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Sam had tried. She'd done everything she could think to do to help Garrison and Aiden, and it wasn't enough.
Why was she surprised?
The wheels rumbled along the gravelly road, and the sound scraped against her fear. Foolish woman. Foolish, useless woman.
She shook her head clear of the selfish thoughts. This was about Aiden. Please, let him be okay. If he was okay, then maybe Garrison would forgive her for meddling. If he was okay, then maybe things could go back to the way they had been. But she knew no matter what, there was no going back.
No. Focus on Aiden. Pray for Aiden. She had to stop thinking about herself. No wonder nobody loved her.
She forced her focus to Aiden and Garrison, forced herself to pray.
Finally, they reached the site of the accident. Two police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance were parked along the road, lights flashing. All those emergency vehicles—was it that bad? In the darkness, she saw men walking around in their dark uniforms, talking to each other. Nobody running. No signs of panic. But where was Aiden?
She stopped behind one of the cruisers. Garrison was out of the car and jogging toward the cluster of men before she'd shifted into park.
Maybe she should just leave. One of them would give Garrison a ride back to the cabin. Nobody needed her there.
She glanced across the street and saw Garrison's car, smashed and mangled against an unyielding tree. Her stomach roiled at the sight.
She had to know if Aiden was all right. She stepped out and followed Garrison around the ambulance.
She stopped when she saw Aiden sitting on a gurney, head in his hands. His father was seated beside him, trying to hug him, though the boy seemed to want nothing to do with it. But he was alive. Sitting up. Seemed all right.
Thank God.
She didn't get closer. She stood beside the ambulance and prayed for him, for them.
Garrison looked up and met her eyes.
She turned and headed for her SUV. She wasn't needed here.
The wind rustled the leaves, and she peered into the deep woods. They called to her.
No. She wouldn't think about that. Tonight wasn't about her. She'd already been selfish enough, and nobody had time to manage her anxiety. She could do this. Hadn't she gone to Dover? If she could drive to Dover, she could get home from here. She was only a few minutes from town.
The trees along the side of the road snickered in the breeze.
The spinning red and blue lights flickered against the trunks and played havoc with her vision.
She heard footsteps behind her and froze. Planted her feet. Braced herself. As if she could stop it from happening again.
Someone grabbed her arm.
She wheeled around and yanked away.
Garrison let her go and lifted both hands in surrender. "I didn't mean to scare you."
She took a deep breath and tried to force her heartbeat back to a normal rhythm.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I called out. Didn't you hear me?"
She hadn't. Hadn't heard anything but the echoes of the forest. She couldn't speak.
"Are you all right?"
A deep breath. "I'm fine." She swallowed a bubble of fear and forced herself to sound normal. "Is Aiden okay? I didn't see him up close, but from where I was standing... Is he hurt badly?"
"Just shaken up. The airbag deployed. He's probably good and bruised. He'll be sore tomorrow. I think he's too high right now to feel much of anything."
"Oh. Sorry."
He rubbed his hand over his short hair. "It's not your fault, Sam. None of this is your fault. I'm sorry I was such a jerk."
"It's fine."
"No, it's not."
But she didn't belong with Garrison and Aiden. Didn't belong anywhere, except maybe with the trees that drew her in, their limbs like skeletal arms longing to hold her again, their twigs like witches' fingers beckoning her toward them. She wanted to go, to let the darkness and shadows embrace her, to hide her in their crooks until nothingness descended.
The wind whispered its lies, and she leaned into the sound like a lullaby.
She stepped toward the edge of the forest, toward darkness and death and oblivion. Toward freedom.
A hand on her arm. Not twigs and leaves, but human fingers.
"What's wrong?" Garrison asked.
She stared into the woods that still called to her, longing to give in to the temptation, to disappear into forest and forgetfulness.
She shuddered and shook out of Garrison's grip. "I have to go." She slid inside her SUV and slammed the door.
No. She'd fought it for so long. But now, the world was closing in on her. Darkness, silence, the call of death.
The car door opened. She gasped, frozen in fear. She'd almost done it. Almost gone willingly into the abyss.
Not a heart attack. Not a heart attack.
Fear of nothing. She was crazy.
Something touched her, and she jumped.
"Hey." Garrison's voice, tender beside her. "Hey, look at me."
She couldn't open her eyes, couldn't think.
Her heart would explode any minute. The pain was unbearable. Her fingers cramped. She couldn't move them. Couldn't get enough air.
Garrison crouched beside her. His voice sounded as if it were coming from the far end of a long tunnel.
"You need to slow down your breathing, Sam. Can you look at me, please?"
She forced her eyes open, saw him beside her.
"There you go. Good girl."
He breathed slowly, steadily. She tried to mimic it.
"That's it."
"My heart." It felt like it might explode.
He kept breathing steadily. "You have a beautiful, healthy heart, Samantha." Another slow deep breath. She focused on matching it. "That's it."
She had no idea how much time passed before she felt better. Minutes. Hours. But the pain subsided. Oxygen filled her lungs. Her heartbeat slowed. She felt almost normal. As if.
"You all right?" Garrison asked.
She nodded, looked at her knees.
"Wow, you weren't kidding about those anxiety attacks." She glanced at his face. His warm brown eyes crinkled at the corners. "I like the way you throw yourself into whatever you're doing. Shows great dedication."
He was joking. Probably a good way to deal with a crazy person.
"And heck," he said, "if you have to have a medical emergency, where better than here? Paramedics everywhere."
She looked down, wanted to melt into the seat. How could he still be there, still be kind, after everything?
"You take my car," she said. "I'll get one of these guys to drive me home."
He closed his mouth, tilted his head to the side. "You're not going to forgive me?"
"Nothing to forgive. You need to take care of Aiden."
His voice hardened. "He's fine."
"So am I. I'll get a ride home. I don't think I can drive."
"But I can—"
"You need to take care of your son. I'm fine." She met his eyes, motioned with her hands for him to get out of her way, and he stepped back.
She walked toward Eric. "Can somebody drive me home?"
Eric's eyes flicked to Garrison. He said nothing.
"Sure," Eric said. "I'll get Donny to drive you." He pointed to a cruiser. "That's his. Climb in the front and don't play with the buttons."
She attempted a smile but couldn't pull it off. She walked toward the cruiser.
Garrison was still beside her.
"Your son needs you."
"What about you?"
"I'm fine. I'll be fine at home. It's just..." She glanced at the forest, shook her head. "I'll be fine." But she didn't get in the cruiser. Couldn't sit in there by herself. "Go."
Garrison stood with her until Donny ran up. He introduced himself to Garrison and said, "I understand the plan is to get him into rehab."
"How did you know that?"
"He told me."
Garrison looked surprised. "Oh. Yeah, that's the plan. If we survive until then."
"You will. It's a good idea." Donny looked at her. "Ready, Sam?"
Garrison turned to her. "Get some rest. I'll drop your car off tonight, if I can get one of these guys to drive me home. Okay if I leave the keys on the floorboard?"
"It's fine."
"Okay. I'll call you tomorrow."
"You don't have to."
He started to say something, then stopped and kissed her on the cheek. "Tomorrow."