Rain.
I press the phone so hard against my ear that it bites into my skin, but all I hear is his heavy breathing and squeal of tires.
Then, a sickening sound that will haunt my nightmares, the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, and a heavy, final thud.
“Oh my God. COLT!”
My heart drops to the floor.
“Colt?… COLT! ANSWER ME!”
The line goes dead.
The silence that follows is deafening. It swallows the air in the bathroom and leaves me gasping, and clutching my chest where my heart is hammering against my ribs like a trapped, dying bird.
I stare at the darkened screen of my phone, my vision blurring and dial his number. My mind refuses to process the finality of that sound. It fills me with cold dread to think that something has happened to Colt. It rings and rings and stops.
