Xander is also driving slowly.
“Are you scared? You got so quiet over there. I am used to driving in the snow, so you don’t have to worry. It just takes a little longer,” he tries to reassure me.
“It’s not that. I know you will keep me safe,” I console him, fiddling with the hem of my dress.
“What is it then, Carolina?” he asks, his tone gentle.
“You said I was yours,” I whisper.
“You are,” he confirms, not leaving any room for misunderstandings.
“I just don’t get it. Are you saying all three of you want to be with me? All I do is struggle. I am not worth it. I can’t give anything in return. You will never be just happy with me,” I confess.
“Being happy is easy. I can be happy with anyone. But I want to struggle with you. Have you ever seen the darkness insomeone’s eyes and loved them anyway?” he asks, shooting me a glance.
Before I can respond, the world shifts violently around us. The sound of metal colliding with metal echoes in my ears, and my body jerks forward against the seat belt as the truck is struck from behind with a horrifying, bone-chilling crunch.
My heart races as Xander desperately clutches the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the sheer force of the impact. Panic surges through me as the vehicle skids across the icy road. Xander is trying hard to regain control, but it’s too late.
The truck spins out of control.
I can’t stop the scream that leaves me as I try to brace myself for what’s next. My breaths come hard and fast, my gaze shifting to the world passing by my window as we turn.
Xander’s instincts seem to kick in because he puts his arm out over my chest, trying to stop me from being thrown forward. The world outside blurs to a stop as we crash into a street lamp on the side of the road, the collision sending shockwaves of pain through my hips, where the seat belt digs into my body.
“Holy fuck, what happened?” I holler, but I’m met with an eerie silence.
I muster every ounce of strength I have left to turn and check on Xander. My heart sinks as I take in the sight before me.
He’s slumped over the steering wheel, a trickle of blood visible on his forehead, his body still, and it’s clear he’s lost consciousness.
The shock of the situation grips me, leaving me feeling helpless and terrified.
“Xander,” I yell, panic filling my voice, as I take off my seat belt to turn and take his face between my hands. He has a gash on his forehead, blood trickling down slowly, and he does not open his eyes. “Fuck,” I whisper, my hands starting to tremble.
Why the fuck didn’t the airbag deploy?
In a panic, I search for my phone, but as soon as my fingers touch my dress, I remember it’s at home with Joshua. I swipe over Xander’s pant pockets, only to remember that he hadn’t gotten his phone back from Clay either.
“Cazzo!” I curse, eyes filling with tears.
Thankfully, the truck is still running. It’s dark, and the headlights illuminate the flurrying snowflakes. The windshield wiper dragging across the glass is the only sound.
I turn to look out of the rear window, but there is no one else on the street, no sign of the car that bumped into us, and dread fills my stomach.
Was this really an accident?
Either way, I have to get us out of here.
I have to get Xander to a hospital. Make sure that if someone wanted to make us crash, they won’t come back to check if they were successful in hurting us.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, remembering that my dad taught me how to drive. I was in the middle of getting my driver’s license when they had their car crash. After that, I was done with cars. It took me years to get into a car with someone else driving.
But I have to do this. I have to get him help. There is no time to waste.
I carefully unbuckle Xander’s seat belt and try to push his shoulders back so he sits upright, but he is huge and heavy, and I can barely lift him from the steering wheel.
“Xander,” I whisper, pulling at him, but he doesn’t move. “Come on, big guy, you have to help me a bit here.”
