1. The Songbird

Impending doom. Fear. Panic. Just a few of my favorite words that describe how I feel about the state of my relationship at this very moment.

Over.

A squeaking sound comes from the wheel of my shopping cart, which keeps trying to pull to the left. Figures I would grab the bum one. As the cart shakes, I continue down the aisle of Catskill Getaway’s General Store. Wine bottles gleam in the overhead fluorescents and I study the labels to make a selection.

I see Spencer’s brown haired head as he bends over the beer cooler. My blood turns to ice as he stacks his cart with more and more cases. Shoulders slumping, I pick out my wine for the weekend.

We almost hadn’t come.

Spencer hates surprises, and planning this trip without his knowledge started a fight that I worry we won’t recover from.

Things haven’t been good for a while now.

I try to hold on to the fact that he’s here, at least. That’s something right?

The corners of my mouth tick downward and I steal another glance at my boyfriend of two years while I load four bottles of wine into the shopping cart. What if he’s only here because he has nothing better to do for Memorial Day weekend?

Shaking my head I try to pull myself from that line of thinking. There’s still time to fix this, to fix us.

My grocery supplies seem to be complete. We mostly needed alcohol and a few cold items I didn’t want to bring on the long drive up from Callery. Satisfied with the contents, I call out to Spencer, “Did you want white wine or red?”

Silence.

“Good talk,” I say softly, taking a deep breath to bite back the stinging tears forming in my eyes.

Deciding it was fine, like I decide everything is fine, I roll my shaky cart to the front of the store and wait for Spencer. He shows up a moment later with five cases of beer in his cart and nothing else.

He was going to be drunk all weekend and glaring at his beer, I take comfort in knowing I’ll be wine-drunk right beside him. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it will loosen us up and we can reconnect. I snuck some naughty lingerie and toys into my bag that I plan to pull out tonight.

Maybe our relationship isn’t dead in the water.

Maybe it is.

I tug the sleeves of my shirt down to my wrists and avoid the pitying stare from the cashier. She’d seen the marks from our most recent fight. It hadn’t been a bad one, he was just frustrated that I planned an entire trip and spent all this money without telling him. She doesn’t know how much pressure he’s under from his job, and how stressed he’s been. It’s my fault, anyway. I tried to walk away from him while he was expressing himself, and that wasn’t fair to him.

So he reached out for me. Big deal. If I hadn’t tried to pull away, they wouldn’t have bruised.

Probably.

I do this sort of thing all the time. I know he hates surprises, but I still try to be spontaneous and don’t include him on things that concern him. I get he hates it, and I do it anyway. I apologized and practically begged him to come out here with me, just so we could get away. I’m lucky he didn’t just kick me out of his apartment all together.

She shouldn’t assume things she knows nothing about.

We’re fine.

I’m fine.

A flash in my mind of a colorful rectangular box sends a jolt through my body. I swear as I hurry away from the front of the store.

“Where are you going?” Spencer calls after me in a biting tone.

“I forgot cereal. I’ll be right back!”

I hear him mutter some half hearted apology to the cashier for my behavior and flinch at the surliness in his voice. Strike one against me for the day. Maybe I can salvage the rest of it when we get back to the cabin I rented.

All but sprinting to the small breakfast section, I hurriedly look for the shredded wheat, my favorite. My brows raise when I realize the store has regular and frosted.

Fuck, I hate decisions.

Yellow box or orange box? My eyes dart back and forth, deciding I could use the extra sugar. I reach for the frosted kind, pulling the last box off of the shelf and meeting a pair of the most piercing blue eyes I’d ever seen.

Surprised, I jump, and a little squeak comes out as I drop my cereal box. Bending over to pick it up, large, calloused hands beat me to it. As the box rises and I straighten from my awkward lean, it’s pressed into my grasp.

I stare at the hands that helped me and follow them to well-toned forearms, tan with veins roping down them. Biceps that look like they belong to an axe-wielding woodsman and broad shoulders to match. My neck keeps craning upward, drinking in possibly one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen on a man. Angled nose, strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and full lips that turn down at the corners.

It is as if I can feel the world spinning all around me.

“Sorry,” I mutter, staring at the blue-eyed stranger. His hair is the color of chestnuts, smooth, straight, and a little on the longer side. I desperately want to run my fingers through it.

