“Sweetheart…” His voice was lower now, almost regretful. “This fight’s been coming for a long time. It surpasses what happened tonight.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs, the fear creeping in despite herself. It was so loud, she swore they couldseeit beating against her chest. But Tool was already turning back, already setting her behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
Brandi tookher time driving back to the B&B, her thoughts a tangled mess ofTool—guilt, sadness.
Where had she gone? The girl who had survived Misha and his friends? The fighter who had clawed her way through the darkness and made it out alive?
She had been strong back then—because she’d had no choice. But since coming to Lampsing, she hadwilted,become a mere shell of herself. Maybe that was the real problem. The constant pretending, the forced smiles. She had spent so long surviving that she no longer knew how to live.
The road ahead twisted and curved, the two-lane stretch weaving through the dark like a serpent. The steadypitter-patterof rain against the windshield turned into a heavier downpour, droplets racing in frantic patterns across the glass.
Brandi flicked on the wipers, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as visibility worsened.
The next curve came up fast. Too fast. A sudden flash of high beamsblinded her. She gasped, instinctively tapping the brakes—wrong move.
The tires skidded, hitting a patch of pooling water, and the SUVhydroplaned.The back end swung out violently. Brandi’sstomach lurched as she fought the wheel, trying to regain control, but the vehicle had a mind of its own.
The right side hit the shoulder, tires slipping on the slick mud. Brandi barely had time toscreambefore the worldtilted. The sound was swallowed by the quiet cab, lost beneath the hammering rain as the SUV careened off the road.
Wrenching the steering wheel back to the left caused the backend of the SUV to jackknife. She twisted it to the right trying to regain control of the vehicle. She felt the truck sliding down an unforeseen embankment. Then it was tumbling. Her arms windmilled as her head bounced from side to side.
The sound of crunching metal filled the cab, a sickening symphony of destruction as the SUV flipped once, twice—Brandi lost count. Glass shattered, tiny shards embedding into her exposed skin. The seatbeltjerked tight, slamming her back against the seat, knocking the air from her lungs.
The SUV came to an abrupt halt, landing upside down with a bone-rattling impact. For a long moment, all Brandi could hear was thepoundingof her heart, the ragged pull of her breath, and the distantdrumof rain against the crumpled roof.
Pain bloomed in a dozen different places, sharp and insistent, butshe was alive.Slowly, she became aware of the acrid scent of leaking fuel, the burn of something metallic in her throat. Blood—her blood.
She shifted, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt, but her fingers felt sluggish, uncoordinated. Panic coiled in her chest. The SUV groaned, shifting beneath her as if deciding whether to stay put or roll again. Sheneededto get out.
Her pulseroaredin her ears as she fumbled for the buckle, her slick fingers slipping over the release. A low whimper escaped her lips.Focus.She tried again, this time managing to press it. The belt released, and she fell—hard—onto what used to be the SUV’s ceiling.
Her vision blurred, but she could just make out thewebbed cracksin the windshield, the rain slipping through the broken glass like tears.
She wasn’t sure if she could move. But she had to. With a sharp inhale, she reached for the nearest door handle, praying it would open. It didn’t. Trapped.
A strangled sob threatened to rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down. No, she wasn’t giving up. Not now.
Bracing herself, Brandikickedat the windshield, pain radiating up her legs as her bare foot connected with the fractured glass. Once. Twice. The third time, a section finally gave, breaking outward.
She didn’t hesitate. Gritting her teeth, shedragged herself forward, every movement agony, and pulled herself through the jagged opening.
The moment she hit thecold, wetground, her body gave out.
The rain beat against her back, washing away the blood as she lay there,breathing.Alive.
For now. But something in the back of her mind whispered that she wasn’tsafe yet.
Fighting against the pain, Brandidug her elbowsinto the damp grass and mud, dragging herself inch by inch away from the wreckage. Every movement sent sharp, biting pain through her body, but she refused to stop.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she dug the heel of herone remainingshoeinto the soft earth, using it for leverage. She pushed with everything she had, her body trembling with exertion.
Rain pelted her skin, soaking through her clothes, making the ground slick beneath her. Each pull forward felt like a battle, each push anagonizing victory.
The wreck sat in the distance, atwisted shadowagainst the night. The faint smell of gasoline still lingered in the air. She had to get away. Had to reach the road. But her body was giving out.
Her arms shook violently as she clawed her wayhalfway up the incline. Her fingers slipped, her strength wavering. Darknesscrept in at the edges of her vision, swallowing the world in a slow, relentless fade.
