Once we’re out and standing in front of the garage, Jimmy opens the door and ushers us in. It doesn’t take long for my gaze to land on the totaled Hellcat. My heart begins to race, and I swallow down the lump forming in my throat.
Dash starts to follow me as I walk toward the wreckage of twisted metal which changed everything in an instant. “Let me,” I say softly over my shoulder.
He knows I want to study the car alone and hangs back with Jimmy. I hear the quiet murmur of their voices as I reach the car, and instead of a chill, I break out in a sweat as I run my finger over the outside of the car.
When I reach the driver’s door, I feel dizzy but keep going. This car, the accident is the key to unlocking my mind. I know it. The driver’s door is crushed and broken glass glitters in the seats and on the floorboards.
I reach out and touch what’s left of the steering wheel and my head starts to throb like before. Only this time, I don’t let it drive, I take control of this ride by breathing deeply until it begins to disappear.
I study the blood on the console and the passenger seat. The airbags from the steering wheel and dashboard are covered too. Istand up and rest my hands on the door but wince when I realize I cut my hand on a piece of glass still in the window track.
Blood beads on my palm and drips down my wrist as I hold it up in front of my face. Then I hear it like someone pressed play on a movie. Voices and the smooth sound of the Hellcat’s engine. I close my eyes trying to shut out the present as if it will help me see the past more clearly. But it’s fuzzy and more our voices than a vision.
“We’re like scary good at this, Lennon.”
Laughter.
“Yeah, we are. I don’t know what I’d do without you, London. I love him and I couldn’t keep seeing him if you weren’t willing to help me.”
“That’s what sisters are for, Lennon. I’d do anything for you. And Daddy will come around…eventually. He thinks he’s protecting you by trying to keep you away from Dash.”
“I guess he wants me with someone as perfect as Hendrix.”
Guffaws.
“You know what I mean, London. You and Hendrix are like the perfect couple. The doctor and the chef. Not like two race car drivers who compete against one another to chase a checkered flag. Dash and me, we aren’t safe, but you and Hendrix are. It’s all Dad will ever see. He won’t ever see how Dash makes me laugh and supports my every dream. He won’t see how much I love him.”
“Oh, Lennon. You and Dash will make it. You’ve always chased after each other and I think it’s one race you’re both bound to win. You’re both pushing the limits and breaking records. This will be no different. Your love story is one right out of a romance novel. Love will show up and show out. Trust it and trust your heart to know the way.”
I almost feel her take my hand even though its empty and I squeeze so hard the glass digs in deeper. When I open my eyesagain, I see the crimson trail running down my arm from where I’m holding my hand up.
I hear Dash’s footsteps nearing and I try to close my eyes and get my sister back one more time, but I can’t see anything past what I remembered, and I still don’t know whose eyes I was seeing it through.
I hear a scream and tires squealing. I reach my arm out toward my sister as I hear echoes of metal groaning and glass shattering through my mind as if it were playing out in real time.
“Hold my hand.”
My eyes fly open as I hear the whisper again. I frantically glance in the car to the passenger side and almost see a crumpled form. It’s transparent like a ghost showing itself and then it vanishes the moment Dash grabs my shoulder pulling me back to a cold, dark reality.
One where the nightmare from that night remains elusive, but true, nonetheless.
16
“What were you thinking, London?” Hendrix asks as he pulls out the shard of glass I shoved into my palm.
I hiss at the burn when it finally comes out covered in blood. I’m sitting on a hospital exam table as he carefully removes the jagged piece. Another crimson bead appears on my palm. Hendrix drops the shard into a metal bowl along with the tweezer-looking tool he was using to dig it out.
“I was trying to remember.” My voice sounds small and foreign to my own ears.
His blue eyes are filled with worry as he scans my face.
“And did you?” he asks as he returns to cleaning my hand, knitting his brows in concentration.
“I remember being in the driver’s seat when we wrecked. I remember conversation, but I don’t know which words were mine. It was like I was having an out-of-body experience; observing from a distance,” I say as my chin wobbles.
“I could see the blood everywhere and hear the eerie sound of metal twisting and groaning while glass shattered all around us. I remember feeling like all the air got sucked out of my lungswhen the airbags deployed. And I remember…my hand…” I trail off glancing at my hand as tears fill my eyes.
I know what he’s thinking because it’s the same thing I am. Everything points to me being London. Even Dash said she was driving when he and Lennon parted ways that night. Unless I can remember swapping places, which seems unlikely considering the clothes we were known to be wearing, it means I’ve messed up so badly. I slept with the man my sister was in love with. I cheated on my boyfriend who was planning to propose to me.
