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Chapter Forty-Three

“ I can’t believe it only took two phone calls to get everything fixed. Two,” Miller mutters, sliding into the driver’s seat beside me. The rain’s still coming down in sheets, making it difficult to see out of the windshield. Definitely not ideal driving conditions. It beats on the roof, and my stomach clenches. “It’s amazing what your dad can do.”

“I’m glad there weren’t any major repercussions. It seemed serious this morning,” I reply with a sigh, leaning against the car seat. Exhaustion envelopes me, and I completely understand why omegas are supposed to take it easy in the days following their heats. “Are we heading to your apartment or house?”

“ Our apartment or house,” he emphasizes, backing out of the driveway before dropping his hand on my knee. “And wherever you’re most comfortable. Do you want the nest? I unfortunately have to go to practice tomorrow, but the commute from either place isn’t bad.”

The wind howls, and the rain pelts into the windows. My nerves flare, even though bad weather had absolutely nothing to do with us getting into an accident that night. Bringing my thumb to my mouth, I chew on the fingernail as I consider the options. While it would be nice to nest, the apartment has tons of cozy nooks. And all the blankets. It should be enough to keep my omega happy. Plus, it’s way closer to my parents, and as my stomach churns with anxiety, that seems like the more important thing.

“Apartment,” I answer tightly. He squeezes my knee comfortingly but keeps his eyes on the road, which I love him all the more for.

“Sounds good.” He drives slowly to account for the wind and difficult visibility, and I do my best to even out my breathing. Intrusive thoughts swirl in my brain, showing me images of us bloody from a car accident. Or flying off the road at a wicked speed. So many nightmarish pictures that are all in my imagination, making my heart pound faster with every second that goes by.

Adrenaline courses through my veins, but I watch the water droplets on my window, trying to keep the panic at bay. Miller needs to focus on the road, not my fears. They slide down the glass, leaving tiny rivers in their wake, and one by one, I trace their path as they disappear into oblivion.

A bright, shocking yellow grabs my attention, so unusual against the dark backdrop of the storm. My eyes snap straight to it, tunneling vision in full effect, and I gasp. Blinking hard to make sure it’s not another dark daydream; a strangled cry leaps from my throat when it’s still there.

“Miller. Stop the car. Oh, God. Stop the car.” Horror claws through me like sharp nails, ripping my chest open and squeezing my heart. Pulverizing it to mincemeat. Through the fog of fear, I reach for the belt buckle, snapping it open. “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

“Puff? What’s wrong?” His voice barely breaks in, and I can’t form the words to explain. The door remains locked, and I try to manually release it, tugging harder with each second that passes. Miller slows the car, pulling onto the shoulder. “Babe, talk to me.”

My fingers finally find the button, and quick as a flash, I leap from the barely moving vehicle.

“POSIE…” he shouts, but I’m already gone, sliding down the muddy embankment and into the flat ditch below. The rain comes down, soaking my clothing, but all that matters is that bright yellow paint.

My shoes squish in the mud. Water runoff fills the bottom of the basin and causes my feet to grow heavier with each step. It splashes around me like a child jumping in a puddle, but there’s no happiness to be found. Lactic acid makes my muscles burn, and I’m not sure if I take a single breath as I sprint toward where I saw the bright yellow flash .

“POSIE…” Miller roars again, but I don’t slow down, knowing my Alpha will follow, and that’s good because I have a feeling I’m going to need his help. Finally, I’m there. It wasn’t all in my head. The scent of iron hits my nose, and I stagger back a step but then push forward when I see the twisted metal that used to be my big brother’s car.

“Oh fuck. Fuck!” Miller comes up behind me, panting hard.

My eyes bounce around, searching for the door, a window, something— anything— but it looks like the little sports car crumpled on impact…or perhaps tipped up its the side? I can’t make sense of all the parts before me. A tire here, what looks like the exhaust pipe over there—it’s nearly unrecognizable.

This can’t be happening. Not again.

“Posie, 911 is dialing. Can you talk to them? I need to see what the other side looks like,” Miller explains, giving me the phone.

“It’s all my fault,” I whisper, staring blankly at the screen.

Warm hands gently clasp my face. “No. Absolutely not. It’s pouring, and he was driving a car that’s not made for this kind of weather. Are you okay enough to talk to the emergency operator?” Miller checks in with me, even though my brain is screaming for him to help my brother. Swallowing hard, I nod and bring the phone to my ear.

