She almost scrambled back.
Like he’d done something awful and terrifying, instead of nothing at all. He hadn’t even grabbed her. He didn’t even get close. The second he registered her reaction he drew back, whip quick. And oh, the look on his face.
It was pure sinking realization.
“You’re afraid of me,” he said, in this wondering and soft way that she would never have guessed could come from him if she hadn’t seen him in front of her. The man didn’t know how to be soft. He didn’t know how to be gentle. And he certainly didn’t know how to sound just a little bit broken over something.
But for just a second, she wondered if she’d heard that in his voice, too.
She even had the urge to reassure him suddenly. Then was glad he got there before she could. That hand dropped; the expression on his face now seemed resolute, sure of himself. And his voice was firm and deep again when he spoke.
“Okay, kid,” he said—as if he were a million years old, and she was but a slip of a girl.Weird, she thought at first. But oddly, it seemed to work. It set her at ease in a way she couldn’t quite explain, before he continued. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna put a hand on my shoulder, right here, so when you drop, you drop into me and not the ceiling of the car. You with me?”
“Yes. Yes, totally, Mr. Jackson—”
“Cripes, don’t call me Mr. Jackson in the middle of all of this.”
“I don’t know what else to call you, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“You call me Jack, and no sorries either. Now, less talking, more acting.”
He beckoned to her as he said it. One big hand, a quick fold in the middle.
And she wanted to obey, she did. But there was just a single slight issue.
“Of course. Right. Okay. Just one thing, though, not to be a bother, but the seat belt. The seat belt is kind of a little bit stuck. And my leg, too, under the dashboard. I mean, if I wiggle I could maybe get it free but…” she babbled, in a manner that seemed even sillier when contrasted with his measured calm.
He leaned in and assessed and took in the problem like something made of stone, all slow and deliberate. Then he cut her off before she could panic and gesture any further. “No, no, no, don’t worry, I got you, I got you. So, new plan,” he said.
“New plan, all right,” she replied, as reasonably as she could.
“We do everything like I said. But then instead of you releasing the seat belt, you’re gonna look at me. You’re gonna look right at me while I handle the rest. That make sense to you?”
No, she wanted to say.No, that makes no sense at all, there’s no way you’re going to be able to do that, and even if you could I don’t think I can look at you the way you inexplicably want, or touch you the way you’ve asked, as you do. But truthfully, she was so relieved that he wasn’t murdering her, and so excited at the prospect of being out of an upside-down car, that she couldn’t really find it in her to do anything aside from nod.
Even though nodding meant she’d have to touch him.
It meant putting a hand on his bulky shoulder while his eyes locked with hers. Those usually wild blue eyes, just a little haunted looking now.It’s probably just this strange light,she thought as she tentatively inched toward him.
Too tentatively, it seemed.
“Kid, I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I’m not gonna bite. It’s okay to go faster, much faster, in fact you really need to because we’re in trouble here. So come on now, just imagine I’m someone less scary and go for it,” he said, in a way that suggested he could definitely smell the gasoline she had identified a second ago.
And it helped.
She managed to grab his shoulder, almost confidently.
Then pulled back, startled. Of course she did. He washot. He was so hot it almost seemed to burn for a second. She thought of accidentally putting a hand on a stove, and had to remind herself that this was impossible.He’s just exerting himself, he just runs that way, he’s a big guy, of course he’s warm, she thought.
Though, god, she could even feel that heat radiating from the arm he slipped around her. Not exactly making a lot of contact, but that didn’t seem to matter. It bloomed out and all over the nape of her neck, her shoulders. She had the urge to ask him if he had a fever of some type.
But before she could, he reached past her to her belt.
Then there was a sound of something ripping, abrupt and scary enough that she wanted to glance back. She probably would have done, too—if the tension around her waist and across her chest hadn’t immediately gone slack. It just went, and the second it did she dropped. She dropped hard, and fast, and would have definitely crunched her head or broken her neck if he hadn’t been ready.
He caught her easily in the scoop of his arm.
Then held her like that, effortlessly, as he went about freeing her leg. “Look at me,” he said, and she did. She watched strain smother his face briefly. Saw the muscles on his arm stand out, obvious even through the thick flannel undershirt he had on. And this time, the sound wasn’t just a thick rip.
