Page 95 of Married With Malice

For a split second I’m sure the car exploded.

A blink of an eye later, I’ve reconsidered. There’s an airbag in my face and all of my limbs still seem to be attached.

This doesn’t mean my problems are over. A thick tree trunk has apparently collided with the grill of the rental car.

To be fair, the tree has been there for quite some time. It was just minding its own business when I came skidding off the road, lost control of the vehicle and ruined the day.

Though the towering evergreen is still standing, the car is not as lucky. Once I smack the airbag into a deflated heap, I can see that the car’s front end has crumpled upon impact. The engine now wheezes and sputters, barely running.

As for me, I’ve been better. There’s a band of pain across my chest thanks to the seatbelt and the airbag has left my entire upper body feeling battered. As I touch my head, my fingers go exploring for any injury.

It seems I got off easy. I’m in one piece and there’s no blood and no bumps.

Wincing as I click the seatbelt open, I test out each limb with caution and am relieved to find everything works as it should. I’ve never been in a car accident before, not even a minor fender bender. Leave it to me to suffer my very first auto mishap in a snowstorm in the middle of nowhere but it is what it is. This car is really not well suited to winter mountain travel. No matter how slowly I drove, the wheels slid precariously around every curve.

And there werea lotof curves.

The snow quickly became an even bigger problem. When I left the resort, there were a few cute snowflakes dancing out of the sky. Fifteen minutes later, they were joined by billions of friends, all raining down as thick as a ticker tape parade.

I was probably less than halfway down the mountain before realizing my best option would be to turn back. A little belatedly, I recalled Cale’s comment about how the road up here gets closed during storms. This sure looks like a storm to me.

Still, everything would have been fine. I could have chugged the car back to the resort and then laughed with Luca about how I tried to go shopping in a blizzard.

In my defense, there wasn’t a blizzard when I left. But by the time I pulled over and cut the wheel to turn around, the snow was falling in thick sheets and accumulating with absurd speed. The windshield wipers couldn’t work fast enough. Visibility was pathetic.

I can’t pinpoint exactly how I managed to stray off the main road and onto one of the nature trails we saw on the way up. It was only when I realized the ride had become far too bumpy that I began to question what went wrong.

A second attempt to turn around went even more poorly than the first. The car lurched one way. Then the other. My grip on the wheel became a matter of life or death.

Only the fact that I was traveling at low speed prevented the crash from being much worse. Still, it’s obvious that the car will need to be towed out of here.

Trying to put the car in reverse does nothing. The tires spin and the engine moans.

After unleashing a volley of choice curse words over my own foolishness, I zip my jacket up to my chin, pull the hood over my head, and climb out of the car to evaluate just how bad things really are.

Stepping outside is like falling into an ice bath. I swear the temperature must have plummeted at least thirty degrees since I cheerfully skipped out of the lobby. I really wish I’d brought gloves.

Oh well. Hindsight is a bitch.

Wrapping the scarf around my neck and pushing my jackets sleeves over my bare hands, I walk around to the front of the car to see what I’m dealing with.

The answer is nothing good.

The wreckage looks much worse from this side. The front of the car is still kissing the hapless tree. The rear tire on the driver’s side is stuck in a nest of snow-covered fallen branches. Even if I had a clue about how to extract the vehicle from its present position, I’m not strong enough to pull it off.

Feeling more ridiculous than ever as I return to the warmth of the car, I realize I’ll need to call for help.

Unfortunately, this brings an entirely new challenge. My phone battery is only at three percent. I didn’t bring a phone charger. And just to add a cherry on top of this special experience, not a single call will go through.

First, I try calling Luca. Then I try texting Luca. Then I try calling Sadie. And, just in case an out-of-state call will have better luck, I try calling Daisy.

Unbelievable. Not only have I destroyed the rental car but I’ve wandered into some kind of phone reception wormhole.

And the snow is only getting thicker, falling faster.

A very real tendril of fear snakes up my spine.

I didn’t tell Luca where I was going. He thinks I’m still getting my serenity treatment at the spa. He won’t even think to look for me until I don’t show up for dinner.

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