Page 60 of Crimson Love

I’m about to tell him not to worry about me, but headlights fill the truck cab. I turn to see it just as Jett exclaims, “Fuck!”

Something much bigger than Jett’s truck strikes us from behind.

My seatbelt constricts against me, cutting into the skin at my neck.

I scream and reach for the dashboard.

I’m surprised the airbags don’t deploy, but Jett hit the gas when he saw the lights or else it would’ve been worse.

“What the hell,” Jett growls as his eyes shift from the road to his rearview mirror. “Dammit, they’re coming again. Hang on.”

I grip my door and console as I watch the side mirror in horror. “It’s a semi!”

Jett’s truck revs as he floors the gas to put distance between us. We’re on the edge of town on the country road that leads to the mountains and the manor. The lights on the tractor trailer swerve before they straighten to come at us again.

“Oh my God,” I whisper turning to look out the back window. “They’re coming again. What’s happening?!”

“Turn around and brace. I’ve got to get off this road.”

I turn forward and brace one hand on the dashboard. “There’s no way you can make that turn at this speed.”

What he doesn’t do is slow down. The engine hums at a high rate. As we approach the turn, Jett hits the gas again. He focuses on the rearview mirror once more as he tells me what’s going to happen. “I’m going to hit the brakes and turn. There’s no way that truck can keep up on the switchbacks. You ready?”

No.

I am absolutely not ready, but I am a team player. “If you say so.”

I see the sign for the turn off to head up the mountain. Shit. We’re never going to make it.

“Now!” he yells.

I lurch forward. The truck fishtails, and Jett white knuckles the steering wheel to keep control.

I cringe.

When Jett swerves into the left lane, I glance at the side mirror. The semi is coming full force.

“Hang on!” Jett yells as he lets off the brakes and violently turns the steering wheel to the left. I squeeze my eyes shut just in time.

I don’t see it, but I feel it. It’s impossible not to.

We barely make the turn, but the semi clips us. It might not be a direct hit at ten miles per hour, but at our speed, it’s shattering.

Jett’s truck tips, and the worst happens.

We roll.

And we roll again.

I want to scream, but the only thing I hear is the ground and truck crashing together in a ferocious clatter.

Over and over.

We finally bounce and teeter to two wheels, but by some fate of God, we fall back to the ground on all four tires.

I’m still gripping the dashboard with one hand, and the other is pressed to the ceiling.

“Baby.”