Page 63 of Powerless
And the ring doesn’t stop me.
18
Sloane
Dad:Sloane, it’s time for you to answer my calls. I raised you better than this. I know you can be highly emotional, but this is too far. Pull yourself together and behave like a Winthrop.
Harvey:How are you kids holding up?
Sloane:Good. Spent the night in Rose Hill. Should be in Ruby Creek this afternoon. Will keep you posted.
Harvey:How’s my boy?
Sloane:Good. Fine.
Harvey:And how are you?
Sloane:Hungover.
Harvey:He driving you to drink?
Sloane:Pretty much.
Iturn my head back out the window as we crest the top of the mountain pass. Visibility has gotten worse. I can see the red taillights of the few vehicles around us and feel the truck straining to chug its way up the steep incline. In the side mirror, I can see the big round bales strapped to the flatbed, two layers fit together like puzzle pieces and covered with tied-down tarps to keep them from getting wet.
My ears pop as we hit the top altitude and start our descent, the front end of the truck pointing downward suddenly. A soft grunt comes from Jasper, and I turn to look at him. His thick brows are furrowed as he glances between the dash and the road.
“Turn the music down, Sloane.”
It’s already quiet, but I do it anyway because the tone of his voice jarring. There’s a note of anxiety, a note of authority, that has my hair standing on end.
We’re picking up speed now, and when I shift to peek at the speedometer, it creeps up incrementally second by second. A hazard light glows red just beside it.
“Jas,” I breathe out. “What’s wrong?” My chest is tight, and without even knowing what’s going on, my right hand reaches up to grab the roof handle.
“You’re buckled in, right, Sunny?” Jasper bites out, not once looking my way.
My eyes drop to both of our seat belts. “Yes,” fear bleeds into my voice.
“Sloane. Relax. I’m going to keep you safe, okay? Tell me you understand that.”
I’m nodding rapidly at him, but no words spring from my lips. They’re clamped shut too tightly.
“Talk to me, Sunny. Who found you that night when you got lost in the woods playing capture the flag?”
We’re just going faster and faster.
“You did.”
“Who bandaged your feet?”
“You,” I whimper, watching the speedometer creep up.
“Who broke you out of that fucking sham of a wedding?” he growls, tone dropping, like this is the time to be mad about that. When we’re both about to die.
“You, Jas. You. Always you.” My hand grips the front of the seat so hard I feel like I might rip the leather.
“The brakes that connect to the trailer are malfunctioning. I can only slow us down so much.”
