Chapter 41
REED
Seattle, Washington
Age Thirty
Snaps of light flashed behind Reed’s eyelids. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils. A groan came from … somewhere.
Came from him.
Reed’s eyes flipped open to a spider web of glass. Tendrils of fog swirled beyond it as he pressed the pads of his fingers to his forehead and groaned. He struggled to remember what had happened, why his face was covered in … something sticky. Something warm.
Blood. The smell of iron hit him along with the harsh tang of burning metal. He’d been driving. It came back to him now; he’d been heading …
Where?
To the airport. He’d needed to get away. Was getting away when …
Oh god, Evelyn.
He cranked his head right with a wince—and he saw her. It was as if the entire world stopped in that moment. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears.
No, no, no, no, no, please, god, no.
He shot toward her and placed his hand on her cheek. It was already growing cold. A stream of blood creased her nose like candle wax. He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Look at me! Please, Evy, look at me!” he begged.
She didn’t. He already knew she’d never look at him or anyone else again. Not with the way her head rested on the dash in such an impossible angle. He had no doubt she’d broken her neck.
A sob crawled up his throat and he started hyperventilating. Why? Why had this happened? Why hadn’t her airbag gone off?
He couldn’t remember. They’d been driving one moment, arguing about something, and then—
His phone. She’d tried to get his phone. She’d leaped at him, and he’d shoved her off, right before they’d hit.
Hit … what?
Another car.
Ice filled his veins. Smoke rose in front of him through the splintered windshield—or was it the fog? He didn’t know. He eyed Evelyn again and bit off a sudden sob. He had to get out of the car.
Get out! Get out now!
The voice that screamed at him felt disembodied—like it was coming from someone other than him.
He fumbled out of his seatbelt and tried to open the door.
It wouldn’t budge. Go! Get out! Get out!
He pulled the handle and then rammed his shoulder into the door.
It didn’t budge, so he did it again. A bolt of pain surged up his arm this time, but it was enough.
The door swung open with a metallic bang!
And then he was tumbling out of the BMW and lurching into the wet blanket of mist outside.
His head swam as he spun a slow circle. Flashes of green farmland floated through the fog along with—
Oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus.
Crumpled blue metal.
Reed felt like he would come apart then, like he would disintegrate.
The sedan, or what remained of it, rested on its side at the base of an embankment beneath the shoulder of the road.
The entire length of the passenger side was a canyon of crushed metal.
Shards of glass littered the road and the grass.
Both the front and back windows were blown out, and through the front passenger side, Reed could barely make out what looked like a man’s face.
He hung in place, still strapped to his seat, perfectly motionless.
His head was cranked to the left and dangled in a way that obscured most of the driver.
All Reed could make out of the person was a single arm resting on the steering wheel, the fingers deathly still.
His gaze shifted to the backseat, and a moan bled off his lips.
The ground spun beneath him. There was a silhouette there.
A small, familiar shape that soaked him with dread.
No, he whispered. Lord, please, no.
It was a car seat.
But it was empty.
Reed exhaled long and slow, his legs going weak with relief.
He took a step forward to be sure—and he saw the child. A boy just past toddler age with his hair matted in blood, and his eyes dull and wide. He’d somehow been thrown free of the seat and sat wedged beyond it, near the door. The left side of his skull had caved in.
Reed turned away and choked back a mouthful of vomit.
A thought clawed through his panic, frantic and hot: Help him. He could still be alive.
But Reed already knew he wasn’t, none of them were. Not the child, not the people in the front of the vehicle. And not Evelyn. No cars had passed them yet, but they would any minute now. And when they did, he had to be gone, had to be anywhere but here.
He turned and took a single, lurching step away—and stopped. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. They would hunt him for this. Donald would hunt him. They would track him down unless …
Unless he painted a different picture.
Acid stung the back of his throat. He knew what he had to do.
Reed moved, his shoulder still tingling, his fingers numb as he stumbled back to the BMW and cranked the door wider.
You did this to me.
It was as if Evelyn was speaking to him with the empty look in her unseeing eyes, her skin nearly as pale as the fog outside. His vision instantly blurred. “I didn’t mean to,” he croaked. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
But it did, she said, and you’re the reason.
“No,” he mumbled, running the back of his hand over his face before leaning in and curling his arms beneath her armpits.
He heaved, and she came toward him, jerking to a stop before he could free her lower body from the crushing weight of the dash.
He tried again with the same result, her head flopping forward onto his shoulder this time when she caught, her hair skimming his cheek.
A scent filled his nose; something warm and woody.
The sweet must of ink and paper. The smell of books.
Tears burned to life in his eyes.
“Come on!” he shouted in anguish, tugging harder—“Come on! Come on! Come on!”—yanking until she finally came free with a wet, ripping sound.
He nearly tumbled back onto his ass but managed to catch himself then leaned in and forced Evelyn upright in the driver’s seat.
Things he couldn’t name cracked and popped inside of her.
In the distance, he heard the whoosh of rubber slicing over the road, coming closer.
Hurry up!
He took the seatbelt that had saved his life and roped it over Evelyn’s chest and clicked it home, then scrambled for his phone. It was jammed in the corner of the floorboard. He grabbed it and slid it into his pocket.
And then he stopped and stared at her. Everything melted inside of him. Every last bit of hatred he’d ever felt for a woman, every stinging abandonment and betrayal at their hands—it all liquefied and rushed away. None of it had been worth what he’d done to Evelyn. None of it had been worth this.
Never this.
“Livy … I’m so …” Reed’s voice cracked and whatever word he meant to say next snapped off in his throat.
What was it? Sorry? Sorry was such an insignificant word for what had just happened.
Sorry wouldn’t change what he’d done to her or the people in that car.
The kid and his parents who’d never take another breath. All of them dead.
Because of him.
He gazed at Evelyn. He looked into her lifeless eyes and felt his heart crack.
Reed knew he’d never come back from this.
The car was so close now—he could distinctly hear the engine. If he was going to go, he had to go now.
He moved, his knee clicking beneath him like a latch as he popped the trunk and seized his suitcase.
Then he ran. Every step hurt like hell. His entire body did.
But the pain was nowhere close to the anguish boiling in his chest. The shame.
It would never stop. He knew this. It would last forever. But it didn’t have to.
Of course, there was another way.
You can end this right here. You can stay and turn yourself in.
Reed wanted to. He did.
But he just kept running.