s not like I’ve been all that great of a girlfriend either. I always have one foot out the door anymore. I’m over it.” Lies. I’m not entirely over it. A tear slips down my cheek as my vision grows blurry with more moisture.

Ugh. Using the sleeve of my sweater, I swipe at my eyes, smearing my mascara. The sick feeling of heartbreak is already slipping into my gut, and now I have to spend two weeks with a man who only cares about his image and not our three-year relationship.

“Maybe just talk to him,” Catie says softly, probably hearing my sniffling now. “And then just come home. You can spend the holiday with us if you don’t want to face your family right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” I mumble, turning down a gravel road.

The destination will be on the right in twelve miles.

“I’m almost there though. I’ll let you go.” I sniffle again, and then clear my throat as Catie and I hang up. It won’t do my any good to be upset when I arrive—even if I’d love to crash my truck right into the side of his family’s fancy getaway cabin.

The radio continues to blare, and I reach forward and punch the knob, turning it off. I’m not in the mood to hear anything anymore. I focus instead on the winding road, knowing good and well I’d be lost if it weren’t for Apple Maps. I’m tempted to pick up the phone and call Adam, confronting him right now about everything, but God knows what that might lead to—and there is supposed to be snow moving in.

I need to just get there first.

I force long, deep breaths for the next ten minutes, and as I come to an intersection, I stop, taking in the desolation once again. I’m used to the middle of nowhere, but this is unfamiliar territory, and uneasiness slips up on me as the snow swirls around my truck.

It’ll be fine. I’ll just leave when the weather clears.

Unless he apologizes? Maybe Aaron got it wrong?

I let that thought run around my mind, just long enough for me to realize that the GPS is still stuck on the twelve miles to go.

Oh shit.

I furrow my brow at the screen, sweeping up my phone and checking service. It’s minimal, but I do have a bar. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I unplug my phone from CarPlay and pull over to the side of the road. I fumble with it, exiting out of the directions and trying to reload them.

“What the hell,” I grumble under my breath as my phone screen freezes—and then won’t reload anything at all. I glance up, and as I do, my heart does a flipflop in my chest. It’s really coming now, and the visibility is suddenly minimal at best. I flip on my wipers as I try once more with my phone, growing more desperate.

Come on. I don’t want to have to call Adam.

But with my attempts working to no avail, I pull up my boyfriend’s phone number. I hit the call button and prepare myself for what’s to come.

“Hey babe, are you almost here?” His tone is painfully jovial, and I wish I could reach through the phone and punch him right in the freaking face.

“Yeah, I was—I am ,” I say, staving off the emotions with my current predicament. “I’m only like fifteen minutes away, but my GPS isn’t working for whatever reason.”

He chuckles. “Not surprised. The service is hit and miss out here. Where are you?”

“Uh, great question,” I sigh, pushing my hair out of my face again. “I made a turn onto a gravel road, and then it said I had twelve miles to go—I didn’t get the road name or anything.”

“Okay, so just clock it on your mileage. The gate is on the right-hand side of the road, and I think I left it open since it’s snowing. But you need to hurry. The weather is going to shit—and quick.”

I shift my half-ton truck into drive again and continue onward, grimacing as I break the news. “I’m honestly not sure how far past that point I’ve gone. I don’t know if I can rely on the mileage.”

He groans. “So you have no idea at all? What’s the last road you passed?”

I cringe. “…I don’t know.”

“Figures. So… Um, well,” he pauses. “If you’re on the county road, you should just continue west. Maybe start counting your miles now. The layout is kind of weird out here. There’s not a road every mile. When you get to the next intersection, tell me the road number, and I can help you get here.”

“Okay. It’s really snowing,” I say, biting down on my lip nervously as the wind whips around my truck.

“You’ll be fine,” he grunts with little empathy. “Worst case scenario put it in four-wheel drive and keep going. You’re close enough to make it.”

“Yeah.” I swallow the nerves pummeling me as the weather seemingly worsens with every passing second. I drive at a steady speed, ignoring the unnerving crunch of the snow under my tires. I can drive in mud or a downpour of rain, but snow and ice are not my forte. I’m from Oklahoma for heaven’s sake. It doesn’t snow all that much, and when it does… I just stay the heck home.

“Have you passed anymore roads?” Adam’s voice chimes in my ear.

“No,” I answer him flatly. “Though, I’m not sure I could even read the sign if I did.”

“You’re going to have to try and read it, Em.”

“I know,” I snap back at him. “I will.”

“You’ll be fine,” he hums with an air of annoyance. “Just keep driving and take a few deep breaths. It’s going to take a little bit for the roads to get unmanageable, and I have plenty of supplies here for us to wait out the blizzard.”

“Blizzard?” I echo him, surprised. “I thought you said it was just supposed to just snow.”

“Yeah, it’s Colorado, honey. Just drive.”

Keeping Adam on the line, I grit my teeth as press down on the accelerator. As I do, the back end of the truck spins out, and my heart jumps to my throat. Slow and steady wins the race. My palms begin to sweat, and I reach forward and turn down the heat in the cab.

At least the crappy weather is a distraction from the conversation we’re going to have when I get there.

“See anything?” he asks again.

I squint into the snow. “Um, it looks like…” I catch sight of what looks like a side road off to my left, but it’s nearly impossible to read the sign. Still, I squint, attempting to read the blur. “Ugh… Thirty-six, maybe?”

He’s silent for a second. “Hang on.”

I swallow hard. “Please tell me you know where I am.”

