Page 1 of Forbidden Ride
Chapter One
Ishiver, clutchingthe steering wheel. I’m in the thick of a snowstorm from hell. I’d hoped I left early enough to miss it, but no such luck. I’m only halfway up the grade. My SUV is straining like it’s on its last legs, as if it has to dig in and focus to reach the top of the mountain.
My stomach curdles with regret. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken this trip. Do I even have the right to take a little time to myself when I know my kids will miss me so much? I have three. The twins, Leo and Lara, are four, and my big boy, Jessie, is six.
I clasp the steering wheel tighter, narrowing my eyes on the hairpin turn, and try not to think about the cliff on my left. There isn’t a guardrail. One wrong move and I’ll be airborne, plunging to my death.
I haven’t been away in over a year, and even this trip took months of planning. It isn’t like Huck, my ex, helps out. He left me three years ago for a big-titted buckle bunny he met at our local bar, Boondocks. The two of them left town about a month after they hooked up. As far as Huck’s concerned, the kids and I don’t exist. It killed me at the time.
It still hurts, but I try not to dwell on how awful he treats us because I don’t want my bitter disappointment to rub off on the children.
Besides my own kids, I wrangle thirty of other people’s on a weekday basis. Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching third grade, but everyone deserves a break sometimes.
I check my rearview mirror and scare the crap out of myself when my haggard thirty-two-year-old face stares back. Yikes. Jenny West, youneedsome time away.
But who cares what I look like? I’m almost at the cabin, and I’m not planning on seeing anyone. This weekend is all about bubble baths, chick flicks, romance novels, and wine—doing whatever I want, eating and drinking whatever I choose, when I choose to do it.
The snow is really coming down now. I can barely see past the thick white sheets blanketing the road in front of me. I silently thank my brother Chase for insisting I let him check out my car before I left.
Everything’s in perfect working order and I have all new tires, so I should be okay. I haven’t passed another car for miles and sure wouldn’t want to get stranded up here. The sun went down thirty minutes ago, and there’s no light to speak of except for my headlights.
I turn into the bend and feel my tires slip over the ice.Shit.I straighten, white-knuckling the steering wheel. The snow pelts my windshield like I’ve hit a hive of fat bees and they’ve splattered all over my window. I can’t see a damn thing. I can’t hear my romance audiobook, so I shut off the stereo.
The windshield wipers are cranked to the max, swiping as fast as they can, but the snow is dumping faster. Banks of white surround me on either side. I peer through my windshield and squint at the blinding white glare.
I’m so discombobulated, I’m not sure I’ll even see the turn-off to my cabin.
I take a deep breath to calm myself as I steer into another hairpin curve. The tires slip again, and my stomach flips with doom. Maybe I’m going too fast. I tap the brakes and feel the car begin to slide as I navigate into another turn. The SUV picks up speed as it heads downhill.
I let out a sigh when I finally make out the bent metal sign for our family’s cabin up ahead. I’m so close now but moving too fast. I touch the brakes. The car makes a gutturalwhoopsound and hurls into a violent slide.
“No, no, no,” I mutter, hanging onto the wheel as tight as I can, trying to gain control. The slide turns into a tight spin. The vehicle lifts and pulls out from underneath me as if it has a mind of its own.
“Shit!” The snow crunches beneath the tires and hammers overhead. The steering wheel whips out from under my palms, turning sharply all by itself. My heart bangs against my chest. I can’t see where I’m going. “No!” I’m spinning and spinning and heading off the road.
Please, God, help me.
Something crashes against the passenger side. The force hurls me against my door, making me bash my shoulder against the frame. My foot’s off the pedal, and I quickly grab the steering wheel to control the vehicle.
Thank God. I seem to be slowing. The spin loosens, and I cling to the shred of hope that maybe I’ll come out of this in one piece. But then—fuck.The tires lift off the ice.My stomach drops. I’m airborne, and it’s quiet.
My heart jumps to my throat and I wait—for the fucking end of my life?
The tires touch down again with a massive crunch and a thundering boom that kicks me off my seat. The seat belt tightens over my ribs, constricting me so much that I’m sure something’s breaking, and I hurtle down an embankment. No, no, no! This can’t be happening!
Everything I brought with me—my purse, thermos, phone, chips, and snacks—goes whirling past me and crashes into the back of the SUV. I barrel past trees, shrubs, wood, and rocks, hearing them scrape and thump against the exterior.
Dear God, how is this going to end? Will I hit one of these trees head on? Smash into a boulder? Will the engine explode? What’s going to make this car sto—
