Chasing Abby (23 page)

I look around the room and realize that Ryder and Junior have joined Jimi. They’re all three standing in the hallway and my stomach drops when I see Ryder crying. Caleb lets go of my shoulders as I walk toward them. Ryder leans against the wall, his face turned toward the wallpaper to hide his tears.

I lean down and whisper in his ear, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Then I turn to Jimi and look her in the eye as I mouth the word “keys.” She slowly slides her hand into the pocket of her shorts and discreetly hands me the key to her Mercedes. Junior smiles when he sees this exchange.

I slip the key into my pocket, then I turn on my heel and head right past my parents toward the back door.

“Where are you going?” my mom calls out to me.

I keep going, my feet flying down the back steps. I pull the keys out of my pocket and hit the button on the key fob to deactivate the alarm. 

“Abby, come back here!” she shrieks as I slide into the driver’s seat of Jimi’s black Mercedes.

My hand is shaking as I jam the key into the ignition. The smell of leather is making me even more nervous. I’ve never driven a car this expensive. Actually, I’ve hardly driven any car of any value. I’m not sure I can safely drive Jimi’s Mercedes. If I crash today, I guess I can thank my fabulous parents and their need to protect my fragile heart.

I turn the key and the engine hums. I shift into reverse and punch the gas pedal, then I nearly pass out when the car jumps backward into the driveway, almost crashing into the block wall separating the beach house from the neighbor’s house. My mom comes bounding out of the front door. I quickly switch gears and peel out of the driveway onto Sandpiper Street, then I head toward Lumina Avenue.

I don’t know if anyone will follow me. I hope they don’t. I just need to get away.

For eighteen years, I was the sickly, fragile daughter of Brian and Lynette Jensen. Now… I don’t know who I am. When I’m with my biological parents, I don’t feel like the frail girl I was eight weeks ago. I’m different. I’m the girl who got away. The girl who was strong enough to capture my parents’ hearts in a single twenty-minute meeting and hold them captive for eighteen years.

That’s the girl I want to be. I don’t want to be fragile anymore.

I turn left on Lumina and the Mercedes grips the slick asphalt beautifully. Racing forward, I turn right onto Highway 74 and draw in a deep breath. I don’t know where I’m going. All I know is that I can’t be there right now. I need to think without my mom’s pitiful gaze penetrating me. Or the look of disappointment and hope in Chris and Claire’s eyes.

I touch the power button on the touchscreen and Jimi’s favorite playlist begins to play. I listen to the beachy, acoustic melodies and think of the past few weeks. Flashes of my parents’ hopeful faces flicker in my mind. Caleb’s face materializes, and memories of that day on the beach come rushing back to me. My body relaxes and my hands stop trembling as a smile curls my lips. Caleb is my constant.

Even when I’m being pulled this way and that way, it’s Caleb’s face, his sturdy hands, his breath so soft on my skin, his love so fragile in my hands… Caleb is the rope that keeps me tethered to reality. As long as I have Caleb, I’ll get through this.

A buzzing noise pulls me out of my thoughts and I glance at the cup holder between the seats. My phone is flashing. I pick it up and glance at the screen. It’s Caleb. 

I heave a deep sigh and answer. “Hello?”

When I turn my attention back to the road, something is wrong. The lane has moved. Or… Oh, no. It’s not the lane. It’s my car that’s veered into oncoming traffic. The last thing I hear is Caleb screaming my name before I drop the phone.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I
SMILE
AS
I
WATCH
her get into Jimi’s Mercedes. My sunshine has balls. Then my smile disappears as I remember how little driving experience she has. I shouldn’t be standing here with a smile on my face. I should be chasing Abby. 

“I’ll get her!” I shout, blowing past Lynette and Brian who are standing in the middle of the driveway, dumbfounded.

I hop into the ’Cuda, silently thanking myself for leaving the top down. I blast the car horn for them to move out of my way so I can pull out of the driveway. It takes them a couple of seconds to figure out what’s going on. A couple of the longest seconds of my life. I want to shout at them to get out of the fucking way. Finally, I pull the ’Cuda out of the driveway and peel out down the street.

She’s not even on Sandpiper anymore. She must have turned left or right on Lumina already, but I have no idea which way she went. I make it to the end of the street and inch forward into oncoming traffic, trying to get a glimpse of Jimi’s Mercedes speeding away in either direction. A horn blares in my left ear as the ’Cuda’s nose juts out into the street. I don’t give a shit. I’d block all the traffic on this damn street if that’s what it takes to find Abby.

