Page 44 of Whispers of My Skin

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Sheer terror renders me speechless.

All I can do is pray for divine intervention, as my lips move in silent supplication to the powers that be, keeping my eyes tightly closed to shut out reality and force myself to stay calm. The last thing Joel needs is me indulging in pointless hysterics while he’s struggling to keep us on the road, so to curb my panic I silently rock back and forth in my seat.

A drip of cold sweat trickles down my spine as I sense the Grim Reaper eagerly anticipating two more inconsequential souls joining his realm.

Then I feel Joel’s hand shaking my arm.

“Tara,” he urges as he keeps his eyes on the road ahead. “Babe, I need you to open your eyes and hold on tight. There’s a flat piece of land coming up, so I’m going to take us off road and put us in a controlled crash.”

“Oh my God, Joel” I whimper with fear. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He takes his eyes off the road to glance at me for a few precious seconds, his deep amber eyes seeking my approval.

“We’re running out of options, and I figure this is our best shot,” he says quietly. “It’s now or never. You ready?”

I give him an almost imperceptible nod, and that’s all he needs.

Joel shifts the truck into neutral, then jerks the steering wheel sharply to the right, slewing us off the road and into an open field.

Time stands still for what seems like an eternity, our lives in the lap of the gods.

“Just pray we don’t come across any kind of an obstruction,” Joel grits out as he wrestles to keep control.

The truck jolts and bounces along on the uneven terrain for what seems like forever, but is in fact probably less than a minute or two. To stop myself from screaming my head off, I bite my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

The truck makes all kind of ominous cracking and crunching noises, so I hardly dare let myself believe that we’ve remained upright and the truck is actually slowing down, until it eventually grinds to a stop.

By some small miracle, our prayers have been answered and we’ve come through unscathed.

“Shit,” Joel exhales, letting his head fall onto the steering wheel where his hands are still gripping it tightly. “That was fucking close.”

“Yeah, too fucking close for my taste,” I giggle, lightheaded with relief.

“Are you ok, Tara? That was a pretty rough ride.” He runs his fingers over my face, my arms, checking I’m still in one piece and unhurt.

“I think I peed my panties, but other than that, I’m good,” I giggle again. It’s either laugh or cry at this point, but thankfully my body sticks with hysterical mirth.

Joel lets out a heavy sigh as he falls back against his seat.

“Well, I gotta say, this was not how I planned on things going tonight.” He reaches over, taking my hand to softly press his lips to my palm.

“Me either. And I hate to bring this up, but assuming your truck’s wrecked, how exactly are we going to get home now, seeing as we’re stuck out in the middle of nowhere, with not another soul around?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make a few calls, get a tow truck organized. Then I suppose we’ll have to follow the Brummell’s example and get us an Über.” The way Joel calmly takes control of our situation goes a long way to soothing my fragile nerves.

Within half an hour, the dark of night is filled with multicolored lights. In addition to the tow truck, two high way patrol cruisers also arrive, the officers most likely suspecting a ‘driving under the influence’ incident. Thankfully, they soon establish this is not the case and allow us to go on our way.

“At this rate, Fermin’s going to get home before we do,” Joel murmurs against my hair as we finally fall into the back of the Über he’s organized. He pulls me close, wrapping his strong arms around me. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should get you checked out, in case you’ve suffered some whiplash…”

“No, no more doctors and hospitals, please, Joel? Just take me home.”

I’m exhausted, and all I want is to curl up in his arms where I feel safe and sound again. I’m so tired that I’m not aware of falling asleep until I feel myself being lifted out of the car, the cool night air washing over my weary bones. My husband effortlessly carries me into the house, and upstairs to our bedroom, where he very carefully places me on the bed, as if I’m made of fragile fine porcelain, then lays himself down next to me. All I know in this moment is no matter how I got here, right now I’m safe with Joel. With my man.

“Feels as if we’ve arrived in heaven after narrowly escaping the jaws of hell,” I whisper.

Joel pulls me closer, squeezing me so hard it’s bordering on painful, but I don’t mind. It’s reaffirmation that we’re alive, that we can actually still feel. Same goes for my heart.

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