CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
THE BLAZER CONTINUED forward, diving down a ditch. The front smashed into the ground, deploying the airbags. It covered my face and felt like I was suffocating. The SUV tipped to the side. My head cracked on the window. An instant wave of nausea gripped me, and my ears rang.
Powder from the airbag burned my nose, choking me. Pain radiated along my temple. I felt a warm tingle run down my spine. My eyes were too heavy to keep open. They closed on their own accord, and I lost consciousness.
The heavy smell of gasoline brought me back. The SUV was lying on its side. I struggled to shove the airbag away. “Jackson,” I cried. “Jackson!”
His body flopped over, held in place by the seat belt. Dark red blood dripped down his chest. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t moving.
“Jackson!” I screamed again. I clawed at my seat belt. My fingers were numb, but I somehow managed to press the button and released the belt. “Jackson,” I repeated. Tears blurred my already fuzzy vision. I reached out and touched his arm. He still didn’t move.
Pain began to register in my brain. My head throbbed, and my legs hurt. I manically flailed about, trying to get my legs up from under the steering wheel. I twisted and grabbed onto the seat, using it to hoist my body up.
Glass crunched under my feet as I pushed off the driver’s side window. I needed to get out and pull Jackson to safety. The scent of gas was getting stronger. All it would take was one spark, and we’d be dead for sure.
“Hey!” someone shouted. “She’s alive in there!”
The realization that other people had been involved in the crash weighed down on me. “Help!” I screamed. “Help him!”
There was a horrible screech of mangled metal. The SUV shook.
“The door’s stuck!” the same voice yelled. Someone shouted back to them, their words far and indiscernible.
“It might be too late,” a female voice spoke. “It smells like gas. Strong. Help me get them out!”
I clambered over the seat and pressed my hand to Jackson’s wound. The bullet had struck in between his neck and his left shoulder. Blood pooled around my fingers. “You’re gonna be okay,” I frantically mumbled. “You have to be!” Sirens echoed, and red and blue lights danced across Jackson’s bloodied face.
“Can you hear me?” a woman shouted. I jerked my head up, looking at the back of the Blazer. “You need to get out of there! Can you move?”
“Yeah,” I answered automatically and turned my attention back to Jackson. My body violently trembled, rendering me useless. I shook my head. “Can’t leave him,” I said hoarsely. “Can’t leave him.” Jackson’s blood dripped down my arms. Car doors slammed shut and multiple people shouted orders. I cupped a hand around Jackson’s face. “Wake up!” I yelled. “Jackson, don’t leave me!” Awkwardly contorted in the overturned Blazer, I slipped, crumpling down onto shards of broken glass.
The back passenger window broke. My mind flashed to Zane, and I thought he was here to finish us off. A low rumble of an engine shook the car. I scrambled back up, swaying when dizziness crashed down on me. My eyes threatened to close.
A horrible high-pitched sound filled the air when part of the SUV door was torn off. I looked up to see several firefighters working to cut away at the Blazer. They spoke to me, but their voices were a distant echo.
My knees gave out. I reached up, lacing my fingers through Jackson’s. His arm was outstretched, unnaturally hanging to the side. I held onto him. I began to feel cold. The vision of Jackson and I sitting at the dining room table flashed before my eyes. It was the same as it always was, but this time everything was bathed in a bright white light.
Jackson’s hand slipped from mine. I forced my eyes open and reached for him. He was lifted up, carefully moved out of the car. Then heavy hands landed on me, bringing me out to safety.
I was laid down on a gurney. I tried to sit up. The same firefighter who rescued me gently put her hands on my shoulders. “Stay,” she said. “You were in a bad car accident,” she reminded me as if I didn’t remember.
“No,” I protested and continued to fight against her. I looked up with a desperate fear in search of the black Camaro. Still down in the ditch, I wouldn’t have been able to see the road even if the emergency vehicles weren’t in the way. “Jackson,” I mumbled. An EMT buckled a strap across my legs. “No!” I shouted. “Jackson!”
“He’s okay,” the EMT told me. “We’re taking you both to the hospital.”
“You …” I started and felt the dizziness sink its claws into me. “You don’t understand.”
The EMT put an oxygen mask over my face. I swatted it away.
“I might need some help over here!” he called and picked up the mask.
