Finding You (By You #3) (29 page)

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

She grinned. "You always have a way of reading me."

"You always have a way of letting me know you're thinking something," he countered.

"I do?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "You just get this look about you. I don't know what it is, but I can always tell when something's going on."

Her eyes narrowed on him, and then she stuck her tongue out and raised her hands to her temples, wagging them back and forth like a third grader might do to one of their friends.

"So what do you make of
that
look, Mr. Smartypants?"

He let out a laugh. "I think that's just your flirty face."

Sarah's smile spread from ear to ear. She glanced back to see if Reagan was watching their crazy antics, but she and Dylan were already getting to know each other a little more...personally. If the drive were going to be too much longer, she might actually have to separate them before they got around to
really
breaking in her car.

"So, really...was something on your mind?" Jeremy asked, again.

"I was just wondering what it was that you were thinking, earlier. What you were going to tell me if I had really won your crazy little bet."

He nodded his head, slowly, but didn't say anything for a while. She glanced over at him, again, but he didn't return the look. He had a pensive look on his face, like he was trying to decide whether or not he was going to tell her. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more excitement built in Sarah's chest, and the harder her heart raced.

Finally, Jeremy did say something.

"I was going to tell you that you're the most incredible girl I've ever met. I was going to tell you that for the longest time I didn't think I would ever be happy again. I was going to tell you that I think you saved my life."

Sarah bit her lip as she looked at him. Heat was rushing to her cheeks, but it wasn't embarrassment. It was the flood of emotions that came with realizing once and for all that she was hopelessly in love with this man. She didn't care that they had only known each other for a few weeks. She didn't care that she had just gotten out of a serious relationship. She didn't care about any of that. And she wasn't afraid to admit it, anymore.

Tate was right. This was a night to remember.

It was the night she realized that love didn't make sense, and that it didn't need to. It wasn't about rules or boundaries, rights or wrongs, or any other foolish thing people would have you believe. It was about him and it was about her. It was about the way he made her smile, it was about the way he made her nervous, it was about the way he promised her everything was going to be alright, and it was about the way he made her laugh so hard she couldn't even remember anything bothering her in the first place. It was about that connection that drew them together, that connection that turned two halves into a whole. That's what love was about. And nothing else mattered.

A tear ran down her cheek as she looked over at him. He flashed a tiny, nervous smile at her, but was clearly waiting for her to say something, to respond to what he had just told her.

"Jeremy," she said, solemnly. "I know sitting in the front seat of my car while we drive home isn't the most romantic place, but I need you to know something..."

He nodded at her to go on, that he was listening.

"Jeremy..," she began. "I--"

But Sarah didn't get to finish what she wanted to tell him. The last thing she saw were Jeremy's eyes widen in horror as he reached out for her.

And then everything went black.

Pain shot through Jeremy's entire body, jolting him to a state of fuzzy awareness. His head throbbed and his face felt like someone had used it as a punching bag. Something was crushing his chest, as though someone were sitting on it, and his breaths came in quick, shallow wheezes. He tried to sit up and pull himself out of bed, but his tangled mess of sheets was holding him down.

A high-pitched, shrill noise nagged at the back of his mind. He wasn't sure what it was, but he just wanted it to go away. His alarm clock. Yes, that's what it must be. It was screaming at him that it was time to get up. He tried to untangle himself from the sheets, just enough to reach the snooze button, but his arms were heavy and didn't want to cooperate with his brain. He felt like he was in one of those dreams where you're trying to run from something, but your legs won't move, no matter how hard you try.
 

Am I dreaming?
 

Maybe he'd had one too many the night before and was still feeling its affects. After all this time he should have been better about cutting himself off, but he never bothered to. He wasn't about to be
that
guy. You know--the sober guy at the party that dragged everyone else down. He was Remy, and people looked up to him. That meant something.

Jeremy reached even farther for whatever was making that God-awful noise, but he couldn't seem to get to it. His hands slammed into stuff that shouldn't have been there, and it took him a few seconds to realize that something wasn't quite right.

Wait, that's not your alarm. But why won't it shut up and let me sleep? And why does my bedroom smell like a gas station?

He twisted and fought with the sheets even more, a subtle sense of urgency spurring him on. He just wanted to shut whatever that damned thing was off so he could curl back up and sleep off the hangover, or whatever was causing the pounding in his head. Finally, he got his arms free and beat at the sheets a few times until he felt something tear and they fell up, out of his way.

Fell up?

That was when he realized the entire world had been turned over on itself, and that was why his arms felt like they weren't working the way they were supposed to. He looked down and saw the thing that was squeezing his chest so hard, the thing that was holding him in place. And that was when his head pieced everything together, and he remembered what had happened.

Jeremy fumbled with the seat belt, trying to get the thing unlatched. But it wasn't cooperating. He looked over to the passenger side of the car, where the screaming was coming from, and panic tightened around his chest, making it even harder to breathe, even harder to focus on what he needed to do.

The entire side of the car was gone. Where it should have been was black pavement and twisted metal. And one other thing--the thing that terrified him the most.

Dani tossed her head back, screaming in pain. She was pinned beneath the side of the car, and the entire upper half of her body was covered in thick, red blood. She reached for him while trying to pull herself free from beneath the car. He had to get to her, had to help her. But he couldn't get the damned seat belt off.

"I'm coming, Dani," he said, frantically. "I'm coming, just sit still."

Why won't this damned thing let me go?

Jeremy twisted and and jerked his whole body while pushing the little red release button. He kicked with his feet, trying to push them against anything that would give him a little extra leverage, but there wasn't anything. Nothing was working, the seat belt just wouldn't let him go. He was just as pinned as she was, and he didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, hands reached in from the driver's side. They wrapped around his shirt and pulled him until it felt like the seat belt was going to tear him in half. He swatted at them while gasping for air.