My heart skips a beat as his hands brush against mine.

“No, it was my fault. I didn’t mean to startle you.” His voice drips honey, and I can feel the heat in my cheeks, as well as… elsewhere.

“I’m fine,” I wish my voice dripped with anything other than embarrassment and nervousness. His eyes bore into mine, and my breath hitches as the store fades. I couldn’t drop his stare, even if I wanted to.

Slowly he reaches a hand toward me, toward my face, like he will caress my cheek or brush my lips with his thumb. A pulse surges through my body and something snaps in my brain as I stare into this man. It travels down into my heart, giving me a sense of yearning. Lastly, a wave of desire settles in my core. My arousal heightens, and the wetness in my underwear is more evident than before. I am spellbound by this man.

His nostrils flare for just a moment, and as his hand grows closer to my skin, I want nothing more than for him to take me in his arms and-

“What the FUCK?”

And the moment is gone.

Turning, I find Spencer behind me, face red and brow furrowed. “What the hell is going on here, Wren?”

I am speechless, and nothing is going on. Sure, I had gotten lost in the eyes of a stranger, a six-foot-something godlike creature of a stranger, but it’s not like he caught us with our tongues in each other’s mouths.

“Spence, I-” He grips my elbow roughly, more so than he’s ever done in public. I realize this is bad. This is very, very bad.

“I didn’t come all the way out to this god-forsaken hell hole to watch my girl eye fuck some townie!” His voice is low, dangerous, and my heart races as my blood runs cold.

“Jesus, Wren. You drag me out here and pull this shit?” He grips my arm tighter, pain blooms under his grasp as he attempts to yank me away. “We’re going home.”

Suddenly, another hand darts out and lands on Spencer’s forearm. Muscles flex and Spencer’s grasp loosens.

“It would be wise for you to let her go.” Hearing the deep voice of the stranger’s insistent words, Spencer releases me. In return, the stranger lets him go.

“Fuck you, and fuck her too,” he spits out before turning on his heel and rushing for the door. Shock freezes me to the spot momentarily. Watching Spencer’s retreating form plays tricks on me. Suddenly the store is longer, the sounds around me are muffled, until the tinkling of the bell above the door is suddenly deafening.

He’s gone.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the stranger, thrusting the box back at him. Moving to take off after my boyfriend, a spike of adrenaline cuts through me when long, thick fingers lace around my wrist. This grip is gentle, a question rather than a demand. I turn back to my stranger, my heart pounds as his eyes see right through me.

“Stay with me,” he breathes. A weight behind his words tickles at the back of my mind.

I want to listen.

I want to stay here and get lost in those eyes.

In his fiery touch.

An engine roars to life in the parking lot. Blinking away from the fog of this fantasy coming to life, I pull myself from the man with little effort. Thank God. If my stranger had insisted I stay, would I have had the strength to leave his side?

I doubt it.

Running for the door and using my weight to push against its heavy metal, I hear tinking sounds of gravel spraying the cars in the lot. Spencer is whipping the car from the parking space, uncaring about damaging other people’s property. His dark eyes pour into mine, even from here. Rage and hatred are seated there and a knot begins to form in my stomach. Somewhere in the distance, thunder claps.

“Spencer!” I yell, hoping he can hear me. Finally, outside, I launch myself at the hood. “Spencer, wait!”

He lowers his window. “What are you doing?”

“Let me in!”

Jaw clenching and with a look of disgust on his face he says, “Don’t you want to go home with your new boyfriend?” I can hear the venom in his voice.

“Don’t be like this, Spence. It wasn’t anything.” He rolls his eyes. “You can’t just leave me out in the middle of nowhere!” The hot stinging of tears pricks at my eyes. Then, I hear the distinct clicking sound of the locks disengaging.

A sob escapes as the first raindrops fall from the rolling clouds above. I get in the car and buckle up, just in time for Spencer to finish backing out, kicking up even more gravel. Sparing a final glance at the store, I see my stranger walk out with something in his hands.

“My bag!” I cry as we whip out of the parking lot. “Spencer, stop. I left my bag.” It had been in the cart, and he hadn’t grabbed it.

“Fuck your bag, Wren. What the hell was going on back there?” He is heading down the mountain to Callery. He is going home, just like he said he was. I ruined our trip, and I can’t explain why. He doesn’t even care about our things back at the cabin.

