by J E McDonald
Knuckles white on the steering wheel, she stared straight ahead as they headed back to Wickwood. Even on the way out of town, she’d been tense, like she didn’t enjoy driving, even though she’d insisted on it.
“Why did you want to leave that house?”
His voice made her jump. “Um.” She brushed a hand over her hair. “Finn told me to get out.” A nervous laugh tumbled out of her lips.
He studied her face, the color in her cheeks and the tension in her jaw. “How does he communicate?”
She cleared her throat. “He writes me messages in shiny surfaces. Short ones.” She swallowed. “He used a mirror to tell me to leave.”
“Why would he do that?” Not that he found fault in the ghost’s assessment, but he wondered what else the entity knew.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice subdued.
The front window fogged up, partially obstructing Aubrey’s view, and she gasped.
Right before his eyes, letters formed, like someone was using their finger to write with.
FAST…
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aubrey shouted at the window.
…ER
Roman twisted around. Bang. They were hit from behind, the sound reverberating in his head, the force jarring his bones.
Aubrey screamed, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as she tried to keep control.
Roman whipped around. The grill and headlights of a white van filled the back window as the vehicle came at them again.
“Hold on,” he said.
Bang. This time the vehicle hit them near the taillight, pushing them askew, sending them into a skid.
“Oh my God,” Aubrey shouted over the noise of the tires squealing. They started to spin.
Roman reached across, grabbing the steering wheel as the world blurred outside, a mix of green and gray and blue.
“Press the brake slowly,” he ordered, hoping Aubrey had enough in her to comply.
There was another muffled bang as they hit the ditch. Roman fought to control the spin, to stop them from doing a barrel roll into the one of the deep marshes next to the ditch. Weeds and bushes slapped against the undercarriage, and branches scraped the sides. Every jarring sound reverberated through the car, amplified. A flash of water came up on his right, then his left as he tried to steer them between two bodies of reed-filled wetlands. He kept twisting his head, trying to focus on a dry patch of land. The car slowed by degrees.
Finally, they jerked to a stop. The world around them stilled, the silence deafening after the chaotic sounds of the crash. Roman took his hand off the steering wheel, shifted into park, and scanned the outside for the white van. No sight of it. He returned his attention to Aubrey.
“Are you okay?” he asked, scanning her for injuries.
Her breaths coming out short and fast, she nodded once, then immediately shook her head. Shaky hands clawed at her chest.
“Shit.” He recognized the indicators of a severe panic attack. Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and opened his door, wading through the weeds and grass in front of the car. The highway on the other side of the embankment remained silent, the driver of the van long gone. Aubrey’s car completely faced the wrong direction, the back end nearly tipping into the one marsh. Too close.
Roman wrenched open the driver’s side door. A chalky hue colored Aubrey’s face, her eyes wide with fright as she tried to take a breath, her hands clutching her chest as if in pain. He unbuckled her seat belt and scooped her out, carrying her off to set her down on the grass at the bottom of the embankment.
“Deep breaths,” he said, setting her up so she put her head between her knees. “Count in and out.”
Hands by her ears, she shook her head. No change in her breathing. She was too far gone for counting to work, and she was going to pass out if she didn’t take a proper breath. Her hands cramped into rigid claws. How could he help her? The way she looked up at him, her eyes wide and panicked, tore a swath out of his chest.
Taking her stiff hands in his, he recalled a coping method called Five, Four, Three, Two, One. He cleared the constriction in his throat and tried to use a firm tone. “Look at five different objects. Say their names aloud.”
Her breaths were so short, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to, then she said, “Field,” the word coming out weak.
“Good. That’s one. Keep going.” He massaged the cramps out of her fingers.
“Sky.”
“That’s two.”
“Water.”
“That’s three.”
“Tree.”
“One more now.”
“Bush.”
“Perfect. Good job.” When she looked at him this time, her eyes had a little less panic in them. “Now hear four distinct sounds. Say them aloud.”
“Car,” she said.
The motor of her blue Civic still idled where it sat.
“Good. Another one.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Birds.”
“That’s right,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ears so he could see her face better. “Another one.”
“Airplane,” she said, opening her eyes.
Somewhere too high up for them to see, the distant rumble of a jet echoed across the plains.
“Perfect,” he said. The method was working, her breaths leveling out, the color returning to her face. “One more now.” Her fingers were relaxing in his. He moved one hand to stroke her back.
“Your voice,” she said. The coffee color of her eyes tore right through him. He couldn’t have looked away from her trust even if he’d wanted to. Something about her gaze held him mesmerized, frozen in place beside her.
“Good,” he said, swallowing. “Now touch three objects and say their names aloud.”
Flexing her hands, she curled them into the weeds poking up beside her hips. “Grass,” she said, pulling at them, her voice returning to normal.
“Another.”
“My jeans,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs.
“One more,” he said.
Her hand reached up to his face. As soon as her skin connected, the bright of her soul shot through him, almost blinding him for a moment before the color faded and he could see her again.
