I always wore the same long black coat whenever the weather permitted. It was my favorite piece of clothing. Not only did it have a lot of pockets, but there were also bulletproof panels sewn into strategic places along the front.
My bloody fingers tore at the coat’s inner lining to produce a piece of Kevlar about five inches long. I wedged the Kevlar panel between my flesh and the broken metal, using it like a lever to bend the metal away from my leg. There wasn’t enough time to completely free myself. The water inside the car was already a foot deep.
I focused on the biggest pieces trapping me. Once those were out of the way, I took a deep breath and yanked my leg free.
I screamed. For a moment, I feared I’d torn my leg completely off. Yet, when I looked down it was still attached to my body. Broken and bleeding, but still there.
Thank fuck.
Using my arms and my uninjured leg, I pulled myself across the seats to the passenger door. That side of the car pointed up to the sky. I could see stars through the window.
It had stopped raining.
I yanked at the handle and shoved at the door with my shoulder until it opened. Dragging my broken leg behind me, I slid out the door on my belly and fell into the river.
Water rushed into my mouth and nose. I thrashed my arms in a poor imitation of swimming. Everything felt bitingly cold, except my leg, which burned white hot.
I couldn’t even tell which way the riverbank was. Pushing back the pain and fear, I just picked a direction and started moving. The water was shallow enough that I could push my good leg against the bottom of the riverbed, helping to propel me forward through the current.
It may have been hours, or maybe just minutes, but eventually, I grabbed onto something solid. I dragged myself up onto the riverbed and collapsed into the mud, gasping, my chest heaving with each strangled, painful breath.
My vision faded in and out. No matter how desperately I tried to stay awake, my strength had run dry. My brain was shutting down whether I liked it or not.
Just before everything went black, a thought drifted through my mind.
Maybe this was my punishment for lying to my brother.
CHAPTER 9
Newt
My shift at the hospital was only halfway over, but it already felt like it had lasted a week. I’d spent the entire first half of my break looking forward to calling Bastian on my break, only for the infuriating man to leave me with an incomprehensible clue for the video game level I couldn’t beat.
An hour later and it was still bouncing around my head.
“You have to breathe on yourself,” I grumbled as I sat at the front desk filing paperwork. “What does that even mean? Stupid Bastian. He’s lucky he’s hot, or I wouldn’t forgive him.”
Although my words sounded angry, anyone passing by would have known I didn’t mean them due to the smile on my face.
I was dating someone.
I still couldn’t believe it.
We’d talked every day this week, and so far, Bastian had taken every moment of weirdness I’d thrown at him in stride. At first glance, I hadn’t expected him to be so accepting. He seemed like the kind of guy who took life seriously. His sharp, dark eyes surveyed the world around him like he was judging whether it was worth his attention or not.
Yet, under his all black wardrobe and broad shoulders, I found a man with a relaxed sense of humor and a surprising preference for wholesome entertainment.
Maybe it was too soon to think such things after only a week, but I could see us becoming serious. I’d never had a proper boyfriend before. The few flings I’d had in college didn’t count.
Sucking off a drunk frat boy in the bathroom during a party couldn’t compare to even a single moment just sitting around talking with Bastian.
Although now that my mind had wandered onto the topic, I couldn’t help picturing what sex with Bastian would be like.
Would he be strong and domineering?
Soft and considerate?
Confident?