"Hold on, kid, I got you," said a man's voice.

The hands disappeared for a moment, and when they came back there was something shiny in them. The man ducked himself down into the side of the car, and began sawing at the seat belt strap with a tiny pocketknife.

"Don't," Jeremy yelled at the man. "Stop it. Help her. She needs help."

He pointed at Dani, trying to get the man to help her, instead. It was just a stupid seat belt, he could get himself out of it. But the man ignored him. He just kept sawing at the seat belt, until it finally tore apart.

When it gave way, Jeremy fell to the ground, landing on the back of his neck and shoulders. His body tipped over to the side after he hit the ground, but before he could even get control of himself, the man had his arms wrapped around Jeremy's body, and he was pulling him from the car.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Jeremy screamed, trying to twist himself free. "Let me go, I have to help her. Let me go." But the man still wasn't listening, and his arms were as strong as steel. Jeremy struggled against them, trying to free himself, trying to get back to her, but those arms wouldn't budge.

"Dammit let me go, what the hell are you doing? Help
her
."

He could still hear her screaming from inside the car. The smell of gasoline was even stronger now, the pavement was slick and wet with it. Flames licked and fluttered from the undercarriage of the upside down car--their dance was sinuous and deadly.

He kicked and screamed, flailing around in an attempt to get free of the vice like grip pulling him farther from her, farther away from those spreading flames.

But the man was too strong.

"No," Jeremy screamed. "We've got to get her out of there. She needs help, she needs help!"
 

"We can't, kid. I'm sorry."

Jeremy watched in horror as the flames spread even faster, wrapping around the entire car. Red paint withered and fell away as dark smoke plumed and blew in the wind. In a matter of seconds the pile of twisted metal, barely recognizable as his dad's Audi, was turned into a huge fireball--its heat washing over Jeremy's face, even from far away.

Right then, Jeremy knew Dani was still alive somewhere inside that twisted wreckage. He knew, because he could still hear her screaming.

It was the screaming all around him that finally got through to him. No, not screaming, just a loud ringing, a deafening ring. Jeremy forced his eyes open and shut, quickly, struggling to make them see straight. His vision was blurred and disjointed, but he had to get his bearings.

Dani
.

Memories of that nightmare returned to him in a flood, and washed away just as quickly when he realized exactly where he was, right then. Everything that had just happened snapped into place, and his heart pounded heavily in his chest as he saw the top half of Sarah wedged between the center console and the front dash. She wasn't moving.

Oh my God. Not again
.

"Sarah? Sarah can you hear me?" he said, pulling on her shoulder.

The side of her that he could see looked fine--he couldn't see any blood or anything--but the way she was crammed down near the floorboard didn't look good.

"Sarah, please talk to me.
Please
."

He knew he sounded frantic, but he didn't care. If anything had happened to her...

He bent down, trying to wriggle himself so he could get a better look at her. They'd been hit from the side, just behind where she was sitting, and both of the front seats had been crushed into the front dash, making it nearly impossible to move. The steering wheel was practically in his lap, pinning him against his seat. The passenger's side, where Sarah had been sitting, looked even worse. If she'd been buckled in like he told her...

"Jeremy?"

Her voice was faint, but it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

"Sarah? Can you hear me?" He grabbed onto her shoulder, again, giving it a soft squeeze. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes, I can feel it." She gave a little jerk, trying to move herself. "Jeremy, what happened?"

"It was just a little accident, babe. Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here."

She jerked again, this time trying to twist the other way, but still didn't move much.

"Where's Reagan? Is she okay?"

Jeremy glanced into the backseat, or what had been the backseat. But he jerked his head forward, just as fast, as his stomach started rolling over on itself. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He had to breathe. He had to think. He could only do one thing at a time.

"Um, they're fine, hon. Let's just worry about getting you out of here."

He bent his hand as he tried to slide it into his pocket. He could feel the bulge of his phone pressing into his leg, if he could only get to it. He stretched his fingers, and finally hooked them around the end of the phone, and was able to slowly wiggle it out of his pocket.

Sarah jerked one more time, and then he heard her let out a frustrated sigh.

"I think I'm stuck."

"Don't worry, it's not a problem. Give me a sec and I'll have you right out of there. Here, can you put your hand up? I'm going to give you my phone so you can call 911."

She bent and twisted her arm so that it was almost behind her, but it was enough for him to slide the phone to her.

"Why can't you call them?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Just call them and talk to them, I'm going to get us out of here."

"Okay," she said.

Jeremy pinched his eyes closed as he waited until he heard the beeping of the buttons on the phone. He hoped talking to them would distract her long enough for him to figure something out. He just needed to think.

Take a deep breath. Focus. You can do this. Everything's going to be okay.

First things first--he had to get himself out before he could help her. They'd been slammed up against a light pole, so opening his door wasn't an option. The passenger side door was a mangled mess, and he didn't think they'd be able to get over to it even if it would open. Going out the back wasn't going to happen because they wouldn't be able to make it over their own seats.

So that left only one option...

Jeremy fumbled with the steering column, searching for the rotator release on the bottom side.
Please still work
, he though, as he pulled it. The steering wheel tilted up toward the dash, and he let out a held breath. It wasn't much extra room to move around, but it would have to be enough.

With that extra room, he was able to lift himself up just enough to curl one leg under himself at a time. It was slow going, but eventually he was able to get both of his legs under him. He suddenly wished he had started taking yoga all those years back when his mom suggested it.