Page 73 of Peaches & Pistols

Just the thought of him spurs me to action.

I’m able to unbuckle my seatbelt, and my weight falls onto the airbag. The car nose must be pointed straight down.

Shifting to the right, I get my knee up far enough to kneel on the radio controls. Knobs stab into my leg as I readjust to brace my right elbow on the center console. The car creaks and my heart stops.

Every movement is a risk, but I have to keep going for Everly.

After strenuous effort, I’m awkwardly positioned at the open, broken passenger window.

I’m in leggings and a T-shirt beneath my coat. The broken glass will shred through the thin layers and slice me open. Drawing my hand into the sleeve, I use my arm to brush away as much broken glass as I can.

The best I can do is kneel on the window frame and try to somersault from the opening and pray I don’t get cut too deeply, and that the snowpack will catch my fall.

Protecting my hands inside my coat sleeves, I position my knees as carefully as I can, bits of glass digging through the thin material of my pants. It’s going to hurt no matter what, and I’m tremoring from the cold, fear, and adrenaline.

I push off the window frame.

Frozen crystals envelop my face. My hands reach to brace my fall but push through the snow as if it’s a cloud.

My legs crack against the car and then I’m a heap, buried in the snowdrift.

I’m at serious risk of hypothermia and I need to keep moving. Wading through the snow is like walking in a pool with weights on my ankles. Looking back, the car is totaled, and the gravity of my situation clouds my vision with tears.

The hillside I crashed down isn’t terribly steep or high but navigating exhausted and injured makes it feel like Mount Everest.

Finally up on solid ground, I look up to find the sky painted with watercolors. Time didn’t wait for me while I was unconscious, and the day has dipped into early evening. It’ll be dark sooner than I can get to safety.

I know I’m on the road between the highway and Lucky Spurs Ranch, but I don’t know how far I am in either direction, or which way is which. Rooted to the spot, I don’t know how long I ponder the probability of freezing to death.

Tears sting as they drip down my wind-burnt cheeks but the floodgates open and I’m left sobbing on the side of the backroad. The crying sends daggers through my already aching head.

I may never hold my sweet child again. Kiss her tiny lips or run my fingers through her wild hair. I waited too long to divorce Carter, and now he’ll poison her with his lack of human compassion and need for control.

Why couldn’t Everly have a man like Greyson for a father? Why couldn’t Greyson be her father?

I’ve been slowly falling for him since the day he took us in. How could I not? He’s everything in a man I’ve never had. Protective. Kind. Empathetic. Reliable.

It’s been nearly impossible these past weeks to resist acting on my feelings for Greyson. After he kissed me, a flame lit inside me that’s been snuffed out far too long.

I want to rush into his arms when he comes home from work. I want lazy nights on the couch. I want to wake up in his arms, nestled between his sheets. I want him to make love to me on his lunch breaks.

But I waited too long. I let fear control me. And now it’s too late.

I’ll never be able to tell Greyson I love him.

My legs burn from pacing, but I’ve been desperately trying to generate body heat. I’m so tired and cold a gust of wind could blow me over.

Should I have picked a direction and started walking? It would’ve been miles in either direction. If I have a concussion, I could’ve gotten more disoriented.

My eyelids are so heavy, and my head bobs as I try to stay awake on my feet.

I’m startled by tires crunching against the snow. Headlights stab my sensitive eyes, even in the remaining daylight.

“Mia?” a male voice shouts. “Holy shit.”

I’m being carried like a small child and placed in the backseat of a vehicle. It’s warm. Something’s draped across my torso.

“You’ve gotta stay awake, Mia.” I’m gently jostled by a large hand on my shoulder.