“Your cheek,” she said, her fingers light against him, creating shivers of awareness through his body.
He kept perfectly still when he said, “Good.” It came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “Now name two objects you can smell.”
Holding his gaze, she inhaled deep, and the breath came and went with minimal shaking. “Sunshine,” she said, her voice soft.
“Good.” He didn’t know how you could smell sunshine, but he wasn’t going to quibble over it when she was doing so well now. “One more.”
Her hand still cradled his cheek, and she shifted, leaning toward him until her nose brushed his throat. A new set of shivers ricocheted through his body, the sensation settling in his groin.
Inhaling deep, she let the breath out slowly, then did it again before she leaned back to look him in the eye. “Your skin,” she said quietly.
He nodded, unable to speak, then cleared his throat. “And the last one. Name one thing you can taste.”
Clear brown eyes went to his lips, and he could see where her mind headed. When her gaze flicked back to his eyes, a question beamed up at him.
“Take what you need,” he said, his voice cracking.
Hand still on his face, she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his. Then her tongue darted out, dragging across his bottom lip. He couldn’t stop the groan that emerged from his chest.
“Your lips.” The words grazed his mouth.
When he didn’t move, she shifted closer, her hip against his thigh, and touched her lips to his again. This time her hands gripped his shoulders.
He tried to stay still, to give her what she needed without taking, but his resolve lasted only seconds. She shifted into his lap, every one of her lush curves pr
essed against him. And when she moaned in the back of her throat, all the reasons why this was a very bad idea left his head. He kissed her back.
Mint on her tongue and the clean scent of strawberries in her hair—everything that was pure in the world. Everything he wasn’t. But he couldn’t stop himself from taking what she offered so enthusiastically.
Removing his glove, he touched her face, then ran a hand through the silky strands of her hair. They’d never broke contact, so he wasn’t blinded by her soul again. He just enjoyed the supple softness of her skin as he tilted her chin, her mouth opening so he could sweep his tongue inside.
She tasted so damn good. And with her arms wrapped around him, he wanted to keep her close. He wanted to bury his face into her neck, hold her tight, and never let go.
Her tongue tasting his, he ran his hands up and down her body, loving her curves, wanting to fuse to her. He broke the kiss to taste the skin below her ear. Every pant and moan that escaped her lips fired him up more. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, electricity running down his spine. Then she pressed his face to her throat, teeth teasing his skin.
When a semi-truck used his air brakes on the highway above them, Roman remembered where they were and why. His body stilled even though hers didn’t. He ran his hands up her arms to extricate them out of his hair. The fingers that dragged along his scalp created shivers through his shoulder blades. Each of her hands in his, he lifted his head, his lips skimming her jaw on the way by.
“You’ve had a scare,” he said against her lips. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
She pulled away, blinking. Her expression changed so fast it was like he’d splashed a bucket of cold water on her head. Her whole body stiffened, then she scrambled off him in record time.
But as soon as she got to her feet, she swayed.
He hopped up beside her a second later, his arm around her shoulders to steady her. “Careful, there.” She’d been hyperventilating moments ago, close to passing out. Instead of helping, he’d ended up kissing her. What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. He should have allowed her to take her taste and left it at that. He should have been able to walk away.
Instead, he made out with her in a ditch. Mentally, he kicked himself. He had no business kissing Aubrey Karle—in a ditch or otherwise.
“I’m okay,” she murmured, stepping away.
He picked his glove out of the weeds and shoved it back on.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked over to her car and sucked in a breath. “Someone ran us off the road.”
“Yeah,” he said, and he had a hunch he knew who. There hadn’t been a white van near the estate property, but there’d been a garage that could have housed it. His instincts were telling him to investigate, but he couldn’t leave Aubrey alone right now, and he wasn’t going to bring her along. He needed to get her somewhere safe.
And well away from him.
Still angry at himself for enjoying the kiss so much and wanting more, he turned away. “I’m going to see if I can get the car out, or if we need a tow.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. Promising himself a kiss between them would never happen again, he stomped his way through the weeds and grass to Aubrey’s car.
17
With her arms tight around her body, Aubrey stepped a safe distance away and watched as Roman walked around the car, pausing a moment at the broken taillight.
So close. She’d been so close to skidding into the marsh. It happened so fast, the world spinning around them, the sounds of squealing tires and crashing through the ditch. If it hadn’t been for Roman’s hand on the steering wheel, his calm voice in her ear as he guided her to a safe stop, she might have died.
The panic that had consumed her earlier started all over again, her chest tightening to the point where it hurt to breathe.
They could have landed in the marsh.
The car would have sunk under water.
They could have been trapped.
They could have drowned.
Closing her eyes, she imagined Roman’s face in front of her, talking her down from going over the edge. He’d been so gentle, so attentive, giving her focus in the spiraling sensation of her mind. She remembered how sure his voice had been next to her ear, the calm circles he’d rubbed along her spine. As she exhaled through her nose, the panic ebbed away and she opened her eyes.
