“Are we on the road?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“What’s that mean?” Karl asked, panicking.
“Well, hell, we just have to find out,” Cordell complained, pushing open his door.
“Wait!” Wyatt cried, but it was too late. The SUV shifted sideways. The door fell back into place and the cold metal frame creaked as the SUV dropped.
Baker stomped on the brake pedal, a useless reflex. There was no chance of regaining control now. Wyatt saw Evie’s eyes go round. He tried to use his body as a counterbalance and keepthem on the road. A blast of wind howled and he heard a tree snap somewhere close. Fate or gravity did the rest.
“I’m sorry Evie,” he said as the SUV fell off the road and down into the ravine.
Her scream echoed forever, punctuated by the sounds of crumpling metal, breaking trees and snow billowing all around them.
All of the words Wyatt needed to say were lodged in his throat. He was stuck in his own personal horror movie, starring as both the monster and the inept boyfriend trying—and failing—to save the girl. She wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for his rash choice to drag her along when the robbery fell apart. His fault. Her blood on his hands, if she died here, believing he was a criminal. She’d never know how much he still loved her.
He was weightless while the SUV kept falling, Tate and his men alternately yelled prayers and curses while Evie’s accusing gaze stayed locked on him. Guilt was his brutal companion and he deserved every injury or consequence for being so careless with her. With his feelings for her.
During his Army days, he’d been in tough situations, but they never went on a mission without a plan. Never without a team he could trust at his side, at his back. Having men and women he could count on, people who didn’t care where he’d come from, had been the greatest unexpected benefit of his military career.
Every moment flashed through his mind with frightening clarity. The good and the bad. In Deadwood, on Army bases around the world. What he’d loved. What he’d lost by leaving. He’d been so sure the gains and independence would offset not having Evie in his life. It sucked to know death was imminent and have so many regrets about decisions he couldn’t change.
The back end of the SUV crashed through the trees, the rear window shattering. Cold air, broken glass, branches and snow drifted up into the cabin as they continued to fall. Evie wasbuckled in, but the blanket had fallen away and he could see her hands were still restrained. She seemed to be reaching for him, her hair drifting around her face. Instinctively, he reached for her too, but it was pointless as the crash tossed him around.
The final impact was bone-jarring as the SUV landed on the rear bumper. Wyatt lost his breath, tossed into the side of the passenger seat and pinned when the backseat rushed up to meet him. Those weren’t stars dancing in front of his eyes, but dust and debris floating through the air, all of it laced with freezing air and snow. Behind him Cordell groaned and wheezed. He could see blood trickling down Baker’s forehead where the driver had collided with the steering wheel.
“Evie?” He tried to twist where he could see her, but he was stuck.
“I’m here.” She coughed. “Hold still, hold still.”
He relaxed just knowing she was alive. Slowly, his body came out of the initial shock, a wealth of discomforts from head to toe accented by a few clear points of sharp pain. “I’m not hurt,” he said.
“Then why are you bleeding?” She’d freed herself from the seatbelt and was dabbing at his cheek with her bound hands. “Can you move?” she asked.
He tried to say yes, but his ribs protested his attempt to breathe. He gave her a thumb’s up sign. “Need a minute,” he wheezed. He picked up on the coppery scent of blood in the air. They were probably all bleeding in various degrees. Pain pulsed through him in deep, aching waves, but he didn’t think he was seriously injured.
The same couldn’t be said for the man on the other side of Evie. As Wyatt’s vision cleared, he could see that Karl was unconscious at best. Blood pooled behind his head, soaking into the upholstery behind him.
“Take my hands,” Evie said. “You can get out this way through the back door.”
Urgency filled her voice and he understood her intent. If only it was possible for them to get enough distance to make a run for it. They weren’t far from town, assuming they could survive long enough to find a trail out of the ravine, but Cordell was stirring in the passenger seat.
“What now, Jameson?” Cordell asked, his voice strained.
“We get out and find shelter until we can start working our way to the rendezvous,” Wyatt answered through gritted teeth. It would be long miles on foot in a raging blizzard with three inexperienced and possibly injured people. “You still have the diamonds?” he asked, knowing the answer.
Cordell patted the pocket under his heavy coat. “Yes,” he said, somewhat relieved. “Karl has the solitaire. Karl?”
“Karl’s injured,” Wyatt said. “He can’t move. Evie, you’ll need to adjust as Tate gets out so we stay balanced.”
“Got it.” Her gaze was locked on him.
He’d been away from Evie so long he’d forgotten how nice it was to work this kind of emergency with an expert. “Tate, open your door, slow and steady.”
“What’s wrong with Karl?” he asked instead.
Wyatt bit back an oath, more than ready to stand up straight again. “When the rest of us are clear, we’ll find out.” He wondered if anyone actually packed the first aid kit he’d requested. Not that he expected a few bandages would be enough for Karl.
