Page 3 of Slippery When Wet

“Over here!” A flashlight shined down to the ravine where I stood next to her driver's side door, leaned over, still trying to cut her out. “Seat belt’s stuck and door's jammed!” I shouted. Officer Morris Peterson nodded and hurried down.The beautiful girl opened her eyes before he reached us, and looked at me like I was some sort of knight in shining armor.

When I wasn’t.

“Almost got you out,” I rasped, trying to keep my cool. I could see the relief in her eyes. She believes me.

“You’re my hero, Daddy,” she whispered before passing out completely.

Not five minutes later, with Morris’ help, I had her in my arms, carrying her up the ravine to the ambulance that was waiting for us. They hurried and got her on the gurney then took her away. The rig rushed off with lights and sirens blazing.

And I stood there breathing heavily as the rain pelted me. My eyes shifted down to the ravine just in time to see her car washed over completely by a flash flood.

“Shit,” Morris cursed. “You have any idea how lucky she is you saw her car?”

“Right,” I mumbled. Morris Peterson was a good guy. Local cop who believed he could make a difference in the world. He was about my age. I respected him and had become somewhat friends with him.

“You did good.” He patted my back.

“Thanks.” I swallowed hard. “Do me a favor, though. Don’t put me in the report.” He frowned, and I knew he was about to ask questions. And I wasn’t sure I could explain it if I tried.

“I did what any bystander would have done,” I muttered.

“I don’t know about that, but if you’re sure?”

“Positive. I better go.”

“You don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”

“What?” I frowned.

“You’re bleeding, man.” He pointed, and I looked down. Shit. I am. With the adrenaline and worry coursing in my blood, I hadn’t felt it. In working to get her out, I’d cut my hand with the knife. The cuts weren’t deep enough to need stitches.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” I shrugged it off. He looked at me for a moment then nodded.

“Fine. Get out of here. I won’t add you to the report.”

“Thanks, I owe you.” I hurried to my truck.

I had been heading home after finishing a pool a couple of towns over. I had stopped to get groceries at a specialty store on my way. My trunk was full of food, and a shit ton of work was waiting for me at home to catch up on, including payroll.

But that didn’t stop me from heading to the hospital, where I sat around in a waiting room, hoping to overhear something, anything, about my sweet princess.

Abagail ‘Abby’ Rivas

A LITTLE OVER SIX MONTHS LATER

I sat in my car and stared out at the building in front of me. I swallowed hard and scowled.

“Stop being a scaredy cat. Ya no puedes ser miedosa,” I whispered to myself. “You can’t be scared of your shadow anymore, Abby.”

It was the same song I’d been singing for the last month.

But I hadn’t done anything to change it.

Not really.

I breathed in, and before I exhaled, I opened the door and slipped out of my new, spacious SUV. I shut the door behind me and leaned against my car. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest, but it was the crazy buzzing in my ears that made it hard to focus.

“Eres chingona. The main character of your own life, Abby,” I mumbled to myself. “Worst case, fake it till you make it.” I forced myself to walk toward the aquatics center.

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