“I told you, it’s the next exit.”
“Do you see an exit anywhere?” I point out, growing more frustrated with her by the second.
“Put both hands on the wheel and I’ll look again,” she demands.
I growl, hurriedly reaching out to try to pluck the phone from her hands. It doesn’t work. She screams, the sound causing me to jump. She immediately reaches across the space between us, grabbing the steering wheel.
“Hands off,” I scold, trying to push her hands away so I can do my job and get her somewhere safely.
“Oh, so now you’re worried about safety?”
I try to pull her hand off the wheel, but her little fingers are wrapped around it so tightly it’s proving harder than I’d expected.
In my efforts to try and get her grip from the steering wheel, I miss the sign for the exit. Everything happens in one big blur. I’m trying to turn the wheel toward the exit ramp that’s coming into light before us. Unfortunately, Margo sees it at the same time. She jerks at the wheel, trying to point it out. The mixture of our movements together causes the wheel to go too far right. In slow motion, the tires skid down the unused exit ramp, wet snow coating the surface. One moment we’re perfectly lined up on the road, the next the sudden movements of the wheel have us skidding off the side of the road and down a small embankment.
My arm reaches out to Margo immediately, crossing her chest to try and shield her from any impact. Her scream ricochets off the SUV walls, sending my heart into disarray in pure panic that she’s hurt.
Somehow we get lucky, and the car comes to an almost immediate stop, the tires getting stuck in the thick mud and snow mixture on the side of the road.
The impact is so soft that not even the airbags deploy.
I look to her immediately, scanning her face and body for any indications that she’d been hurt. “Are you okay?” I rush, reaching out to rub my fingers down her cheek to make sure she’s okay.
“Don’t touch me,” she angrily answers, pushing my hand off her. “I’m fine.”
I’d be upset with the tone she uses with me if I wasn’t so fucking relieved that I hadn’t been responsible for her getting hurt.
“Well, that’s one way to make sure we stop,” I say, knowing I sound like the dick she’s accusing me of being.
“Really? That’s what you’re saying right now?”
“Was there something else I’m supposed to be saying?” I pull out my phone to attempt to call to help. Ezra is waiting at the private airport for us. He might be able to do something. Or l can at least try to call a tow truck.
“Yeah, how about I’m sorry I almost killed you, Margo?”
I shoot her a look. “You’re the one who was grabbing the wheel! Do you have a death wish?”
She lets out an aggravated sigh. “The only reason I grabbed the wheel is because you took a hand off it! I was just trying to keep us safe.”
I roll my eyes at her. “I don’t think it’s ever a safe choice for the passenger to grab the steering wheel. Did you take driver’s education classes?”
“You’re being an asshole right now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I be thankful for your assistance in getting us stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere?” I wave my phone between us. “With no fucking service.”
Her lips form a little O as my words register with her. She looks down at her phone to confirm my statement for herself.
We have no service.
I reach up, pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger as my eyes squeeze shut. I take a calming breath, trying to think about what our options are.
Essentially, we’re fucked. We have no service. It’s getting dark outside. Snow falls down in thick, wet clusters that makes it hard to see anything. Add in the wind and the bitter cold and it’s a fucking nightmare outside.
Plus, there’s the fun fact that the only sign of civilization is the small hint of light in the distance.
“We could maybe wait for someone to drive by?” Margo offers.
I keep my eyes shut, biting my tongue before I bite out a response that I may regret.
With a deep breath, I attempt to see if pressing on the gas pedal does anything. Maybe if I can press it hard enough, we can get unstuck. My efforts prove futile. We don’t move an inch.
“Stay in the heat,” I command. I angrily pull at the door handle, shoving the door open. I get hit in the face immediately with the blistering cold. Even pulling the collar of my coat to try and shield my face doesn’t do enough to fight the bitterness of the wind.
The headlights of the SUV blink, illuminating the night. Bending down in front of the vehicle, I look at both front wheels.
“Fuck,” I mutter, noting both wheels a fourth of way dug into mud. I don’t think there’s any way to get out without a tow.
Perfect.
I stomp back to the car, relishing in the warmth once I take a seat in the driver’s seat and pull the door shut.
“How sure are you that there’s a town near?”
She picks at her cuticles, something I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous. If I wasn’t so pissed at myself for putting us in the situation, I’d reach over and try to calm her nerves. I don’t know what to do in this situation, so I’m going to stay on my side of the SUV and stew in my anger. “I mean, it was an exit where I think it said something about a town called Sutten Mountain or something like that. Surely there’s businesses? I think…”
“You think?”
“Yes Beck, I think. It made it seem like there is, but I don’t want to say I’m totally confident in that.”
With an angry sigh, I figure out what to do. I turn to face her. “You stay in the car. Keep it locked and keep it on. I’ll be back.”
Her mouth flies open, fear in her eyes. “You’re going out in that?” Her eyes look out the front windshield, where the visibility has declined even more—something I didn’t know was possible.
“I don’t have much choice. I need to find us help.”
She chews on her lip for a few seconds. “I’ll go with you. Maybe we can find somewhere to stay for the night.”
“You’re not going out in these conditions.” My tone is harsh, but I don’t care to soften it. I might lose my god damn mind if I have to watch her trudge through the bitter cold and snow because I was too fucking jealous to stay at the nice, warm place we were offered earlier.
“Staying in the car waiting for a serial killer isn’t that great of an option either,” she spits out. Her arms cross over her chest defensively. The stare she pins on me is probably supposed to scare me. It doesn’t.
“Something tells me even serial killers aren’t out in weather like this.”
Her eyebrows lift to her hairline as she leans slightly closer to me. “Oh, so now you’re admitting how terrible the conditions are?”
My eyes roll. “The conditions are shitty out there. You aren’t going out in it.”
She defiantly stares back at me, zipping her thin coat all the way up to her chin. “If you’re going out there, so am I.”
“Not a fucking chance.”