by S. N. Garza
The car in front of me turns on the lights. Bright LED lights too. This slow motion begins when I see the car ram into the back of the Jeep. It careens to the side but manages to get back straight. Then once again, the car rushes upward and pushes the Jeep straight off the road, flipping over the guardrail, and I see it tumbling down.
“Oh, my God.” I grip the steering wheel, knowing I should stop and check on them, but also knowing the person who did it will get away with it if I don’t follow them instead. Fuck… FUCK! What am I going to do?
I call the only person I can think.
“Want my dick tonight, princess?”
“Shut up, Lock, this is an emergency.”
“Tell me everything.” The douchebag’s teasing voice turns granite hard in a split second. He knows I don’t call him. For anything.
“I— I need you to call an ambulance up on the hill towards the George house. Someone just ran a Jeep off the road.”
“Jeep? A black one?”
“What does it matter?!” Why is he asking stupid questions like that?
“That’s Marcus Saint’s car.”
Marcus Saint? “Why was he leaving the George house?”
“Saint handles the George estate and all his businesses. Where are you? You didn’t stop?”
“No, I—
“Don’t fucking stop. Where are you?”
“Following the car that did it.”
“I swear to Christ you better not be doing something stupid, woman. Hold on, Gabriel’s on the other line.”
Hold on? Oh, God. I hate this fucking hill. It’s a five mile stretch of road that is nothing but winding roads with dangerous ass cliffs like the one we just passed. I look at the car in front of me and holy shit. The car is speeding up. Shit. They probably know I’m following. Oh, God.
“LOCHLAN, HURRY UP, YOU ASSHOLE!”
I hear a click and then Lochlan’s voice quickly says, “Willow is in that car with him. Really bad shit just went down. You still following? Give me the license plate.”
“It’s too far and I think they noticed me.”
“Fuck. Ragan?”
“What?”
“Stop. That. Car.” There’s a deadly calm in his voice that frightens the shit out of me. Stop the car? He can’t be serious.
“What do you mean, stop the car?”
“Run it off the road. Just like they did Willow and Saint.”
I can’t believe Willow… no. They’re okay. They have to be.
“Did you tell Gabe?”
“No. If they’re both—no, I didn’t.”
“Both what? Dead? Oh, God. I don’t think I can breathe.” I can’t keep the hysteria out of my voice because yeah, I never really liked having friends, but Willow’s alright. She’s… turned into someone I trust. And I don’t trust easy. I don’t need to get out of breath either.
Fucking asthma.
“Yes, Ragan. You need to breathe. Now is not the time to go into one of your panics, princess. I’m leaving now with Judas and Duncan— what the? Worsch, what the fuck you doing here?”
I don’t hear what’s being said, but I’m pressing down on the gas. Gaining on whoever is ahead of me.
“Ragan? You there?”
“Yes. I’m close.”
“Give me the plate numbers.”
I read them off just when the car starts swerving back and forth, driving wildly. And I know the slippery roads are getting to be too much for both our cars because mine too slides a little and a scream rips from my throat.
“RAGAN!”
“I’m here, I’m skidding. The roads are wet as hell up here.”
“Breathe, princess. You can do it. What, Dun? Who? Shit. Ragan? That’s Britney Hanley’s car. Gabe’s aunt and Willow’s missing coach.”
“I know who she is, asshole. I don’t think I can do that. She could die. We both can!”
“Now who gives a fuck what happens to her. And you won’t, Ragan. I promise you.”
“You can’t possibly know that! You’re not here!”
Oh, fuck. I feel a panic attack slowly beginning to wash over me. My eyes go blurry and I know what it’s a precursor to. A freaking asthma attack.
“Ragan, I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Ask me that again in a few months, Ragan. You’re not ready for that answer.”
“I don’t want an answer anyway, douche.”
Willow’s coach has been missing for weeks. Why is she back all of a sudden? Why’d she run them off the road? I don’t understand why she hates Willow so much. Or was it Marcus she’s trying to hurt? I mean, she’s his sister-in-law. He’s been coaching them and doing a great job. He’s even been enjoying himself. What the hell is going on?
“Tell her to flash her lights at her. Make her stop.” I hear Alann’s voice in the background but Lochlan snorts.
“Ragan, do as I say, princess.”
Run her off the road. That’s what he said.
“What if—
“Ragan Elouise, do it.” Ragan Elouise? Oh, God, I don’t like it when he calls me that and just when I'm about to say something, he says, “Do it and don’t stop until you’re down the mountain. We’ll meet you at the entrance.” I hear him breathing hard as if he’s walking. “Listen to me. You have a grill on that vehicle. Do it. Make it down the mountain and I’ll take care of the rest.
“Lochlan.” I know how scared I sound, and he hears it.
“This is what I do best, Ragan. Just… be safe.”
Then I hear a click and all I see is the car in front of me, swerving back and forth and suddenly, this anger fills me. What if Willow is dead? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t avenge her. And Lochlan is right. If I went back to check on them, this bitch will be long gone.
