Letters to Ashburn

“In L.A., the sun began to slip over the mountains, leaving a halo of light along the golden shadows. Reese was still in shock as the SUV erratically weaved in an out of traffic. She tried to scream but found that her throat was too dry after a night of drinking sodas. She frantically waved and hit her window, hoping that a passing driver might notice and call 911. That’s when she thought about Austin and Riley. She thought of Rooney, the niece that she barely knew but loved more than anything. She thought of Hattie, her dear friend who she hadn’t seen in nearly a year. But most of all, she thought about Colton, the only guy that she had truly loved. What if she never saw him again? Was this the end? Remembering the night along the Columbia Basin, and the horrifying events that followed, her eyes shuttered, knowing that this was just the same. Luck had been on her side that night, however. Fear slinked along her spine, paralyzing her entire body. She was going to die in a horrific car accident or at the hands of her husband. Though, tomorrow, everyone will be filtering through the news as if nothing had happened. No one will care. She’s just another famous face who had fallen like so many before her. Hollywood’s loss will be tragic until an hour later when another shocking headline follows.

Everything gradually vanished as memories filed through her mind. When she couldn’t bear to look outside anymore, she curled into a tight ball and shuddered as Lochlan punched the dashboard. She had no idea where they were going or why, but he wouldn’t listen to her terrified pleas, so she cried. A loud crash followed and her body fell forward just to be jerked back by the seatbelt. Glass shattered, but the SUV hadn’t slowed. Glancing up, she realized they were still speeding down the freeway as the paparazzi followed.

A moment later, sirens blared, startling Reese. Cars zipped to the side and bystanders curiously watched the early morning commotion. Hearing the helicopters above, Reese frantically peered out the window, realizing that the local news, paparazzi and the L.A.P.D. were all following them, and then, to her horror, she noticed that Lochlan was driving on the wrong side of the freeway and still going 120mph. Cars seemed to disappear, eventually emptying the lanes as barricades and spikes were placed in the distance.

“Lochlan, pull over. Cops are everywhere!” she begged. “You have to stop. You’re going to kill us! Please!”

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see through the tears that eclipsed her eyes. Lochlan slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel, letting the SUV skid across two lanes of pavement. It rolled once, twice, possibly even more as her body locked against the seat. Her hand punched through the front. The SUV rammed into a cement barrier as she fell forward, banging her head on the dashboard. The windshield shattered, leaving chards all over. Blood trickled down her arm and face.”  Read More

Letters to Ashburn (The Valley, #4)


Like it? Share it!

Facebook
Twitter
PINTEREST