Page 3 of Saved By the Sergeant

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else. I mean…”

“Who did you think I was? A hitman?”

“Something like that.” Her voice goes soft.

What kind of trouble has this girl gotten herself into? “Well, I’m not. Okay?”

“I see that now.”

I try to open my eyes, but they’re on fire. “At least one of us can see.”

“What can I do?” She asks.

“I need to get home, but I can’t drive in this condition, can I?”

‘‘I guess not.”

“Then you’re going to drive me home.”

“What?” The surprise in her voice almost makes me smile.

“How else am I going to get home? I can’t bloody see.”

“But… we’re strangers. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Besides, I’m going to Canada.”

“Have you looked around? We’re smack dab in the middle of a blizzard, sweetheart. You’re not making it to Canada until after this storm passes. And yes, we’re strangers but don’t get it twisted. I’m taking more of a risk than you are. I’m letting a psychopath with perfume bottles for hands drive me home.”

“I am not a psychopath,” she huffs.

“Whatever,” I growl as my pounding temples decide to join my face party.

“I’m not going to make it to Canada today, am I?”

Curious, I have to ask. “What’s in Canada?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Something in her voice tells me she’s not scared… she’s terrified. “Sweetheart, like it or not, we’re stuck, and there are no options. I need your help. And if I’m reading this scenario right, you need my help. We’re going to have to take a leap of faith and help each other out. You drive me home, and you can stay with me till the storm is over. When it’s safe to get down the mountain, I’ll help you get your car out of the snowbank and safely point you on the road so you can get to Canada.”

“But you’re a stranger,” she whimpers.

“Not this again,” I groan. “Do you feel the wind slicing across your face? Feel the snow piling up in your hair? This storm is moving fast. We don’t have time to talk this thing out. You’ve got to get me up the mountain. Now.”

“Fine,” she sighs. “But if you lay one hand on me…”

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not that kind of guy. Besides, I can’t see anything. My nose is running like a faucet, and my throat might be swelling and closed, thanks to you. The last thing on my mind is touching you. If you’ve got a bag with you, get it.”

“You don’t have to be so rude.”

“You’ve got to be joking.” I start moving towards my truck, using her car as a guide. “You are joking, aren’t you?”

“No.” I hear her step behind me.

“You’ve just assaulted me, and you say I’m being rude? That’s rich.”

“I realize I made a mistake. I said I was sorry.”

“Help me get to my truck.” I pause, take a deep breath, count to ten, and hold out my hand. “Please.”

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