She wanted to live.
She let out a broken cry when she finally made it around the car, crawling her way up the steep grade to Camille’s door.
“For the love of Ella Fitzgerald,” she whispered and wrapped her frozen fingers around the handle.
Tears froze to her cheeks as the door creaked open. Then she realized it wasn’t the door, it was the tree. There was a horrible splintering noise and then a groan.
It was going to give. And without that anchor, the car could fall.
Now or never. She reached inside, pushing the airbag down and fumbling for Camille’s seatbelt. Her friend was still horrifically motionless.
Don’t move an accident victim, she heard her mother’s voice clear as day in her head.
But it was either move Camille now or watch the car plummet to the bottom of a goddamn ravine.
The car slid another few inches forward, dragging Remi’s feet with it.
It took a long moment before she realized that the broken sobs she heard were coming from her.
“Come on, Camille. We’re not letting him win. This is not the end!”
Her fingers finally found the buckle and released it. Trying to figure out the best way to pull her friend from the car, planning swiftly changed to action when the first tree gave up its fight and cut through the beam of the headlight in slow motion.
“Shit!” Remi grabbed Camille by the shoulders and heaved.
She fell over backward, awkwardly dragging her friend’s unconscious body with her. She barely had time to get them both clear before the wreckage shifted and slid. Only this time, it didn’t stop. The weight was too much for the broken tree to bear.
With a terrifying snap, the tree and car disappeared into the black.
They were sliding, too. Slipping into nothingness as the wreckage crashed and crumpled its way down the steep incline. With one arm looped around Camille’s chest, Remi scrambled for a grip with her other.
Her arm struck something. Hard. She only imagined the sound of the snap, Remi told herself as pain lit up numb nerves.
Through the pain, she managed to curl her arm awkwardly around the thing, arresting their decent. She dug her heels in. And tried to breathe. Tried to think of what next.
The guardrail and road were above them. Somewhere. She didn’t know if it was danger or safety that waited.
“Fuck,” she whimpered through chattering teeth.
She closed her eyes and pictured her parents’ kitchen. The place she was happiest. She’d missed Christmas with them. Why hadn’t she gone home? Because she’d found out about Warren, she reminded herself. She found out her friend was married to a monster and didn’t want her to be alone with him.
What if that had been her last chance at Christmas morning with her family and the monster still won?
“NO!” she sobbed out the denial.
He wasn’t stealing anything else from her or Camille.
“Camille, we are going to climb up there, get some help, and we are going to put that motherfucker behind bars,” Remi whispered. Her friend remained motionless in her grasp.
“I know I give you shit for being so thin. But it really worked out in your favor tonight,” she said as she carefully set her heels in the snow and scooted a few inches up the incline. When she felt her footing was secure, she released her grip on the rock. Her arm sang when she tucked it under Camille’s. But it was either feel pain and move or feel pain and freeze to fucking death on the side of a ravine.
Or pass out from an asthma attack and let them both tumble into the dark.
Gritting her teeth, she leaned back, pulling Camille with her. Again and again. Inch by inch. There was no time. Only distance. Darkness. Cold. The hitching sound of her own labored breathing.
And then there was a flicker. Blue. Then red. Again and again. It landed on the brush surrounding them, lighting up the fog, painting the snow and her breath. Blue. Red.
There were voices now. And more lights.
Her heart sang. She wanted to call out, but her lungs wouldn’t allow her to suck in enough air. So she hung on to her friend’s limp body and sent up a silent prayer.
When her eyes opened, a beam of bright light blinded her. Was she dying? Was this officially it?
“I’ve got two vics on the slope,” a voice reported.
“Get me a rope and the sled,” someone else barked.
Remi squinted up into the light, still clinging to Camille. They were safe.
She’d tell the police everything, and they would go break down Warren’s door and arrest him. She’d go with them and kick him in his motherfucking balls.
That’s when she noticed the tall shadow looming over the guardrail.
“Senator, we need you to step back.”
32
“Remi.” Her name fell from his mouth in two strangled syllables.
He was pacing in front of her without even remembering rising while she told him her story.
He wanted to pick her up in his arms, promise her that no one would ever get that close to hurting her again. He wanted to fly to Chicago and break every fucking bone in Warren Fucking Vorhees’ body.
He wanted to carry her across the street, lock her in his house, and stand guard.
As a cop, he knew how dangerous domestic disputes could be. How quickly they could go sideways. The thought of Remi putting herself between a friend and a fucking monster took ten years off his life.
“Are you okay?” she asked, those jade green eyes searching his face.
Brick stopped mid-stride and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He would never be okay again.
“Do you want some water or something?”
“Just…give me a minute,” he said, finally managing to choke the words out. Visions of her, restrained by a seatbelt, holding her friend’s hand as she tried not to cry out. As she waited for a madman to end her life.
She nodded and picked up her coffee. And waited for him to calm down enough to pretend she hadn’t shattered his goddamn world for the second time in one night.
He would fucking fix this. He would make sure she was never alone in the dark again. Never faced an enemy alone. Never without a protector.
“So Vorhees was with the first responders on the scene?” Brick asked, trying to shift into cop mode. His hands fisted at his side, and he realized it was impossible. There was no way to be objective about the man who had tried to murder two innocent women. Especially not when one of them was his. There was no justice swift enough for that. Would he be satisfied with putting this animal in a cage for the rest of his life? Would the law give him the vengeance he needed to protect Remi? That gray area that lived between right and wrong suddenly began to make sense to him.
“Yes,” she said, answering his question. “It’s kind of a blur. But he was there with the cops. I think he spun some story about flying home to surprise her. When he realized she wasn’t there, he got worried and tried to track her phone.”
“So his story is he flew home, tracked her phone, and called the cops?” Brick summarized.