Page 5 of Next to You

My heart flew into my throat as the light from the headlights bounced dangerously close to the metal guardrail. I knew this part of the road well; if we went over the side, there would be nothing but a vertical drop into darkness and death.

Lucy squealed, grabbing onto the handle above the door and bracing her other small hand on the dashboard.

My muscles burned as I turned the truck away from the rail, scraping the side as I straightened it out and got us back on the road. I drove a few feet until we were away from the edge andslowed to a stop, throwing it into park as I tried to get myself under control.

“Shit.” I huffed out the breath I was involuntarily holding. “That was—I don’t know what that was, but I don’t want to do it again.”

“We almost went over the side, Spencer.” Her voice was small and frightened. Her hand drifted to the console between us and I took it, interlocking our fingers. I had no words of comfort to give.

Rationally, I knew we were safe for the moment but still, I glanced out the window to confirm we were on the road and not falling to our death.

“Maybe we should just stay right here,” she suggested.

“We can’t stay here. It’s still too dangerous. We can go to my family’s cabin and wait the storm out there. We’re close.”

“I don’t know?—”

I turned to her with earnest eyes. “Listen, you’ve known me since kindergarten, Lucy. My hands will be kept to myself the entire time. I swear it on the memory of my mother. You’ll be safe with me.”

“Oh no, Spencer. That’s not what I was saying. I didn’t mean to imply?—”

I had to get hold of myself. She was already frightened. She didn’t need me to add to it. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, hoping to release some of my fear along with it so I could be reassuring.

“I wasn’t trying to imply you were implying anything,” I teased, trying desperately to lighten the mood. I didn’t like that she was scared—possibly of me. “Remember Charlotte? My little sister?”

She nodded. “She’s nice. I love her books.” Charlotte was a famous murder mystery author. She’d moved back to the area not that long ago.

“Yeah, well, women have to think about shit like this no matter who they’re with, and I want you to know you’ll be safe with me. I promise.”

“I trust you. I’ve known you forever, and you’ve already saved my life tonight.”

“Yeah, that was too close. We should get off the road until the storm clears. We’re going to be fine. Try not to worry; I drive out here, in weather like this, all the time, okay?”

“Okay, let’s go. And, hey, I do trust you, I meant it when I said it.” She grabbed my hand, holding it as her eyes pleaded with me to believe her. “I sat behind or beside you in almost every class since kindergarten, okay? Please don’t think I was trying to besmirch your character.”

She trusted me.Her saying those words in that sweet voice of hers hit me straight in the heart. I refused to let her down; we’d be okay no matter what I had to do to make us that way.

“I would never accuse you of besmirching anything, Lucy.”

“Well, good.” She blurted right before her nervous laughter filled the truck’s cab. “Thank you.

“We’ll have to drive about a quarter mile up the road.”

“Shit,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow. We can make it.” I don’t know who I was trying to reassure more, her or myself.

“You got this, Spencer.” She let go of the door handle with a sheepish smile. “Let’s go. The sooner we get off this road, the better. Right?”

“Right,” I muttered, turning the wheel to ease back onto the road.

She let out a low scream when we hydroplaned again. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m such a wimp. You don’t need to listen to me carrying on like this.”

“It’s okay. If I didn’t have to focus, I’d be screaming too.”

“You’re so nice.”

I didn’t answer.

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