“No!” I mumbled again. “My name … my name is …” My eyes were pulled closed. Someone put my hands at my sides and buckled another strap around my chest. “Ad…e…line,” I panted. “M-mill. Miller,” I forced out.
It took an enormous amount of energy to turn my head. I opened my eyes briefly, but it was just enough to see Jackson being wheeled into an ambulance. Emergency workers surrounded him. One was pumping air into him, and another had hands on his chest. I wasn’t sure if they were doing CPR or putting pressure on the bullet wound. My ears rang, and I felt the familiar feeling of my mind wanting to check out, unable to deal with what was happening.
“Adeline Miller?” someone questioned. Hearing my name jolted me to life. I tipped my head back and saw a police officer jogging over. “Did you say your name is Adeline Miller?”
“Yes,” I said and strained against the safety straps. “My family. They said they’d go after my family.”
The officer turned and said something into his radio. The EMTs pushed me forward and loaded me into a different ambulance than the one Jackson was in. The cop got in, staying in the back while the EMTs set to work on mending me.
“No,” I said when one of them tore open a plastic case and held up a needle. My hands moved over my abdomen. “Don’t hurt my … my …baby.” Saying the word brought on all of the night’s emotion.
“It’s just for an IV, honey,” the EMT spoke. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a messy bun and her brown eyes were kind. She picked up my hand, giving it a squeeze before extending my arm. “How far along are you?” she asked, wiped my skin with alcohol, and pressed at the skin inside my elbow, feeling for a vein.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Jackson,” I mumbled. “I need to go to him.”
“He’s already on his way to the hospital,” she soothed and unwrapped a needle. “You’re gonna feel a little poke,” she warned me.
The ambulance doors shut. I let my eyes close. Tears ran down the side of my face.
“Adeline,” the cop said.
My teeth chattered as I tried to keep from crying. “Yeah.”
“You’re really Adeline Miller.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been missing for over a year.” My eyes opened. Had it been that long? “Are you able to tell me what happened?”
A chill made its way down my body. The memory of that day was still vivid. I could feel the sunlight on my skin. I remembered how excited I was when I checked my email and saw one of my favorite authors had sent me an advanced copy of her book.
“We were at the Gay Pride Parade.”
“Yes, we know that,” he said gently.
“I saw him.” I stopped and swallowed hard. “I saw him doing something I wasn’t supposed to see. So he took me.”
“Who did you see, Adeline? Who took you?”
“Where’s Jackson?” I asked and tried to sit up. “I need to find him.”
“Who’s Jackson?” the cop asked. “They guy who took you?”
“No.” The EMT leaned over. “He’s the guy who was in the car with her.” She patted my hand. “Honey, your friend is on his way to the hospital. He’ll be taken care of there. You can see him in just a little bit, okay?”
I blinked back tears and nodded.
“Adeline,” the cop pressed. “Who took you?”
I didn’t want to say his name. He was evil, and I worried that speaking his name would summon him like a demon. I closed my eyes again. “Zane. I don’t know his last name.” I shook my head.
“Do you know where he is now?” he asked patiently.
“No.” The memory of Phoebe crumpled against the dumpster played out next. My heart broke all over again at the thought of her, and I started to cry.
“Maybe this should wait,” the auburn haired EMT said under her breath.
Wait. The word reverberated in my head. Wait. It was exactly what I couldn’t do.
“Please,” I spoke with more clarity. “He said if I ever left he’d go after my family. And Lynn. My friend Lynn. You have to get somebody there!”
The cop nodded and spoke into his radio again. “Do you know where this guy, Zane, would go?”
“No. Maybe back at the house,” I said and felt sick again. I wanted to be with Jackson. I wanted to hold his hand and tell him we made it, that we escaped. I wanted to press my lips to his and tell him I loved him.
“Where is the house?”
I sucked in air, on the verge of hyperventilating again. It didn’t matter where the house was if Jackson didn’t make it. Nothing mattered. I needed him. If it wasn’t for Jackson, I would be leaving for another country in a few short weeks, never to be seen again. If it wasn’t for Jackson, I would have given up.
“That’s enough for now,” the EMT said. She took my hand and talked me through quieting my breathing. I remembered what Jackson had said about saving the other girls.
“It’s okay,” I panted. I thought about the teeny-tiny little person growing inside of me and found a new type of strength. I took a long, shaky breath and looked at the police officer. And then I told him everything.