Page 167 of Ice Mechanic

My head constricts.

This is not okay.

Not at all.

Rebel’s returning a car to a client. There’s no one else in the garage to call out to.

I stumble backward, my knees growing weak. And not in the ‘I’m watching Chance in a tuxedo’ kind of weak-at-the-knees.

The room spins like a top on a merry-go-round. I hunker over the trunk of the Corolla I was working on. The weight of my body doubles and I slouch, losing all my ability to balance.

Black spots dance before my eyes.

Out. I need to get out.

Instead of moving forward, I drop to my knees instead. Panicked and desperate, I fight to keep my eyes open despite the pull to close them. Using the car’s bumper as my crutch, I lift myself up.

If I can get to my feet and get to the door, maybe I can call for help.

I push with all my might, but my head is stuffed with cotton and my limbs are over-cooked noodles. Hands slipping off the car, I feel myself dropping backwards with no cushion to dampen my fall.

Just before I hit the ground, the back of my neck snaps against something cold and sharp. My tool box. I hear the faintsound of my name over the explosion of pain in my skull. But by then, it’s too late. Everything goes black.

When my eyes peel apart again, it’s because the ground under me is shaking. Is it an earthquake? It’s too noisy to be heaven. Though, technically, it would make sense that heaven is noisy given the multitudes of people up there.

“You’ll be okay, April. You’ll be okay!” The frantic voice sounds like Rebel.

I agree. Iwillbe okay. I promised Chance that I would. Me not being okay would mean I’d be going against that promise.

Bright lights blur on the ceiling.

Wait, now that I think of it, why is Rebel in heaven with me?

“Carbon monoxide poisoning.”

Those words sound awful and they’re coming from an unknown male voice. I doubt angels would be discussing carbon monoxide poisoning.

Besides, heaven smells distinctly like antiseptic and vanilla air freshener.

“Paramedics… oxygen… procedure…”

Something is tight around my face. An oxygen mask?

They definitely don’t give those out in heaven.

I want to tell everyone I’m okay, but my mouth won’t open. I’m way too tired to do anything but fall back into unconsciousness.

My eyes open with a start.Where am I?

“Sh, it’s okay,” Chance’s hushed voice reaches my ears.

He’s leaning over me with a damp rag and pressing it gently against my forehead. So gently, it’s like he’s afraid I’ll shatter to pieces if he adds any more pressure.

“Chance,” I whisper with relief, reaching for his hand.

He takes my fingers in his. The warmth of his touch brings tears to my eyes. It’s been so long since we held hands. I forgot how tenderly Chance holds me.

My entire life, I’ve fought to be taken seriously and present myself as a tough, knowledgeable mechanic. But with Chance, I’ve never felt like I had to fight or force myself to be tough. I could just… be.

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