Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
"C-all me b-a-ck," Jess demands, no nonsense even with the distortion.
"Yeah, I will." I launch myself out of the SUV into the storm. Rain immediately soaks through my shirt and jeans, far colder than expected. Jesus Christ. How long has the woman been out in this?
She was out here, right?
I know I've been tired, but not tired enough to hallucinate a woman in the storm…right?
For a second, I'm not entirely sure. And then I see the faint outline of footprints in the mud.
"Hello?" I shout into the wind.
"I'm so sorry!" a soft voice cries from behind me.
I spin around.
"Jesus." I blink, wipe my eyes, and then blink again. She's real, all right, huddled at the back of my SUV in a thin blouse and a skirt, both soaked to her skin. Her shoulder-length brown hair is plastered to her head. Even soaking wet and shivering, she's beautiful, with big doe eyes, a button nose, and the softest, sweetest curves. She's also pale…too pale.
"I…um…" She's staring at me like she's looking at a ghost.
Fuck me.
Does she recognize me? Maybe. Or maybe she's just frozen and in shock.
"What the fuck are you doing in the road?" I ask, not intending for the question to come out in a frustrated growl. But it's too late to take it back now. "I nearly ran you over."
"I was d-delivering b-b-books," she says through chattering teeth. "My c-car d-died."
"So you decided to walk?"
"There's a h-house…" She points back the way I came. I turn that way, but it's not like I can see anything. And if I passed a house, it was raining too hard to see it. "A m-mile or s-so…"
She was going to walk a mile in this? She'd be lucky to make it half that distance.
As if to prove my point, another bolt of lightning splits the sky open, arcing toward the ground. The woman jumps when the unmistakable crack of it splintering a tree echoes down the road.
The gravel at my feet vibrates when the tree falls with a muffled boom somewhere in the distance.
"We can't stay out here," I mutter, my heart thudding against my ribcage. "Get in."
She nods solemnly, her eyes wide with fear, and then scurries to the passenger side of my SUV. I jump back into the driver's seat, slamming the door closed. She climbs in a second later, dropping into the seat like she's afraid a tree is going to fall on her if she isn't fast enough.
"Here." I crank the heat, turning the vents to face her.
"T-thank you," she whispers, wrapping her arms around herself. Her teeth are still chattering. Her lips are tinged blue. If she doesn't warm up soon, she's going to end up with hypothermia.
I fish around in the console for anything to help her dry off a little, but only come up with a handful of takeout napkins. They aren't nearly adequate, but they're all I've got at the moment.
"Here." I press them into her shaking, frigid hands. "Use these. My cabin is up ahead somewhere. I'm taking you there."
"Okay," she says, not even arguing.
I pull back out onto the road, sitting upright to keep my eyes on the road. But every few seconds, my gaze drifts to her. She's using the napkins, trying to dry as much of herself as she can, but they're already soaked through and falling apart in her hands. And she's still drenched.
"How long were you out there?"
"H-half an hour, maybe?" Her nose scrunches, a cute little furrow appearing between her brows. "I t-tried to wait it out in the car for an h-hour, but I was w-worried a t-tree might fall on me."
"No cell phone?"
"No s-service in the canyon."
I glance at my navigation screen for confirmation. Sure enough, there's a slash through where the reception bars should be, indicating that I'm shit outta luck on service.
Awesome. Jess is going to love that.
We drive in silence for several minutes, my eyes darting from her, to the road, and then to the navigation screen every few seconds. After a good five minutes, we still haven't come across her car, and I'm starting to wonder if maybe it isn't out here at all.
"What's your name?" I ask, carefully navigating the SUV around a massive fallen branch blocking half the roadway. Guess we know what got struck by lightning now.
She makes a tiny, distressed sound beside me.
I open my mouth to ask what's wrong…but I don't have to ask. I spot the trunk of a car—her car, judging by the shaken look on her face—sticking out from beneath the branch, and my jaw clenches.
Jesus Christ.
I glance over at her again. Her face is pale, her eyes terrifyingly wide. She's trembling, but I don't think it's entirely from the cold this time. She was inside that car half an hour ago. If she hadn't decided to walk to safety…