Page 32 of His Heart

11

Brooke

August. Age nineteen.

We pulledout of the gas station and Liam got back on the freeway. It was August, and our last weekend before the fall semester began. We’d decided to take a short road trip up to Sedona. Just a quick getaway before we had to buckle down for another term.

Headlights flashed as cars passed us. Liam had worked until eight, so we’d gotten a late start. It would be even later when we made it to Sedona, but neither of us minded. It felt like an adventure.

I twisted my engagement ring around my finger as I watched the dark scenery pass. Liam’s parents had expressed some concern about our announcement. Mostly they were worried we were too young, and we were rushing into it. I understood. We were young. But we’d reassured them that we weren’t planning to get married until after we both finished college. This was simply a promise that marriage was in our future, when we were both ready.

That had made them feel better, and they’d made it clear they’d love to have me as a daughter-in-law. Olivia had been thrilled from the beginning. She’d told her parents it didn’t matter how old we were if we were in love and meant to be together.

I wasn’t in a hurry for a wedding. I loved that I had his ring and the assurance of a future where Liam would always take care of me. That was more than enough.

Liam took a sip of his peach iced tea and put it back in the cup holder. “So what should we do tomor—”

The world went crazy. A flash of light. Crunching metal. Screeching tires. I was hurtled sideways, my seatbelt digging into my neck. An explosion of pain in my head left me dizzy. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. I couldn’t get any air. Everything spun, my limbs flailing. So much noise. Grinding, scraping sounds echoed in my ears. Glass shattered. I tasted the sharp tang of blood and everything turned over again.

We jerked to a stop. For a moment, quiet. Only the faint hum of traffic whirring past. Everything looked wrong. I blinked and tried to focus.

I was hanging upside down.

Craning my neck, I looked down at what should have been up. The ceiling was bent and dented, the windows broken. Granules of glass glittered everywhere.

So quiet. Why was it so quiet?

“Liam?” My voice croaked, the sound scraping through my throat.

No answer.

He hung upside down, his seat belt holding him in place. His arms were limp, his head bent at an odd angle against the partially caved-in cab.

Oh god. Oh god, no. Please, no.

“Liam? Liam, wake up.”

“Are you okay?” A voice from outside. Urgent. “Is anyone in there?”

“Liam,” I said, louder now. “Wake up.”

“I hear someone,” the voice said. A man’s face peered through the broken window. “Miss, help is coming, okay? Someone’s calling 911.”

“Liam.”

Liam didn’t answer. Didn’t move. So quiet. So still.

“Liam, please,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please wake up.”

“Hang in there, miss,” the man said. “An ambulance is coming.”

My body hurt in too many places to separate. Bile burned the back of my throat and my stomach turned over. My ears felt plugged, like all the noises around me were deadened. All I could hear was a steady drip, drip, drip.

It was Liam. He was bleeding, the relentless patter of his blood dripping onto the warped ceiling.

Bracing myself with one hand, I fumbled for the seat belt latch. I had to get him out of here. It released, and I crumpled against the ceiling. Crawled closer. Touched his face.

“Liam?”

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