Page 23 of Boxed In

Chapter 4

Luke could feel the confusion and the sudden panic welling up inside the warrior as he realized he was in over his head. The man had probably never asked for help in his life. But he needed it now.

“Give me control,” Luke shouted, praying that the big Z wasn’t too proud to prevent his own suicide—and their deaths along with his.

The cab of the truck had already entered the intersection. It was too dark to see the driver’s face. But Luke could imagine the terror in the man’s eyes as he realized the other driver wasn’t going to stop.

At the last second, something inside Luke’s mind snapped, and he regained control of his muscles. He wanted to slam down on the brake. Instead he eased his foot down, pumping the pedal and slowing the car as he yanked the wheel to the left, trying to prevent a collision.

Somehow he bought them enough time for the truck to roar past, the wind shaking the Honda.

Luke breathed out a sigh, giving Olivia a quick glance. When he turned back to the road, he got an unexpected shock. The left lane was blocked by a row of concrete barriers, and he was heading straight toward them.

It was impossible to avoid a collision. But at least they weren’t going very fast when they slammed into the leading edge of the low wall.

The sound of crunching metal filled his ears as they came to a rocking stop.

You did that! the warrior shouted inside his head.

Shut the fuck up. There was no way to prevent it.

Had the truck driver seen the crash? Probably, but he apparently didn’t want to get mixed up with the maniac who was driving the Honda.

Olivia was sitting in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield, looking dazed.

“Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

“I flew forward,” she whispered. “But the seatbelt pulled me back. Otherwise, my head would have smashed into the glass.”

“Yeah,” he answered.

With hands that weren’t quite steady, he unhooked his seat belt and staggered out of the car. He wanted to have a good look at the crumpled front end, but there was nothing he could do about it now. And he wasn’t going to agonize over the car when Olivia might need him. He went around to the passenger side, where she was still staring out the windshield.

“Are you all right,” he asked again.

She gave a small nod.

“Answer me.”

“I . . . I’m okay.”

He helped her out of the car, then gathered her close. Despite the circumstances, he liked the way her body melted against his and the way her arms came up to clasp him.

They stood swaying on the sidewalk, and he lowered his head, skimming his lips against her hair, her ear. He moved his hands up and down her arms, feeling her sway like a young tree fighting a windstorm. “Your legs are okay? Your neck?”

He felt her testing various muscles. “I’m okay. You have a good headrest.”

“Does anything hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

He nodded, then muttered, “I’m sorry.”

She raised her face to his, her eyes questioning. “For what?”

“For bashing into that barrier.”

She looked around. “Nobody expects a barrier in the left lane.”

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