I don’t fucking think so. I push the pedal to the ground and charge her car, trying to keep balance as the road begins to curve again. I hit her car on the corner as we both try and make the turn, but I let out an angry roar and press on the gas, sending the little car flipping over the steel guardrail, crashing, tumbling down the side of the road. I manage to get on the straightaway and brake hard. I race out the door until I get to the bent railing and watch as Coach Hanley’s car rolls down the grassy hillside until it’s stopped by crashing into a line of trees. I jerk back, terrified. Then I hear something laying on the horn and a part of me wants to go check it out, but then whatever happens, I don’t want to be here. I probably just killed her.
My stomach rolls, and I feel bile surging upward, but I hold it in, I can’t get sick here. I race back to my truck, get inside, and drive as normally as I can, all the while, freaking the fuck out. I just killed Coach Hanley. She’s dead because of me.
When I get to the bottom, I see Lochlan’s truck turning onto Grifton Lane. I slam on my brakes just as he does and he’s out the door and racing to me. I get out, but my legs turn to jelly. But he’s there. Catching me. I know how I look. Scared shitless.
“I killed her. I killed her, Lochlan. I know I did. Oh, my God. I think I’m going to be sick.” I cover my mouth once again when he pushes me back, cups my cheeks in his hands.
“Fuck, you’re white as a sheet, princess. I got you. You’re okay. Oh, thank God, you’re okay. Judas, Duncan. Take her car to the house and take that grill off.”
“Lochlan.” I say, but nothing comes out.
“Shh. We need to go.”
Then sirens wail in the background.
“Fuck! Someone called.”
Judas is already in my car as Lock yanks me to his truck, picks me up and throws me inside. “Hide. Drive down into the hill and shut everything off.”
“Fuck.”
He doesn’t hesitate though as the three cars back down into the hillside, then it all goes dark. It’s only by a miracle and the safeness of this street that has no lamps whatsoever, so its pitch fucking black, that an ambulance and several cop cars drive past us unnoticed.
“Lochlan. What if—
“Not right now. We need to get out of here and to the house. Need to make it look like we’ve been there the whole time.”
“What if I killed her?”
“I’ll fuck the guilt out of you. That nasty cunt deserved what she got.” He picks up his phone and dials someone. “Alann, get to our house.” He hangs up and calls someone again. “Yeah.”
Gabriel.
“Someone ran them off the road.”
“WHAT? Tell me. Did… they—Willow. I—
“Calm the fuck down. You won’t be any good to her dead yourself if you don’t make it back in one piece. Where are you?”
“45 minutes out. I’m going straight to the hospital. They’re never going to find who did this.”
“Britney.”
“As in my mothers sister, Britney? What? How did—
“Later. Right now, if anyone asks you, you called us and told us to meet you at the hospital. I called Ragan. She called Alann. Heard?”
“Yeah.” Gabriel immediately understood and then, a sound I never thought I’d hear from Gabriel, echoed through the silent car. “Lochlan—
His voice breaks and even something inside me quakes. Because yeah… what if?
“Willow’s strong. She loves a douchebag. And that takes incredible strength.”
And Lochlan turns to me, this dark, fathomless look in his light blue eyes. What does he think? I love him? Never in a million years.
Twenty-nine
Gabriel
I can’t get to the hospital fast enough. I run into the entrance and go straight to the desk when I hear my name being called.
I turn and see Lochlan coming towards me. “Where is she?”
My father, I could care less about. There’s only one person on my mind. “She’s in the operating room. I drove up towards the hill and passed the accident to make it look like I was taking Ragan to her grandmother’s, the only cover I can come up with for the reason we’re all here now. Ragan called Worsch, I called you, and the guys. Everything else, we can discuss later outside these four walls.”
“And her?” Lochlan has his dead eyes on, and I know he did something stupid. “Jesus.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s not an issue anymore. For now, let’s focus on your girl and dad.”
“Right now, I couldn’t give two shits about him. Willow...”
“Is in the operating room and even though he had a few cuts and a lot bruising, your dad is okay and getting stitched up.”
“Fucking figures he’d be okay.”
“Maybe you ought to call your mother.”
“Why? It’s not like they give a fuck about each other.’
“Gabriel.”
“Lochlan.”
“I know. Come on, Ragan and the guys are in the waiting room.”
I follow him to where the guys, Alann, and Ragan are waiting and looking at Ragan, she’s pale and huddling into herself as if she’s about to pass out. When she looks up, tears fill her eyes and Lochlan curses, pushing passed me.
“Ragan,” he says and pulls her into his chest and lets her cry it out.
When she finally pushes back and looks at me, she says, “I’m sorry I didn’t go back. I’m sorry. Maybe it could—
“Ragan. There’s nothing anyone could have done. It’s in the past.”
“But—
“Do you feel guilty, princess?”
Ragan wilts and I can see the emotion in her eyes. Outside of being upset about Willow’s condition, what’s got her all in a hysterical state? I shouldn’t belittle her feelings, but Lock’s got his girl in his arms. Me? Mine is on a slab, having whatever it is they’re doing to her. This hot, burning feeling sears into my chest.
