Page 90 of Steadfast

“Come on,” she begged as if her words would will the hat into her grasp. Sparks showered onto her arm, leaving behind little burns, yet she was still unwilling to surrender.

Let it go.

She exhaled.

Reluctantly sliding her body through the window, she felt the glass shredding through her shirt and pants, etching deep gashes on her arms and legs.

She tumbled from the wreck, crawling on her hands and knees before she collapsed in the dirt. When she turned back, her eyes went wide.

A burst of roaring flames had engulfed what was left of Abel’s truck.

It was gone.

He was gone.

As the flames reflected off her eyes in the loneliness of the night, she was consumed by the heavy load of responsibility, years of pouring from an empty cup, and the immense weight of her loss. A hollow, desperate cry released from the depth of her sorrow. It was the aching sadness she had buried for so long.

Feeling her anger overflow, she clenched her hand and raised it high. Bringing her fist down hard, she pounded the gravellydirt, causing her tender knuckles to radiate with pain, a reflection of all she felt inside.

Maeve drew her fist back again.

And again.

And again.

She felt a hand clasp her wrist, and she twisted to free herself.

“Maeve! Stop!”

Bursting through her anguish was the sound of Oakleigh’s trembling voice.

“Stop, Maeve. I’m here. Let me help you.”

Maeve collapsed into the dirt. She felt Oakleigh’s arms around her while she wept until her soul felt empty and weak.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Oakleigh finally said. She pulled her phone from her pocket, scrolled with her thumb, and tapped the screen.

Sawyer’s voice came echoing from the phone’s speaker.

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“I need your help, Sawyer.” Oakleigh gulped down the quiver in her voice.

“What did you do now?” Sawyer sneered.

“It’s—It’s Maeve.”

Chapter 29

Wrung Out

Maeve felt herself lifted from the ground. “Put me down. I can walk,” she demanded.

Sawyer gently set her back on her feet. Her knees betrayed her, buckling once again. Putting her hand up to signal him to give her a moment, she settled in to catch her breath.

“That’s it,” Sawyer announced, taking charge as he turned to Oakleigh and Crew. “Let’s get her to the hospital.”

Maeve’s bruises throbbed, and the cuts on her legs and arms stung in the cold night air. She knew she was injured, but the hospital was the last place on earth she wanted to be. Her throat felt like razor blades as she collected the few words she had left.

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