Page 64 of Dina's Favorite Mistake

Dina had never been one to physically discipline her daughter, but—God help her—in that moment, she wanted to smack her daughter for being so reckless. It was an awful thing to admit. A shameful thing, even.

I’m a failure as a mother.

I didn’t keep her safe.

Why wasn’t I a better mother?

Why didn’t I love her more? Give her more? Show her how much she meant to me?

Is my daughter going to die because of my mistakes?

Sick and furious with herself, Dina clutched her phone and the seat belt. She refused to cry, refused to let the hot sting of tears pass. Later, she would indulge weakness. Right now, she had to be cold.

I’ll do whatever it takes to save her.

Dina glanced at the roof of the Jeep and the weapons there. Even if it means killing.

“Dina. Look.” Steve slowed down again and pointed to the right side of the road. There were deep gouges there and headlights shining at a strange angle.

“Stop!”

Steve was already stopping when she yelled. He’d barely put the Jeep in park before she bailed, running toward the obvious scene of a wreck. She skidded to a halt at the edge of a deep gully. Mud sloshed up her legs and covered her shoes.

Handprints. Footprints.

Small ones.

Camila sized.

The truck her daughter had stolen sat upside down at the bottom of the steep embankment. The hood was crushed, and there was glass everywhere. One of the front wheels was bent. Another was flat.

An invisible vise squeezed her chest as she imagined what had happened here. Camila driving off the road, sliding down this gully, flipping end over end until finally coming to a stop.

“Do you think she’s in there?” Steve balanced precariously next to her. Wind and rain battered them both, but neither flinched or paid it much mind.

“I don’t know. She didn’t say.” The short conversation replayed in her mind. Had Camila sounded hurt? Stuck?

“I don’t see any tracks that are big enough to belong to a man.” Steve traced Camila’s muddy prints away from the gully and back toward the road. “I think she went this way.”

Dina joined him on the roadway. In the distance, lightning lit up the sky. Thunder followed, rumbling across the landscape and warning that things were about to get much, much worse. “That way to the ruins.”

Steve followed her pointing finger and nodded. “All right. We’ll go that way.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her back to the Jeep. “Come on. Get in.”

Always a gentleman, even in the direst of circumstances, he helped her into the passenger seat and shut her door before hustling to the driver’s side. He drove slowly down the road, taking the turn with care. They both scanned the road for any sign of Camila.

“I don’t see her, Steve. Where is she?” Dina practically had her face plastered on the windshield. She perched on the edge of the seat, her hands on the dash and her seat belt unfastened. “What if she’s hurt from the wreck? What if Jose has hurt her?”

“We’ll deal with it,” Steve assured her. He reached across and grasped her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t promise that!” she snapped, hating herself immediately for being so waspish.

“No, I can’t.” Steve didn’t let go of her hand. Even when she was being an absolute bitch, he still supported her.

I will never deserve this man.

“There.” Steve braked suddenly, dropping her hand and flinging his arm out to restrain her. The sheer power in his muscled arm kept her from slamming into the dash or getting hurt.

“Are you okay?” she asked when he put the Jeep in park. She worried he’d broken his elbow by using brute force to hold her in place.

---