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When he pushes back to his feet, he kicks the front passenger tire then walks around the entire car checking the rest of them.
He looks at me over the roof.
“There’s nothing wrong. Get in the car, and stop freaking out. Beauty is as solid as ever.”
It makes me feel a little better. Still, there’s this small voice in my head telling me that something is definitely wrong.
Once we’re back in the car, I grip my hand on the armrest of the door, my heart rate climbing in time with the car gaining speed. I notice the vibration still, my attention rapt and waiting for the sound again.
I hear it again. And again. And again. Each time turning the radio down just for Shane to tell me I’m worrying too much before turning the music back up.
Another half hour passes.
We’re on the interstate driving at a little over one hundred and fifty miles per hour.
And that small vibration and quick sound becomes a massive vibration, the front end of the car veering left and then right, Shane fighting to control the wheel.
“Pull over,” I yell as he attempts to dodge traffic, because of course, whatever happened occurred while we were in the middle lane.
Shane keeps his cool, though, directing the car into the grass on the side of the road, the tires running over deep rivets as we bump along.
My heart is in my throat by the time we stop, panic sweeping over me in undulating waves as I hear Shane’s door open and slam shut while I try to convince my eyes to open.
“Son of a bitch!”
Gulping down a knot of fear, I open my eyes just as Shane pulls my door open. It reminds me of when they purposely ran Ames and me off the road.
“Brin, you okay?”
I’m not okay.
Not even a little.
“Brin?”
His voice fades out, and I’m left with the pounding sound of my heart and the blinding fear that my lungs can’t draw in enough air for me to survive.
A panic attack has taken over, and all reason and control rush out of my grasp, my entire body shaking as I stare unblinking at the myriad of lights surrounding us.
“Brin!”
It sounds like he’s miles away, a small voice drowned out by the drumbeat of my heart.
A muttered curse word then he unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me out of the car to cradle against his chest.
I know what’s happening.
And I know I need to calm down.
But tell my body that.
Convince my mind.
It’s like I’m split in two people sometimes, the reasonable side of me watching the terrified side take the throne of control.
“Breathe with me, Brin. Deep and slow. You need to calm down.”
We almost died.
