Page 75 of Perfect Alpha

“I know what you mean,” I agree. “We need care for AidanandDad. It’s just become too much for us, and we need help.”

Aidan isn’t happy about being dragged along for an impromptu car ride. He was watching a show he liked, and when I offer to put it on the TV in the back of the seat, he cries harder and says it’s his truck that he misses. The truck I didn’t grab.

Hannah sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault the car is broken. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

She’s a bundle of nervous energy as though she’s about to be late for her wedding. “Can you go a bit faster? You’re driving like a grandfather. We have a huge birthday party in the private room tonight, and I need to be there to help. Plus, the tips should be really good.”

“I’m not speeding with Aidan in the car.”

Hannah sets her hand on my forearm when I shift gears. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and I love you.”

“It’s okay, kid,” I reply tightly. “I know you’re on edge.”

When we hit the longest red light in town, maybe in the world’s history, Hannah curses under her breath. “Of course.”

“They won’t care if you’re a few minutes late,” I assure her. “I’m doing the best I can in the snow, okay?” Christmas is around the corner, and it’s certainly become a winter wonderland.

Aidan screams that he wants to go home, and his grating whine is like a knife scratching pristine glass. No vehicles are coming from the opposite direction. I want this trip to be over so badly that I almost take Hannah’s advice and just run the red.

“How has the light not changed if there aren’t any other cars?” Hannah complains. “Why did it change to begin with?”

“These are the unanswered questions of the universe,” I mutter.

“You should have gone the other way,” Hannah complains.

“Aidan,” I snap, and he instantly stops screaming. He knows how rarely I pull out my no-nonsense voice, and that I mean business when I do.

“That’s enough, buddy,” I tell him softly. “We’re driving your mama to work, and then we’ll go home. Screaming will not make that happen any faster.”

When the light finally changes, everyone in the truck lets out a sigh of relief. In my peripheral vision, I note another pickup approaching the intersection on the right, but he has the red light now and is obviously going to stop.

He’s driving like he’s on a racetrack, though, and I honk my horn to get his attention in case he somehow hasn’t seen us, the red light, or all the black ice.

“Jesus, he’s coming fast,” Hannah observes.

When it becomes clear that heisn’tgoing to stop, I have a split second to make a decision. Praying it’s the right one, I speed up to get us out of harm’s way. But the other driver also accelerates, which is compounded by erratic driving.

The crushing impact sends my truck flying and completely stuns me, the seatbelt cutting so hard into my chest that I can’t breathe. My ribs crack with a shocking burst of pain, and my neck jolts at an unnatural angle.

I try to reach for Hannah, but my hands are shaking so badly that I can’t control them. My body jerks painfully as the truck rolls more times than I can count before landing back on its tires with a hard thud.

There’s an eerie moment of complete silence while I frantically try to unbuckle my seatbelt.

“Hannah!” I scream. “Aidan! Fuck.Fuck!Are you guys okay?”

My chest is so tight that none of my organs fit inside my body anymore.

I’m having a heart attack.

Everything is broken.

Oh, God.

At least let me save Hannah and Aidan before I die.

I scream their names, again and again, desperately needing to hear their voices.

---