Then I see it! The black Mercedes is heading for the Highway 74 on-ramp. I pound the horn a few times to warn people as I punch the gas pedal and gun it onto Lumina. I swerve to avoid a woman who’s getting ready to jaywalk, then I maneuver around a slow-moving pickup truck and spit curses when I hit a red light.

“Fuck!” 

A large crowd of pedestrians crosses Lumina toward the beach, completely oblivious to the fact that their need to get to the water could cost Abby her life. I want to shout at them to hurry the fuck up. Instead, I tap the steering wheel anxiously. Once the pedestrians have passed, I inch forward, checking for cross-traffic. A single gold Buick crosses Lumina, then I punch the gas, running the red light and leaving the car horns and slow pedestrians behind me.

My tires squeal as I turn onto Highway 74 at a dangerous speed. The ’Cuda fishtails a little on the on-ramp, but I manage to get it back under my control and I race forward onto the highway. I need to call her and tell her to pull over.

I fish my phone out of my pocket, glancing back and forth between the screen and the road as I hold down the voice command button and tell my phone to call Abby. 

“Calling Gabby,” the pleasant voice responds.

“No!” I shout at the phone. “Call Sunshine! Call Sunshine!”

Fuck.
Why did I have to change her name in my phone?

“Calling Sunshine,” the voice says and I let out a sigh of frustration.

The car in front of me slows down to exit, so I begin to switch lanes to get around them and the car next to me blares their horn. 

“Shit!”

I try to swerve back into my lane, but the car in front of me has slowed down so much I’m going to clip his rear bumper.

“Hello?” Abby’s voice is soft, almost tired, and it’s the last thing I hear before I drop the phone onto the floor of the passenger side.

I slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of me, grumbling as I wait for the car to exit the highway. Then I punch the gas again for two reasons. First, so I can catch up with Abby. And second, so the inertia will make the phone slide backward across the floor of the car toward me.

I keep one eye on the road in front of me as I reach for the phone, but it’s just out of my reach. I take one long look at the road ahead of me and it’s clear, so I take a chance. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I throw myself across the seat and grab the phone.

“Abby!” 

When I sit up, the ’Cuda is drifting to the left, right into an eighteen-wheeler truck. I swerve to the right, but I overcorrect and my 65-year-old car shreds through the guard railing as if it were Swiss cheese. The front wheel goes over the edge of the overpass and my first instinct is to slam on the brakes. But the moment I do this, the tail of the ’Cuda flies upward as the nose goes over the edge. All I can think as I’m thrown from the car into the deep ravine is that I failed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I
SWERVE
to bring my car back into the right lane, but the damage is done. My heart is pounding so hard and fast I can’t breathe. A sharp pain slices through my left shoulder and I double over the steering wheel. I press my foot down on the brake, but my right arm doesn’t respond when I try to reach for the gearshift. I throw my left arm across my body and push the gearshift into park. The cacophony of horns blaring around me is barely audible as I slump over the center console and black out.

I
KNOW
C
HRIS
IS
driving as fast as he can, well over the speed limit, without putting us in danger. But I just want to tell him to hurry up. The sound of Jimi’s sobs coming from the backseat are only making this worse.

“I’m sorry,” she declares through her tears. “I’m sorry I gave her the keys.”

I reach back and squeeze her knee. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is.” She pushes my hand away and pulls her feet up onto the seat to hug her knees. “I shouldn’t even go. I don’t deserve to be there.”

“Don’t say that,” Ryder says, his voice gruff from crying. He presses his fist into his forehead, as he shakes his head. “Nothing is wrong with Abby. Tell her, Mom. Tell her Abby’s fine.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I turn to Junior, but he’s just staring out the car window. He never makes a sound and his eyes never blink. We tried calling Caleb, but he never answered. Then, shortly after Brian received the call that Abby was at New Hanover Regional Medical Center, Lynette received another call as we were loading into our separate vehicles to head to the hospital. Caleb was also in the hospital. They wouldn’t give us Caleb’s status over the phone, but they told us that Abby was in surgery after suffering a heart attack and a stroke.

They actually told us she was lucky that she was able to stop the car and get into park before she passed out. I want to believe she’s lucky, but it’s hard to see it that way when she’s currently undergoing a surgery that can either save her or kill her. And
if
she wakes up, I have no idea if she’ll have Caleb there to comfort her.

“Abby’s going to be fine, baby,” I assure Ryder. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

I turn forward so the kids can’t see how much I don’t believe the words I just spoke. I can’t even bring myself to look at Chris. I don’t want to know how this is surely tearing him apart.