It just happens so fast.
Growing up in a rainy city like Seattle, you’re always told how to brake suddenly—resist the temptation to immediately brake hard or turn the wheel—you could lose control. Slow the car by easing off the gas pedal and wait until contact is reestablished with the road before attempting to lightly pump your brakes. In an old car like mine, I have to pump the brakes.
Pump your brakes.
Pump your brakes.
As I slam on my breaks, the thought enters my mind, but I don’t pay attention.
There’s a dog on the off-ramp.
I’m going to hit it.
There’s no way I’m going to hit an animal—possibly someone’s beloved pet.
Maybe that makes me stupid, but I refuse to injure an innocent animal, even it means slamming on my breaks as hard as I can.
Even if it means I hydroplane.
Even if it means I feel my car spin quickly.
Even if it means I feel the car hit and flip over the center divider.
Even if it means the impact knocks me unconscious.
I refuse.
I refuse to hit an innocent animal.
Even it if means I risk my life.
Fortytwo.
Nick
I stare at my phone, waiting for Evianna to tell me she’s not coming. That’s the only explanation—it’s been over an hour since we spoke on the phone. I wish she’d told me. I wouldn’t have made an elaborate midnight picnic. I even have champagne chilling in the refrigerator.
Her words booty call made me cringe. That’s not how I work, and I wanted to prove that to her. I’m not a booty call kind of guy. I walk over to the blanket on the living room floor—I placed it in front of the fireplace—and I start to pack up the food. I even made cupcakes… I thought she’d enjoy that.
Just as I’m shaking the blanket out and placing it on the back of the couch, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Relief washes over me, but when I see the unfamiliar number on my caller ID, I feel the hairs on my neck stand up.
“Hello?” I ask cautiously. I feel dread hit the pit of my stomach as a strange voice hits my ear.
“Nick? It’s Samantha Halle,” she says, and then I hear her start to cry. “There’s been an accident…” she trails off.
I fall down on my knees.
Please, God… no…
“Oh my God. Where is she?” I demand.
“They took her to Overlake Hospital.”
“On my way.” I hang up and shove my phone into the back pocket of my jeans.
My heart is racing, and suddenly I’m running upstairs and scooping Bria up and into my arms.
“Where are we going?” she mumbles.
“I’m going to the hospital. You’re going to Grandma Ceecee’s,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice from wavering unsteadily. I don’t want to elaborate. I haven’t thought about the possibilities… I can’t think about the possibilities…
She doesn’t ask why; she only cradles her head into my shoulder as I run down the stairs and grab the keys to the car.
I don’t even bother locking the house.
I don’t even bother putting on shoes.
I don’t even bother with anything that doesn’t involve getting to Evianna as quickly as fucking possible.
When Bria is buckled in, I drive up the road to Cecelia’s house and jump out, grabbing Bria as I go.
I bang on the front door.
And bang.
And bang.
Wake up! I want to shout.
Frank opens the door halfway, sees me, and ushers me inside.
“I can’t, Frank. I just need you to watch Bria. Evianna was in a car wreck. I need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay,” he says, and I transfer Bria to his arms. “What hospital?”
“Overlake.”
“They have good doctors there,” he says, and I nod.
“I’ll call you when I hear something. Thank you for watching Bria.” I turn to walk away, and Frank calls out to me.
“Nick…” I turn around as he watches me. “I hope she’s okay.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
The front door closes, and I jog back to the car.