CHAPTER
ONE
Haz
Rain lashed violently from the murky, cloud-laden sky, the torrent near deafening against the roof of my old Toyota. My white knuckles ached from my grip on the steering wheel, and if the muscles in my neck got any tenser, they’d probably cut off the blood supply to my brain.
My foot tapped anxiously on the gas pedal, not hard enough to affect the slow speed I traveled while squinting through the windshield. Visibility was terrible, the heavy sheets of rain practically creating an opaque wall, and the heavy fog hanging over everything snuffed out whatever the rain didn’t cover.
Anxiety was my constant companion—or rather affliction—but right now, it was nearly unbearable.
“I should pull over,” I said through clattering teeth, words drowned out by the din of the rain overhead.
My elbows ached, as did my knees. Being this tense was hell on the body, but telling myself to relax was like yelling into a void and having the stupid words echo back to mock me. I wouldn’t calm down until I was out of this storm, out of this car,and shut into my tiny apartment, which was no better than this beater of a car, but hey, it was home.
I really wanted to lie down. Curl into a little ball and close my eyes, letting sleep carry me into a place where none of this existed. The faster I got home, the faster I could do just that. So I drove on, passing cars that had already pulled to the side to wait for the downpour to relent.
Up ahead, the dark sky flashed as a bolt of lightning tore through the heavy storm clouds. It was chased immediately by a boom of thunder, the crack so loud and so close I jolted. The car swerved with the force of my shock, and I jerked the wheel back.
The bald tires failed to find traction, and the back of the car fishtailed wildly. On instinct, I let off the gas and slammed on the brake, which sent the car careening into a wide arc. Blasting horns competed with the storm, and I panted, nearly hyperventilating as I gripped the wheel, fighting for control.
The guardrail appeared, much closer than it was supposed to be, and I forgot about the steering wheel and threw my arms over my face.
Slam!
The hit was hard and shocking, my old junker no match for the sturdy rail. Metal crunched and glass shattered as my body jostled like a ragdoll. Sharp pain seared through me, stealing my breath.
And then everything was quiet.
The pounding rain silenced, all noise of blaring horns gone. No neon lightning striking through the shadowy clouds. For an unknown amount of time, there was nothing at all, and honestly, it was peaceful.
Eventually, that peace was encroached upon by incessant clicking so annoying it roused me back to reality where everything was chaos and confusion.
Gasping, I sat up, the sudden movement causing such a stabbing pain that my vision blacked out for a moment. Nausea slammed into me, and I lurched to the side, puking up the contents of my stomach, which wasn’t much. My body tried to eject more anyway, aching from the strain. When I was done, I slumped over the console, breathing unevenly, damp lashes fluttering.
What happened?
Thunder rumbled overhead, and I remembered. Planting my hand on the corner of the seat, I pushed up, but piercing pain had me hissing.
Lifting my hand, I noted the chunk of glass sticking out of the meaty part of my palm, blood oozing around it. Flashes of my car doing a full one-eighty on the road assaulted me and quickened my heartbeat.
Tucking my injured hand into my chest, I turned to the driver’s side window, realizing it was completely shattered and I was drenched from the rain. The engine was still running, the blinker turned on. Reaching over, I shut it off and gazed out the windshield at the way the beam of my headlights seemed to be swallowed by fog.
I wasn’t sure what to do… where I was.
My hand slid off the door handle three times before I realized the rain made it slick. Using the hem of my T-shirt, I gripped the handle and pushed. The door creaked and my arm shook as I shoved it open before it hit something outside and refused to budge.
Swiping at the rain on my face, I squinted at the slim opening.
“The one time I’m glad to be small,” I muttered and wiggled myself toward it, yelping when I smacked the glass in my hand. On shaking legs, I stood in the narrow opening, the rain soaking me completely through.
I turned back to the seat but then stopped. I needed to see how much damage there was to the car. Maybe I could still drive it home.
Oh God, what if I hit someone?
The horror of that sent a surge of adrenaline through me, and I moved around the car door and pushed it closed. I’d slammed into the guardrail, my car half on the side of the road, half not. The driver’s window was busted, and the front end looked sort of like an accordion.
My lip wobbled, and I sucked it into my mouth. The rainwater was cold and tasted slightly metallic. I shivered, clothes plastered against me, and slipped between the car and the guardrail so I could look at the entire front end.
