Settling Ashes: A New Adult/College Romance (The Ashes Series Book 2) by Diana Gardin Page A
Authors: Diana Gardin
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move in slow motion, but I’d never really understood it until after that car smashed into the side of my own. Because at that moment, life slowed to a crawl, taking its time in moving from one minute to the next. The world as I knew it faded to a dim gray, and a new reality began to take shape, to my horror, right in front of my disbelieving eyes.
The breath was knocked out of me after the initial impact, and I heard nothing as my SUV was lifted off its tires. It seemed to hang suspended in the air before finally tilting, tilting, and flipping over on its roof. It rolled again twice more before finally settling comfortably on its top, and everything was dark and silent.
Too dark.
Too silent.
The silence was the soul-chilling part. I expected to hear an abundance of sound, not an absence of it. I never lost consciousness, although I felt my shoulder knock repeatedly against the driver’s side door as we rolled.
When we stopped and the screeching of metal against asphalt halted, there was just nothing. The car radio wasn’t blaring, the engine wasn’t running, and Paige wasn’t talking.
Paige. Oh, God.
“Paige,” I croaked. I didn’t recognize my voice as my own, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere very far away, like the bottom of a well, or the end of a tunnel far beneath the sea.
“Paige, baby,” I said again, panic overtaking my frenzied brain. I reached down for my seatbelt and tried to engage the unlocking mechanism. Nothing happened. I winced as the blood rushing to my head began pulsing in my ears. We were upside down; I looked out my window and saw only blackness. The sound of a siren rose in the distance.
That was good. Sirens were good because it meant someone was coming who could cut me out of this damn seatbelt so I could get to Paige.
I reached out for her, grabbing handfuls of empty, black air.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, needles of pain slicing through my shoulder as I stretched. “Paige? Baby!”
Then I remembered something, and the thought almost stole my consciousness where the accident was unable to.
Had she gotten her seatbelt back on in time?
I reached. As far as I could, wincing from a searing pain in my chest I hadn’t before registered, straining for the opposite end of the car where Paige’s seatbelt should have been. It was engaged, and in the process of reaching for it, I found her soft flesh underneath my fingers.
I grabbed a hold of whatever part of her I could find, which happened to be her hand. I squeezed it frantically, screaming her name.
“Paige! Paige! Wake up, baby!”
No response. She didn’t squeeze my hand; I couldn’t hear anything from her at all.
I fumbled with my seatbelt again, this time tugging it frantically with my remaining strength. It snapped loose, and I was free. My body dropped a few inches and I landed on my head with a thud.
I crawled around Paige’s hanging legs, and discovered that on her side of the car there wasn’t such an absence of light. A streetlamp somewhere above just illuminated her form, and I glanced up at her face.
Covered in blood.
Paige’s face was covered in rivulets of blood dribbling from a gash that was leaking profusely on her head, just over her left eye.
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
A decidedly flat calm came rushing to the surface beneath the icy-cold fear fighting hard to drag me under. “I’m going to work on your seat belt, Paige, so I can get you out of here. Then I’m going to have to break a window, so we can get free.”
She didn’t answer. I hadn’t really expected her, but the tendrils of fear that threatened my calm stretched a little closer to the surface.
I opened the glove compartment and pulled out the pocketknife I kept amidst fast food napkins and my driver’s manual. I flicked it open and began to saw the fabric of the seatbelt. I hyper-focused on it until the fabric began to fray, and then I cut more furiously. I was surgically careful not to touch Paige with the blade, and
The breath was knocked out of me after the initial impact, and I heard nothing as my SUV was lifted off its tires. It seemed to hang suspended in the air before finally tilting, tilting, and flipping over on its roof. It rolled again twice more before finally settling comfortably on its top, and everything was dark and silent.
Too dark.
Too silent.
The silence was the soul-chilling part. I expected to hear an abundance of sound, not an absence of it. I never lost consciousness, although I felt my shoulder knock repeatedly against the driver’s side door as we rolled.
When we stopped and the screeching of metal against asphalt halted, there was just nothing. The car radio wasn’t blaring, the engine wasn’t running, and Paige wasn’t talking.
Paige. Oh, God.
“Paige,” I croaked. I didn’t recognize my voice as my own, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere very far away, like the bottom of a well, or the end of a tunnel far beneath the sea.
“Paige, baby,” I said again, panic overtaking my frenzied brain. I reached down for my seatbelt and tried to engage the unlocking mechanism. Nothing happened. I winced as the blood rushing to my head began pulsing in my ears. We were upside down; I looked out my window and saw only blackness. The sound of a siren rose in the distance.
That was good. Sirens were good because it meant someone was coming who could cut me out of this damn seatbelt so I could get to Paige.
I reached out for her, grabbing handfuls of empty, black air.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, needles of pain slicing through my shoulder as I stretched. “Paige? Baby!”
Then I remembered something, and the thought almost stole my consciousness where the accident was unable to.
Had she gotten her seatbelt back on in time?
I reached. As far as I could, wincing from a searing pain in my chest I hadn’t before registered, straining for the opposite end of the car where Paige’s seatbelt should have been. It was engaged, and in the process of reaching for it, I found her soft flesh underneath my fingers.
I grabbed a hold of whatever part of her I could find, which happened to be her hand. I squeezed it frantically, screaming her name.
“Paige! Paige! Wake up, baby!”
No response. She didn’t squeeze my hand; I couldn’t hear anything from her at all.
I fumbled with my seatbelt again, this time tugging it frantically with my remaining strength. It snapped loose, and I was free. My body dropped a few inches and I landed on my head with a thud.
I crawled around Paige’s hanging legs, and discovered that on her side of the car there wasn’t such an absence of light. A streetlamp somewhere above just illuminated her form, and I glanced up at her face.
Covered in blood.
Paige’s face was covered in rivulets of blood dribbling from a gash that was leaking profusely on her head, just over her left eye.
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
A decidedly flat calm came rushing to the surface beneath the icy-cold fear fighting hard to drag me under. “I’m going to work on your seat belt, Paige, so I can get you out of here. Then I’m going to have to break a window, so we can get free.”
She didn’t answer. I hadn’t really expected her, but the tendrils of fear that threatened my calm stretched a little closer to the surface.
I opened the glove compartment and pulled out the pocketknife I kept amidst fast food napkins and my driver’s manual. I flicked it open and began to saw the fabric of the seatbelt. I hyper-focused on it until the fabric began to fray, and then I cut more furiously. I was surgically careful not to touch Paige with the blade, and
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