I can’t lose her. Why? Why did she go to him and not tell me? Of course, he wasn’t going to tell me. He has so many fucking secrets, it’s ridiculous. I don’t like this waiting around shit.
>><<
Three hours later, we finally hear something.
And of course, it’s from my father. He walks in, a little banged up, and all I want to do is go to him and put him permanently in a wheelchair.
Luckily though, Luke Mason shows up, pale, and frantic.
“Willow’s here?”
Father looks all around and says, “She just got out of surgery. She had a brain hemorrhage from the accident.”
Ragan gasps and I hear a sob come from her and in my peripheral, she shoves her arms around Lochlan, who lets her cry into his chest.
“Surgery? What did that bastard do? What the fuck happened?” Luke asks looking at all of us.
“Someone ran us off the road coming down the mountain.”
Luke physically looks ill as tears glisten in his gaze. “Is she—
“She had some swelling, which the doctor had to alleviate, but it—,” His voice cracks and his eyes close as if he’s in severe pain.
“Dad?”
“She stopped breathing.”
“WHAT?” Everything inside me left. I don’t remember Judas or Duncan lifting me off the floor, but suddenly, I’m sitting down, and my head is shoved between my legs.
“Breathe, Gabriel. She’s not gone. Or else that would have been the first thing he said.” Luke says, but it doesn’t matter. She stopped fucking breathing. She left me. Even if it was for a moment.
I can’t help looking up into his eyes and knowing that he’s the reason why she’s here in the first place.
“I hate you.”
Father doesn’t look any different though. Of course, he doesn’t give a shit. He never did anyway. I yank away from Luke and stand up, done with this bullshit. I go right up to him and he doesn’t back down as I get close enough. “What room?”
“She’s being—
I grab his shirt collar and I don’t care if he’s hurt or not. My life is in a room all alone. Never again. “What. Fucking. Room?”
I know he sees the deadly look in my gaze from the sigh he lets out and says, “412.”
I shove him back and walk out of the room. Nothing else matters. Nothing but getting to the girl of my dreams. The girl I’ve fallen truly, madly, deeply in love with. How could I let this happen? I never should have left. I should have been there with her and been there when she met that sick son of a bitch. What’s going to happen when she wakes up? Will she forgive me? God, I don’t deserve such a woman like her.
All I know is that I’ll be the one by her side through whatever recovery she has. I know cerebral edema can have serious side effects. If it’s serious enough. I see her room just ahead, but as soon as I reach for the door, my thoughts jumble and it’s like a well of emotion swamps me.
What if she wakes up and they have to do a spinal tap to make sure nothing else is wrong with her brain? What if she doesn’t remember anything? Remember me? Amnesia can happen with brain injuries. What if she wakes and doesn’t remember how much I love her? What if—
No. I swing my fist and hit the nearest wall as tears fall and I slide to the floor, knowing I can’t go into her room like this. I can’t let her see me as anything but strong for her. And I will be, for her. But right now, right now I’m weak. Powerless. Useless. My head falls onto my arms as this pain and devastation overwhelm me.
“I loved her mother.”
My head jerks up, but my father’s a blurry figure. “I don’t really want to see you right now, you fucking asshole. I told you all I needed to say. Now leave me and my future the fuck alone.”
“No.”
My jaw locks tight and I look past him, hoping someone else might be coming, but knowing I really don’t want anyone to see me like this either.
“No one else is coming. I told them to give us a minute.”
“I don’t want another fucking second with you. Get lost.”
“No.” Then he plops down next to me and I see his eyes are just as red as mine. Like I give a fuck. I want nothing to do with this man. Then gently, he says, “You will listen to me this time.”
“Go ahead
. I won’t be paying attention. I fucking hate you. You have done nothing but be a sperm donor to me, so I really don’t give one fuck about you. But go ahead. Justify yourself if it makes you feel better.”
“I loved her mother—
“Move the fuck on from that subject. Everyone and their fucking mother know how much you worshipped her mother. Even after you married my mother.”
“Listen, Goddammit.”
I don’t want to listen, but I see he won’t let me walk away, at least, not without a fight, so I flick my hand up, and he tells me everything. Mostly everything. About Susan George, a little about Mom, and then what he found earlier tonight. About learning about Everett George and the atrocities he committed against his own flesh and blood.
“You still think I give a shit? You took her without my permission! Do you honestly think you can just sit here and act as if you loving someone other than your own wife and child means anything to me?”
“You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t fucked her and got your mother pregnant.”
“God, I fucking hate you. Even if she wasn’t the best mother, she’s still my goddamn mother, show some fucking respect, asshole. Everyone knows the two of you don’t love one another. Just like I said. Sperm. Donor. I don’t really want to hear anything else.”
I stand up and he does too, but he pulls me back and pushes me against the wall. “Shut up, boy. You think I don’t care? I know it’s my fault that little girl is in that room. You think I would have ever let her near that monster if I had known? It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“That’s what you get for assuming.”
“God. You won’t listen, will you?”
“Nope. But then, you never had anything to say to me my entire life, have you? Don’t worry, it’s not going to change how I’ve ever felt for you. Which is nothing but blind indifference. Just the way we like it, isn’t it?”
