Page 40 of Memories with Fire

The way my heart falls and my stomach twists catch me by surprise, but I somehow manage to bite back a grimace. Friends. Right. Of course, we’re friends.

Luke has the ability to shatter me into a million little pieces, and I truly do not want to try and pick them up again. Which could happen if we were anything other than friends.

So why the hell do I feel disappointed at his claim? I don’t want to be anything other than friends.

Do I?

“Yeah, definitely friends,” I agree, returning his smile even though I know it doesn’t reach my eyes.

Nate opens the side door leading into the parking lot and looks out. The rain is lighter than when I went out the first time, so we make hasty goodbyes, running to our vehicles as quickly as we can. Once I’m there, I peel off my wet sweater, tossing it into my passenger seat for the long drive home. Cranking the heat, I pull out of my spot and head for the road.

It's hard to zen out on the way home when the rain is coming down like it is. Morning traffic is backed up on the other side of the freeway, full of commuters heading in for their workday, and I’m glad I’m headed in the opposite direction. It isn’t long before I’m turning off the freeway onto the highway that leads up the mountain. This road is completely quiet, which makes me relax a fraction, but not fully. Not with the twists, turns, and steep edges that need all my concentration on a good day.

Suddenly, I notice a familiar Jeep coming up behind me. I sit up a little straighter, glancing in my rearview mirror. Sure as shit, there’s Luke, bobbing his head to whatever music he’s listening to.It makes me wonder where he lives, something I haven’t found out since being on speaking terms with him. It’s not something I thought to ask, nor is it something he’s offered, and it hasn’t come up organically.

“Where the hell is he going?” I question out loud before telling my Bluetooth to call him.

It’s the first time I’ve ever used his number, which I’ve had since his first shift. Not that I wanted it back then, but there’s a group chat between all of us, so I didn’t have a choice.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he greets, his voice filled with happiness. It’s raining too hard for me to see his smile in my mirror, but I can tell it’s there.

Which makes my own break free. There might also be a little butterfly in my stomach that dislodges itself from hiding. “Are you stalking me?”

“Fuck no,” he snarls, anger lacing his words. “I would never do something like that.”

His reaction surprises me. For a second I don’t know what to say, my stomach knotting with uneasiness. There’s an awkward pause in the conversation before I murmur, “I was only joking.”

At the same time he says, “Sorry. I just know someone who was stalked and it’s not something that’s funny to me.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” I tell him, my voice soft. I was aiming for light and airy with this conversation and it’s turned into anything but that.

“I know. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, I’m sorry. Not much riles me up, but that does.”

There’s a pause where I hear him take a breath and let it out. I give him a moment to collect himself before I ask, “So what are you doing then?”

Just like that, it’s like the last minute of conversation didn’t happen. He’s happy, casual, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he answers, “Maybe I’m just making sure you get home okay.”

“Is that what friends do?” I ask him, an eyebrow raised even though he can’t see me.

The laugh I get back warms me from the inside out. “Maybe it’s what I do for this particular friend.”

That one butterfly that broke free has a bunch of friends who suddenly join it. My stomach erupts with them, and I swear my heart skips a beat. “What are you really doing? You can’t just be making sure I get home okay. I’m fine. I drive this road every day and have for years. You know that.”

“I have complete and utter faith in you. I don’t have faith in this weather, though,” he tells me, and I can hear the seriousness in his voice. “I’m not technically making sure you get home safe, but it’s a byproduct of my drive.”

“A byproduct of your drive?” I repeat questioningly.

“Yeah. Like you, I go this way—” Luke cuts himself off abruptly which makes me glance in the rearview mirror. I haven’t looked back to the road when he yells, “Hailey! Stop!”

Movement in front of me catches my eye and I gasp. Watching like it’s happening in slow motion, a tree comes crashing down on the road in front of me. Instinct takes over causing me to slam on the brakes and spin the wheel to avoid hitting the tree, but the wet pavement has me sliding all over the place. I try to correct the steering, but there’s nothing I can do as my car goes careening towards the side of the mountain.

All I can do is hold on and pray.

CHAPTER 14

LUKE

I watchin horror as Hailey’s car spins around on the highway in the rain, a branch from the fallen tree hitting the road as she heads straight for the edge. There’s nothing I can do but stare helplessly, my Jeep coming to a screeching halt on the pavement. My heart is in my throat, my adrenaline has spiked, and I sit there listening to her scream through my speaker system as her car goes over the edge. It comes to a sudden halt with a deafening crash.

---