I am going to pay for this, I know it.

“He startled me, I dropped the box, and he picked it up and handed it to me.” That is it. I’m not going to go into detail about my intense attraction toward this man or how he almost made me cream my jeans standing in the breakfast aisle.

His fists hit the steering wheel, making me jump. The rain is coming down harder now, and my heart beats loudly. I spare a glance at our speed and feel a concrete block drop straight into my gut. “Spencer, please slow down.”

“That wasn’t all it was, though, Wren. I saw you. You were getting all hot and bothered. You haven’t looked at me like that in months!” I’m pretty sure I feel him step on the gas.

Annoyed now, “I’ve thrown myself at you for the last four months, Spencer, and you’ve barely touched me.” I regret my words and tone as I watch the numbers climb up. I hush my voice, “Slow down.”

Tears are freely pouring down my cheeks, matching how the rain is now hitting the windshield. Wipers going back and forth aren’t enough to drown out Spencer’s anger.

“So it’s my fault you were looking at that fucking guy like you wanted to climb him?” He grips the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him, pinching harder than he should have. I let out an involuntary whimper, not that it ever mattered before. I’d have bruises for sure.

I blanch.

Is it that obvious? The stiffness in his jaw tells me it had been as he releases me in disgust. “Spence, it wasn’t anything, he may have been trying to flirt with me, but I wasn’t doing anything. I was just embarrassed from getting scared and dropping my cereal box.” Even I couldn’t make myself believe it’s true. But damn it, I hadn’t done anything. “Spencer, PLEASE slow down!”

His knuckles are white from gripping the wheel so hard. “You’re a real piece of work, Wren. Dragging me up here, flirting with some random the very first night we’re here, and then trying to fucking blame me for it. Christ! Well, he can fucking have you. I’m done with it. I’m done with all of it.”

Done?

Is he breaking up with me?

Shattered sobs rake through me as I realize the last two years mean nothing to him. Gone in a moment because of a look? What the fuck? “Spencer, please, I didn’t do anything! SLOW DOWN!”

He stares at me, eyes flicking back to the road less frequently than I’d like. “He was going to touch you, and you were trembling. If he’d kissed you, or shoved you to the ground… If he’d wanted to fuck you, you’d have let him.”

Spencer is right about that and shame blazes through me. I can”t deny it. I can’t look him in the face. Instead, I lower my tear-filled eyes to stare at my lap. The satisfied tone of his voice sickens me. “Bitch,” he mutters.

“SPENCER, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” I shout as we come up to a sharp curve. He looks forward, eyes wide, as he slams on the brakes. With the sickening sound of metal crunching, we hit the guard rail. We are sliding, the rail barely holding as we jerk along the curve. Deafened by the scraping sound filling the air, I can’t hear my screams even though my throat is raw.

Spencer’s arm reaches out, pinning me to my seat. The end of the guard rail draws nearer, and he doesn’t have control.

We are airborne.

Like something out of a movie, the tops of trees loom below us. We fall in slow motion. I press myself back into my seat as hard as possible, like it would put us back on the road. Lightning flashes above our heads, illuminating the ground and rushing closer to us. A rock about a quarter the size of the car is jutting out of the mountainside, waiting to catch us.

When the wheels connect to the ground again, it feels like someone sent an electric shock up my spine.

I am not sure whether it is the thunder crashing or the car, but I can’t hear my screams again. The airbag rushes at me, slamming into my face, and sending a blinding pain between my eyes. Gravity shifts, and the car jerks forward. Spencer’s arm releases me. I try to clutch at it, fearing that if I can no longer feel him, I will lose him.

I feel the side of my head connect with something hard, and then there is nothing.

No pain.

No sound.

Empty.

The sounds of scuffling and scrambling make my ears itch. A tingling in my brain as my mind fights to return to the surface of consciousness. I am swaying, moving with the car as it shifts. Are we still falling?

My fingertips are going numb. They are cold.

I am cold.

I am ice cold.

I can hear the sounds of water rushing at me.