“911. What’s your emergency?” a voice chirps in my ear while I follow Miller’s long strides around the car. This side doesn’t look as twisted. The airbags are visible, and I wonder if we could try to open the door.

“Hi. There’s been a car accident on Highway 10. My brother’s car is in a ditch.”

“Are you in the car, Ma’am? ”

Miller must have the same idea because he rushes to the car and tugs with all his might. The metal hinges creak and groan, but they don’t give way.

“No.”

“Ma’am, are you injured?” the voice asks, but my brain feels fuzzy, torn between answering her questions and watching Miller huff and pant as he tries to get it clear. I walk forward, nearly falling when my toe catches on a big rock.

A big rock.

“I’m fine. We’re only a mile or so back from Exit 56. Please get here,” I say, dropping the phone into my pocket to reach down. The rock is slippery under my fingers and so heavy that my arm muscles pull taut, straining under the weight. But a surge of adrenaline makes it possible.

“We can use this to break the window,” I gasp, returning to Miller’s side. His eyes widen in surprise, but he pushes back his soaked hair and hauls it into his arms. We can’t see inside the vehicle; the rain and airbags obscure the windows. Odds are we should wait for help, but what if Owen needs us now? What if his survival is resting on us?

Working as a team, we bring the rock down hard on the window, hoping my brother doesn’t get cut by the glass shards.

“Owen,” I scream into the void, then stop to listen. The loud patter of the rain makes it hard to hear, but I swear he whimpers, “Help. Help me,” and I become resolute.

“He’s in there. He needs us,” I shout to Miller.

“I know. Let me see if I can get to him.” Miller yanks on the airbag and then uses it to clear the glass shards before reaching inside to unlock the door. It pops open with a loud squeak that echoes around us amid the raging storm. A loud clap of thunder answers back, making me jump. “He’s right here. But I can’t get the damn belt off.”

Immediately, the problem is clear; the front of the car is crumpled around the steering wheel, and Miller’s Alpha bulk can’t squeeze between. Even his long arms are too short to reach.

“I can.” My feet slide as I try to clamor into the car, but Miller is right there, supporting me the whole time, never letting me fall. The scents from the car make me lightheaded, burned rubber, and the coppery stench of fresh blood cause my vision to swim. Clenching my fists, I get ahold of myself, focusing on my task. It’s a tight fit, and I do my best not to hurt Owen further as I slot myself into the vehicle. Blood drips from his head, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest brings me hope.

“Hey there, big brother,” I whisper, too scared to speak louder. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

The sound of my voice has him cracking an eye open and muttering something unintelligible, but just the fact that he’s able to do that makes me lighter. He’s not dead. This isn’t the end of his story. I won’t let it be.

“Okay, I know it’s awkward, but I’m going to reach for the buckle. Okay?” He doesn’t answer me, but it’s all right. The pain marring his face has me moving as quickly as possible as I stretch and twist until my fingers touch the metal of the buckle. Pressing hard, I grunt in frustration when my thumb slips and doesn’t free him. Sweat dots my brow, or perhaps it’s just my hair dripping from the rain, and I curl forward to try again. Jamming my thumb on the button, it finally gives way with a loud click.

Hell yes .

The strap pulls taut, then launches itself off him, slapping angrily against the doorframe.

“I did it,” I cry, letting Miller help me out of the destroyed vehicle before whirling around and helping to tug my nearly unconscious brother free. He’s heavy as hell, but between the two of us, we finally pull Owen from the wreckage.

“Owen. Owen. Can you hear me?” Miller asks, gently dragging his body toward higher ground. The rain is finally tapering off, but the water in the ditch is ankle-deep, so we can’t lay him down. My brother grunts but doesn’t speak. His leg bends at an odd angle, and I wish Mari were here to do an assessment. Nearly at the end of her nursing degree, she would know what to do, but me? I’m completely useless.

Thankfully, just as despair closes in, sirens and red flashing lights appear in the distance, rushing this way. The second the fire truck and ambulance arrive, EMTs swarm the scene, relieving us of our duties. They quickly assess Owen, deciding he’s stable but needs to be transported immediately.

“Are you two all right?” an older paramedic asks, looking us up and down. We both nod, knowing that the minor scrapes and bruises we’ve gotten throughout the ordeal will heal. “All right. We’re going to take him up to the hospital. You can follow us there, but I would suggest getting out of those wet clothes as soon as possible.”

The man turns on his heel, striding quickly to the ambulance, where Owen’s on a gurney being loaded into the back.

It could have been so much worse…