Page 3 of Tapped

“Shit.” I quickly switch lanes to avoid a semi.

“You said shit! You always tell Dad not to say shit.”

I don’t apologize. My insides seize as my brain plays catch up to my reflexes.

I pump on the brake pedal again.

And again and again.

Fuck.

They’re out.

I look for the emergency brake, but it’s just a damn button. I’ve never once needed it while driving. This is nothing like driver’s ed.

I’m forced to change lanes again as we speed down the highway.

All I see in front of me are red lights. Traffic and construction barrels are racing toward us.

Too fucking fast.

My voice cuts through the car. “Chase!”

“Mama?”

Oh, God.

No.

Panic explodes within me.

My mind blurs.

I merge all the way to the left until I hit the narrow shoulder of the interstate. Sparks fly as I steer into the railing, but we don’t slow fast enough.

Chase screams.

The handful of horrific moments play out in slow motion like a horror movie.

“Chase, hold—” I yell, but it’s too late.

We hurl into a set of construction barrels. Nothing but orange fills my view as they crash into the hood and windshield. Metal scraping metal and breaking glass are mere background noises to my screams and Chase’s cries.

And my world goes black.

2

LIKE A GOVERNMENT AGENT?

Evie

Six months later

Taking a hiatus from your own life because of trauma sounds like a vacation.

But for me, it’s only delayed the inevitable.

This is where I wanted to be months ago. My plan was to be past this by now. A single mom. A divorced woman.

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