Suddenly, my eyes flash open. I must’ve blacked out at the end. The car isn”t moving anymore, but I am freezing. My arms hang above me, and I realize I am upside down. Tilting my head, I see water covering my hands. I flex my legs, thanking the cosmos that I can feel my toes, despite how much pain I am in. A coppery taste fills my mouth as I cough, trying to take a breath. It hurts.

Something warm is dripping up my face. An odd sensation, blood flowing from my nose leaking toward my eyes and forehead. I try to wipe it from my eyes, a sharp pain in my right arm causing me to cry out. Is it broken? Dislocated?

FUCK!

“Spencer…” I groan, looking at the driver’s seat. He is gone. All I see is water pouring through his window. Where is he? “Spencer!” I call again, more desperate. Nothing, not a sound.

A pang of grief haunts me.

Had he been thrown from the car?

Is he dead?

This is my fault, all my fault.

My head is pounding, and my whole body hurts.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

I use my left hand to fumble for the button to release myself from my seat. This is going to be very painful. I fall into the shallow water, hitting the roof of the car. Searing red hot spikes tear through my shoulder and arm, and darkness clouds the edges of my vision, threatening to take me back into the world of unconsciousness. I lift my head out of the water, coughing, and sputtering.

“HELP!” I cry as loud as I can, wondering if anyone was nearby as we crashed. My voice is raw. Blood comes out when I cough, hopefully from my nosebleed and not something else. I look around. Water is coming in quickly from the window on the driver’s side, and a leak in the windshield.

My window on the passenger’s side has a crack in it. Bits of blood and hair stuck to it, but it didn’t shatter completely. Water is lapping against the glass, almost covering the window. I try to push on it, but I am weak. The door itself is so crumpled and bent it won’t open, and if I can’t break the glass, there is only one other way out.

I eye the driver’s side window and steel my resolve.

I am going to get out of here.

Water is filling the car fast, covering my legs. I feel woozy as I shift to turn my back to the driver’s side window. Pushing against the frame of the car with my feet, I inch closer to my freedom. Ducking my head to avoid the center console, I brace my feet against the roof of the car and push again, fighting the force of the water steadily pouring in. Panic fills me when I see the level has risen to my navel. One more push and my back is right up against the window.

Cold and pummeled by the lake hell-bent on joining me in the car, I take my good arm and force it into the sheet of water. I clamp hold of the window from the outside, wincing as glass cuts into my palm. I gasp in pain but don’t release my grip. Instead, I pull with all the force I can muster. The roof of the car isn’t the best foothold, but I use my legs to push regardless.

Water barrels against my hurt arm, and I scream out, “HELP ME, PLEASE!”

Pressure and force from the lake are too much for my weak body to fight against, and it pushes me back into the car.

No use.

Through the windows all around me, I can see the darkness of the lake thickening as I sink further and further below the surface.

God, I don’t want to die.

I should have just left the fucking cereal!

The windshield finally gives way from the pressure of the water, glass sprays me, and little cuts tear into my skin. Fortunately, I raise my arm in time to protect my eyes, but I can feel the sharp pin pricks on my face. It didn’t shatter completely, but the water is coming in much too fast now, already reaching my shoulders. I am sinking with the car, and the pressure is too great for me to get through.

In seconds I have almost no air left, I try to time it right and take a deep breath at the last moment. Opening my eyes in the murky water stings, but I have no choice. Now that the car is filled, and the pressure equal, the driver’s side window is accessible for my escape. I try to swim through the window with my injured arm tucked close to my side, it is so difficult. I only have three working limbs instead of four, my clothes are weighing me down, and I have no idea how far I have sunk.

Going through the windshield would’ve been easier, but I don’t want to waste time breaking apart more glass. The window will give me faster access to the surface, and time is of the essence now.

Inky blackness surrounds me between lightning strikes, the light being the only indication of which way is up.

My lungs burn for air.

I am able to get my torso through the driver’s side window. I press on the car door with my good arm and push myself out as hard as possible. Until my legs are completely out. I kick away from Spencer’s car as it sinks and try to propel myself upward.

My muscles ache from exertion with no oxygen and I feel like my chest is going to explode. I can’t tell if I am getting close to the surface of the water or not. Darkness closes in around me, and I stop kicking. I am so tired. My vision is blurry, and the pure black of nothing pulls me into it.

Until I can’t see the lightning anymore.

Until I can’t feel anymore.

Until I’m not anymore.