Like suddenly deciding you were moving to New York. Or realizing you were in love. Or finding out your husband’s pesky acid reflux was actually livercancer.
The walls of the car started closing in, and I could feel my cheeks flush despite the air conditioning. My heart started beating double-time and there was a familiar cramping in my stomach.Oh, lovely. A panic attack was just what I needed. The cherry on the shit-sundae of this wholetrip.
I took a deep breath and blew it out, then repeated the process, visualizing a calm and protective shield around the car with every exhale. Doctor Trainor would be so proud. You’d never guess I hadn’t suffered from panic attacks until last year, I was such a fucking professional at handling themnow.
But tonight, my calm and protective shield was doing jack shit to hold back the tide. My hands started shaking and tingling, and my vision wavered. I tried to guide the car to a gentle stop on the side of the roadand…
I swear to God, I saw a man running out of the woods, right atme.
He launched himself out of the tree line at my right, straight out of the brush and into the road. His pale chestglowedin my headlights, like he was some kind of otherworldly creature, and his hair was chin-length and dark, exactly like… exactlylike…
At the last possible moment, I yanked the wheel left, sending the car careening through the opposite lane, just as the road curved right. The brakes squealed as I slammed down on the pedal, but there wasn’t enough pavement for me to stop. The car sailed over the embankment, weightless for a heartbeat, and in that time when gravity wasn’t holding me, I thought that if death was this peaceful, it might beokay.
Then the car slammed into something with a deafeningcrash,the airbag exploded, catching me in the face, and I was overwhelmed by the tang of metal. I sat there, stunned, even after the airbag deflated, doing a mental assessment. My knee had taken the brunt of the impact, cracking into the center console with bruising force, but I could feel all my fingers. I could feel all mytoes.
Alive, then,I decided. And apparently car accidents were an antidote to panic attacks. I’d keep that info in my backpocket.
The headlights were on, but illuminated only a green curtain, since the windshield was so shattered it was impossible to see through. The engine was making an ominous hissing noise, so I turned the key and shut off the car. The headlights cut off withit.
When I heard a shuffling noise from the backseat, I remembered I wasn’talone.
Shit.Daphne.
I pushed my door open and then yanked at the door to the back seat, peering inside the cat carrier I’d belted into the car. I swear to God, I’d never been happier to see those accusing blue eyes blinking up at me from her smushed whiteface.
“You’re okay,” I told her, unbuckling the carrier and lifting it up so I could see her better. “I’ve got you, and you’re gonna befine.”
She let out a plaintive, guilt-inducingmeowthat rejected any comfort. I rolled my eyes. She’d always been more Adrian’s catthan…
Fuck. Thinking of Adrian made me remember the guy in the road, and I set the carrier on the ground in the small circle of light spilling from the interior of the car. The guy had been lean and pale, like Adrian, with hair that lookedexactlyas Adrian’s had when I’d first met him. And he’d been so damn close to thecar.
My stomach churned. Had I hit him? It had all happened sofast.
“Hello!” I yelled into the darkness. “Can you hearme?”
The only response was the chirping of crickets and the tiny, terrifying sounds of thewoods.
I scrambled through the thick undergrowth to the passenger’s side of the car and pried open the front door digging for my cell. The glass had cracked, but it lit up obediently when I touched the screen… and displayed exactly zero bars of service. Becauseofcourse.
I had a first aid kit in the glovebox, though, and a vague idea how to use it, so I turned my flashlight on and scanned the road where I’d seen the Adrian-lookalike. I steeled myself to see blood and broken bones. What I found was evenscarier.
There was no one in the road. And no sign there’d ever been anyone,either.
Had I… imagined the man somehow? Did panic attacks cause hallucinations? Had I somehow conjured aghost?
The last time I’d felt so completely alone had been the day of Adrian’s funeral, when his mother had turned to cry in his father’s arms, and his sister had turned to her boyfriend, and I’d realized the days of sharing my troubles with someone I loved were over. I could take care of myself; of course I could. But Jesus Christ, it wastiring.
I thumped my fist against thetrunk.
“Thisisn’thow it was supposed to go, Adrian!” I screamed. “You were supposed to beherewith me! We were supposed to do shittogether.” I pushed my fingers against my eyes and found them wet. “If you lovedme—”
I broke off before saying something incredibly dumb and stood up straight, pissed atmyself.
If he’d loved me, he’d still bealive?
I knewbetter.
Adrianhadloved me, he’d fought hard, but now he was gone. If there was a heaven or abeyond, if there was any justice in the universe, he would be floating on a cloud somewhere. He was most certainly not materializing just to jump-scare me in the woods of Upstate New York. I had my own broken mind to thank forthat.
I limped over to collect my cat and started walking toward O’Leary, because there was really nothing else to do. The only way out of the woods, literally and metaphorically, was throughthem.