Cars drove along the highway above, out of sight from where they were at the bottom of the embankment, some a few seconds apart, others minutes. Roman backed the car up a bit, almost where the tires were in the marsh, then went forward. Dirt sprayed out from the under the tires, but as he alternated between forward and reverse, he was gradually able to get the car away from the water.
The sight of him fighting the terrain with her car’s wheels created a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach. Ever since Lina and Charles died in a car crash, she’d known she would die the same way, just like her birth parents. Everyone she’d ever cared about, ever had a connection to, had died the same way, which made her believe she’d die that way too. Her therapist had told her how statistically unlikely it would be, but it hadn’t made Aubrey’s illogical fear disappear. That’s why she always needed to drive. She didn’t want anyone else in control of her death.
But she hadn’t thought she’d be driven off the road.
She hadn’t seen who hit them and couldn’t fathom the reason behind it. Road rage? Had she cut someone off? She’d been so focused on getting off the estate property, she didn’t even remember anyone else being on the highway with them when she’d pulled off the dirt road.
But Finn had known something. He’d told her to go faster. How had he known that? Had he seen the other car coming?
Driving forward and back, Roman drove the car up the embankment and turned it in the right direction. When he put it in park, Aubrey walked up from her spot in the ditch. She stopped outside the door, not even wanting to open it. She hated being a passenger so much. Her breaths were already shortening. If she wasn’t driving, she knew she’d die. Her therapist kept telling her it was an unfounded fear, but that didn’t make it go away.
Inside the vehicle, Roman frowned at her. She opened the passenger side door, but her feet weren’t moving. “I don’t do well as a passenger,” she said, trying to breathe through another bout of rising panic as cars continued to pass them on the highway. She pressed against the pain in her chest, willing it to disappear.
He swore, shut off the car, then hopped out, jogging around to her side. Her hand clenched on the door frame. She breathed in and out, counting slowly. With him watching her, his eyes filled with concern, she was able to get it under control.
“Sorry,” she said after a minute. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to drive either.” Her hands still shook.
“It’s kind of a long way to walk.”
His steady voice settled her, and she let out a short laugh. “Yeah. A bit.”
Taking one more deep breath, she exhaled slowly. Roman had been there for her, known what to do to make sure the crash hadn’t been worse than it was. He’d talked her through the panic and offered the wheel back to her despite everything. Aubrey swallowed her fear. “I think I’m okay to let you drive. I trust you.”
He examined her face, his eyes assessing and concerned. Taking a deep breath, she climbed in. He closed the door gently behind her. After securing her seatbelt, she dug her fingernails into the upholstery to hold tight.
Roman got in, his body turned toward her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
She nodded. “Yep,” she lied. “Let’s get it over with.” Dragging it out wasn’t helping. Maybe this would be okay.
After one last stare, he started the car. A quick shoulder check, then he pulled onto the highway. As he got the car up to speed, Aubrey kept expecting more panic to set in, but it didn’t. Maybe it had something to do with Roman driving a bit under the speed limit or the way he kept both h
ands secure on the wheel. Or maybe it had something to do with his innate steady presence. Or that he didn’t spark up conversation, his intent entirely focused on the road in front of him.
Whatever the reason, minute by minute, the tension eased from her shoulders, and she was able to let go of her death grip on the seat cushion.
But with that worry eased, her teeth started chattering. Why was it so cold in the car? She wrapped her hands around her body and realized her arms were shaking too.
Roman took his eyes off the road to scan her, then leaned forward to turn the dial on the heater to full blast.
“You’re in shock,” he said quietly. “Just breathe through it.”
She nodded her understanding, but it didn’t make her tremors lesson. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else.
Thoughts of their kiss flooded her mind. He’d told her to take what she needed, and she hadn’t been able to resist. Not with his face so close to hers, his blue and amber eyes focused entirely on her. He’d tasted of warmth, and his woodsy scent had filled her head. She hadn’t wanted the kiss to end, would have asked for more if he hadn’t reminded her they were on the side of the road.
After his rejection last night, she’d thought maybe he wasn’t attracted her. But with that kiss she’d felt his need, his hard length pressed up against her hip when she’d been in his lap. Felt it in the way he held her, his hands insistent as they’d stroked her.
So why had he told her he wasn’t the guy for her last night? He wanted her. When he’d told her to taste, he’d been exactly what she’d needed. Thinking about the kiss again made her entire body heat. She wanted another, one without the fear and panic of being run off the road consuming her.
With the memory warming her, her tremors slowly faded. “How did you know to do that?” she asked, clearing her throat. “The sight, sound, touch thing?”
His eyes slid to her a moment before they refocused on the road. “I used to have panic attacks when I was a kid.”
“And you don’t anymore?”
A small shake of his head. “No.”
More of her tension eased. It was possible to never have a panic attack again? Hope bloomed in her. Her therapist had always said it was possible if she honed her coping skills, but Aubrey had never believed it.
