Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
The road is dark with thick forest on each side, no lights for miles.
I turn the radio off, needing my full concentration as I try to stay on the road. The plows haven’t passed, but I guess they’re short-staffed since it’s Christmas Eve.
My heart is pounding as my car makes little jerks to each side, losing control for split seconds at a time. I hate this…
I’m far away from the soup kitchen when big headlights begin to approach in the opposite direction. I swallow hard as I white-knuckle the steering wheel.
God, they’re so bright. They’re blinding…
That looks like a big SUV coming.
My pulse races as the headlights get closer. Adrenaline peaks.
With the mounds of snow on each side of the road, the area to drive in has shrunken to dangerous levels. There’s not a lot of room to pass each other. It’s going to be close.
I suck in a breath and hold it in as my car slips to the left. “No!”
It picks the worst time to lose control. I scream as my front bumper suddenly swerves and goes careening into the bright headlights.
The ice spins the car until my headlights are pointed on the trees and the approaching headlights are lighting me up through the passenger side window.
I scream in terror as they come closer… closer… about to smash into me.
I’ll be spending Christmas in a hospital. Or in a morgue. I’ll find out soon enough.
They make an abrupt turn, plunging me back into darkness as the SUV rips to its left and flies off the road into the heavy snow with a horrible sound. My car flies forward through the snowbank with a crunch and skids to a stop right before the trees.
I stare at the large trunk of an oak tree in front of me as I try to catch my breath. My heart is hammering in my chest. I nearly died. I could have died. What the fuck?!
When I’m able to compose myself enough to turn my head around, I see the SUV across the road stuck in the snow, headlights pointing into the other side of the forest.
I swallow hard as I grab my hat, shove it on, and rush out to check on them. Shit. They’re going to be so pissed.
It’s eight o’clock on Christmas Eve. They’re probably headed to a family party or a night with friends and here I come with my shit car and meek existence to run them off the road and ruin it all.
I feel terrible.
My feet sink into the heavy snow as more thick flakes come down, collecting on my hat and shoulders. “Come on,” I mutter as I sink to my upper thighs with every step. I’m soaked.
The road is easier to walk on, but it’s even more slippery. No wonder my car went careening off it. It’s pure ice under a layer of snow.
The big black SUV is parked at a weird angle. The door opens as I rush to it.
“Are you okay?” I shout as I jump into the snowbank and continue trudging forward. “I’m so sorry!”
A man in a suit and long jacket steps out and turns to me.
I jerk my head back in surprise when I see him. He stares at me with a heated look, falling snow slowly gathering on his black jacket and in his dark hair.
He’s beautiful. Just the kind of guy I would run off the road—rich, successful, hot, and on his way to a party. One second with me in his life and that’s all gone out the window. His plans are shot. So is his truck.
“I don’t know what happened,” I say with my voice racing. “I was trying to drive straight and I must have hit a patch of ice and then my car was turning and your lights were coming and I was so scared and there was nothing I could do…”
The words finally stop when the tears start pouring out. All of the nerves and emotions I was dealing with before mix together and I start balling in front of this handsome stranger.
Geez. Can I get any more pathetic? Seriously…
I cover my wet eyes with my gloves as my shoulders shake.
The crunching sound of his footsteps hit my ears and then I feel warm comforting arms around me, holding me close as I cry.
He’s a stranger. He’s probably some creep. I should push him away and run back to my car. He has no business hugging me. We don’t know each other at all. It’s inappropriate.
But I sink into that hug and cry into his chest. It feels so good to be held like this. It feels so good to have someone care. Even if he is a total perv.
“There’s no crying on Christmas Eve,” he says in a deep smooth voice that has the cold leaving my bones, replacing it with an unexpected warmth.