Still nothing. No whirr of the starter, no heater comes on, no light brightens the interior, not even the click of a solenoid. Nothing. Just my fucking luck. The day I decide to drive home is the day my faithful old car that I’ve had for years finally gives up. Just dies on me. A couple of sputters and then… nothing. As if that’s not bad enough, it’s also the day the sky decides to pour out all its issues on me.
At this point, I've vented all my rage out on the steering wheel, and I'm now just resting back, waiting for the first passerby to show up and have mercy on me. Hoping the firstpasserby turns out to be a good Samaritan, not an axe-wielding mass murderer.
Time goes by. Very slowly. It’s beginning to get dark, and not just from the rain. Dusk is fast approaching and I really don’t want to end up out here all night.
After several useless attempts, I’ve given up trying to start the engine or get anything electrical working. If I could at least have the heater running it wouldn’t be so bad, but no. It’s just me and the relentless rain lashing down outside. Of course, the rainfall has really brought the temperature down. I don’t have a thermometer, but I am guessing it can’t be more than 50 degrees outside, perhaps a bit less. Without any heat in the car, the cold, damp air is fogging up the window glass as it seeps into the vehicle.
After sitting in just the lightweight clothes I have on, hoping that the rain will eventually stop, I catch my teeth chattering and I decide it’s hopeless waiting any longer. The rain is still pounding down, but it’s worth getting wet in exchange for warmer clothes. Reluctantly I open my door, climb out and make a dash for the rear trunk, gasping in the sudden coldness and wetness of the torrential rain. I grab both bags, half sobbing as rivulets of water run down my neck, soaking my shirt and bra. I slam down the trunk and drag my bags back with me, fighting against the wind, and flinging them onto the back seat before diving back into the driver’s compartment and slamming the door closed behind me.
Great, now I’m both cold and soaking wet. But at least I have spare clothes. I wriggle out of the soaking clothes I’m wearing, my skin clammy and pale. I use a few T-shirts to vigorously rub myself dry, which also has the benefit of warming my skin a little. From my bags I fish out a clean T-shirt, a pair of jeans, a warm sweater and my insulated walking jacket and put them on,not without some difficulty in the cramped space between seat and steering column.
A memory surfaces from nowhere. Reid and me, in his truck one evening. The passion overtaking us to the extent we couldn’t wait to get home, so we went for it out there on the back seat, parked—where were we? Somewhere remote. Was it a campsite? Or maybe a trailhead somewhere? It seems a long time ago now, and I smile ruefully as I struggle into my jacket. The kind of smile that only makes the silence feel worse.
No passionate love-making for me tonight. Just me, all alone in the middle of nowhere, and the awkwardness of getting a still slightly clammy body dressed inside a vehicle. Still, by the end of the exercise I am back to being pretty much dry again, and a heck of a lot warmer.
No nearer to being rescued, though.
I try to keep myself occupied, so I don't feel the time pass. It's hard to do that and not think about the men, though. I wonder if Luke is with Reid right now and what they're up to. I also wonder if Talon's back from wherever he went off to. Did he notice that my car was gone?
If he did notice, did he even care?
"Why are you doing this to yourself, Sierra?" I shouldn't want him to care. If I was in the least concerned for him, I’d hope he didn’t, since him caring will only hurt him more. That’s the sensible approach. The logical one. But I’m not that mature. In my heart I know damn well that in reality I hope all three of them are missing me. Because I now realize—with a certainty that makes it obvious—just how much I am missing all three of them.
In a novel, they’d come back from doing whatever they’d been up to, realize I'm gone, and immediately see that even if they do miss me, they’re much better off without me. Yes, they would quickly realize how stupid it would be to let some womancome along and ruin their friendship or worse, dismantle the wonderful lifestyle they have worked so hard for at the retreat.
"Trust me, she's not worth all this," Reid would say, and they'll nod in agreement.
"I don't know what came over me," Luke would say next.
"We must have lost our minds for a second there," Talon would conclude, and then they’d all laugh, hug, and be friends again, and I’d only be a forgotten memory.
Will it be like that for them?
The thought of it squeezes around my heart like a fist. Because however much my head says that’s the best outcome, my heart says something very different.
Flashing lights behind me hit my rearview mirror. A vehicle climbs the hill and heads towards me.
Relief floods my body.
“Oh my God, please stop.” I hurriedly push open my door and wave them down, letting them know I'm here.
But as the car gets closer, my relief turns into something else entirely.
It’s Reid’s truck coming up behind me, Luke in the passenger seat, and Talon right behind them.
Oh shit.
Luke is first to reach me, out of the passenger seat before Reid’s even pulled to a halt, and storming up to my car. I close the door before he gets there, not because I'm scared of him, but just out of pure shock.
“Are you out of your mind?” I can hear him yelling through the glass. I've never seen him this angry before.
Well, except for a few hours earlier when he was beating the shit out of Tal.
This is a different type of anger, though. This anger is mixed in with fear, pulsing in his blue eyes. The rain is still comingdown hard, slicking his hair to his skin, and probably obscuring his vision, but he doesn't seem to care.
He's standing there, soaked to the skin, waiting for me to answer.
I'm wallowing in my shock.