He huffs. “Of course, I do. I’m just figuring how much further you have to go. I don’t usually come in that way. I take the highway all the way to the turn off.”

“Why did my GPS bring me this way?” I think aloud, my voice tinged with my inner panic.

“It’s probably shorter, but the road sucks through there. It’s fine though, you only have about a mile and half to go. Start paying attention to the dash.”

“Right,” I glance down and then reset my trip to make sure I don’t miscount. “Got it. What’s the entrance look like again?”

“Black gate on the right side of the road. You can’t see the cabin from the road or entrance. It’s a fairly long drive, but you should be able to make it. If not, I’ll come get you.”

“Yeah, I should’ve left earlier,” I mutter as I watch the tenths of a mile tick by. “I should’ve just have come with you.”

“You’re the one who had the writing workshop, Em.”

I roll my eyes. “And you’re the one who wouldn’t wait for me.”

“Really?” he spouts off in a condescending tone, one that’s become a regular occurrence. “I told you I’d wait, and you said not to worry about it. I can’t read your fucking mind. I don’t have superpowers.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I swallow the hurt and notice as my trip hits 1.2 miles. “I should be getting close.”

“Great.”

I take a deep breath, and to my right, I see an entrance with a large black metal gate—but my heart sinks. “I thought you said the gate was open.”

He’s silent. “Is it a black gate?”

“Yeah, surrounded by trees,” I note through the whipping snow.

He sighs. “I may have shut it last night when I got in. It’s just out of habit. My parents don’t like it left open. You never know who might drive up. The isolation out here attracts strange people sometimes.”

My shoulders slump as I slow down and turn into the entrance. “I’ll open it then.” Snow is already creating drifts and I grab my parka from the passenger seat, psyching myself up for the brutal cold. I wriggle into it and leave the phone on the console as I sling the door open.

The wind slaps me across the face as it catches my door. “Holy crap,” I groan, forcing it closed before trudging to the gate. With freezing hands, I fumble with the dummy locked lock. I unwrap the chain, hanging it off to the side. I slide the bolt style bar, and push against the metal pickets to swing the gate inward. It gives with a wretched squeal, and I shove it open enough for my truck to fit through.

My feet are already freezing, and the bottom of my jeans are wet from the snow. I jog back to my truck and climb in, shaking off the cold. Forget this. Maybe I don’t like the snow.

I smash the gas as I pick up the phone. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“Sorry I didn’t open it. But I swore it was open.” His tone actually contains some remorse, and while it’s not a lot, it brings a little relief.

“It’s okay,” I say, once again putting the truck in park once I clear the gate. “Do you want me to shut and lock it?”

“Yeah, if you can. Like I said, you never know who might show up. Better to make it harder for someone to get in.”

“Yeah, I’m locking it,” I mutter, my mind humming with a repeat of all the true crime documentaries I’ve watched. I climb out once again into the elements, bracing against the wind. I shut the gate and then click the master lock shut all the way, no longer leaving it dummy locked. I return to the truck and pick the phone up as I shut the door. “Okay, well the chain is locked now.”

“Wait, what?”

“What?” I repeat it back to him, confused. “You just said to lock it, right? You never know who might show up…?”

“Honey…” Adam’s voice trails off in a way that makes me instantly nervous. “There’s no chain lock on the gate—just a slide on the inside. The Master Lock broke the last time my parents were here, and they just haven’t relaced it.”

I pause. “So… There’s not a Master Lock with a chain?”

“No…”

“So then what the fuck did I just do?” I exasperate. “I just locked myself in—wherever the hell I am.”

“Share your location with me,” Adam’s voice picks up a concerned tone. “I need to see where you are. I know most of the people around here…But there’s no one close to us with a black gate. You had to have gotten turned around or something. Maybe you entered the address wrong.”

My heart jumps with panic as the wind howls around the truck, rocking it. I reach for my phone and try to share my location with Adam, but the screen freezes. “It’s not working.”

“It’s probably the weather,” Adam says, his voice still calm. “Just drive up and tell them you got turned around. I can meet you there—wherever you are.”

I have no idea if anyone is even going to be there when I pull up. I don’t even know if this is a house. “I might as well just go home,” I blurt out as I squeeze my eyes shut, fear thrumming through my body.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Adam snaps. “Why would you leave? We’ve had this planned since summer, and for the record, you’d never make it out of here with the blizzard coming in.”

“Catie told me what you told Aaron,” I throw it out there, irritation, hurt, and frustration beating in my chest as I smash the gas and start the slight ascent into the trees.

“What are you talking about?”

“He said you told him this isn’t going anywhere—and that this whole two-week holiday alone is for everyone to think you’re trying to make things work with me.” I want to rip my hair out, knowing this is a terrible time to do this. I should’ve stayed quiet.

Because Adam sure as hell is.

I glance in the rearview as the lump grows in my throat. I can’t see the gate anymore, and I feel like I’ve been swallowed by the trees. My front tires bust through drifts as I continue, and as I careen forward, I finally spin out.

“I guess you’re not going to say anything to that,” I mutter, as I shift into four-wheel drive. “Cool.”

“There’s no point being like that,” Adam hits back. “I was drunk, and things have been a wreck between us. I am trying. You can’t listen to anything my brother says.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time to just throw the towel in,” I huff, rolling my eyes. God forbid he ever be the problem.

“Great. Whatever. Just call me when you know wherever the fuck you are. As soon as this shit clears, we’ll go our separate ways. Isn’t that what you want, Em?” I can hear the hurt in his voice as he hangs up the phone, and I toss it into the passenger seat…

Right as my truck gets stuck.