Page 108 of Love Me Fierce

“I need you to check something out for me,” I say, cutting him off. I give him a summary of what I’ve learned and what I need from him.

“You’re moving at light speed, dude,” he replies. “Does Vivian even know this Jordy guy?”

“I don’t know, I’m trying to track her down.”

He gives a low hum. “You sound worried. Is she okay?”

I fight the dread that has my lungs in a vice. “I’ll call you back.”

Chapter Thirty-One

VIVIAN

Searingpain in my temple wakes me. It hurts to open my eyes. Rain taps on the broken shell of my car, mixing with my labored breaths and my rapid pulse whooshing in my ears. My headlights point into the rocky ground, one shard of light extending into the darkness. Into the rain.

My chest aches where the seatbelt kept me in place. There’s blood on my lips. I wiggle my toes, then my fingers, then force in a shaky breath. The pain is sharp and frightening, but so far everything works.

My head is throbbing, and my stomach feels unsettled, like I might puke. I must have cracked my head against the window. I probably bit my cheek too. The back of my left hand feels tight and an ache in my skin extends up my arm. Airbag burns, most likely.

I close my eyes to rest for a second, but my mind flashes to the tan SUV swerving, crashing together.

A chill rattles through me.

What happened? The road was slick, but I don’t think the driver lost control of the car.

He meant to make my car go off the road. He meant to hurt me.

Will he come down here to finish the job?

No. Don’t think like that.

I force my eyes open, but it’s so dark inside the cab. Where is my purse? I need to call for help.

The car is resting at an angle, right side up, but when I unbuckle my seat belt, I won’t be able to keep myself from falling sideways. The airbag that inflated from my steering wheel is resting limp, almost empty of air now, same as the side door ones, looking like sad, wet balloons in this eerie darkness.

From somewhere in the car, my phone rings. I yelp in surprise. Where is it coming from?

Bracing myself, I press the seatbelt button. But it’s stuck. I must still have too much weight on it. The phone’s ringing jangles my focus, making me frantic to reach it. Leaning left and using the steering wheel for leverage, I ease my right leg from under the dash and set my foot on the far edge of the console below me. Pushing upwards on my right leg fires a hot pain up my shin. Panting and whimpering, I balance there while grasping for the seatbelt button. But now I’m bunched up beneath it, and it won’t budge.

The phone stops ringing.

I cry out in frustration, but it just makes my head pound harder, and my stomach feel rubbery.

I need to unweight myself somehow so I can get free of this seatbelt, then find my phone and call for help.

The phone rings again. It’s coming from the backseat, below me. It might as well be at the bottom of a well. Hot tears spill over my eyelids and tickle my cheeks.

How am I going to get out of here?

What if nobody knows I went off the road? Can anybody see me down here? What if I have to wait like this all night?

A beam of light crosses in front of my windshield. It’s coming from above.

I don’t like that I’m stuck in here. What if it’s the driver of the SUV, coming to hurt me?

Helpless and frustrated, I start to cry. What about Matty?

Rocks tumble down from above, ricocheting off my car. Someone is coming.

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