An Accident
1119 Words
The ride was silent. My new husband said nothing to me, and I didn’t speak to him either. My mind was consumed with one thought—how to escape this fate.
The sound of the engine was the only the sound in the dark night. I stared out at the window.
The trees passed by in a blur, making everything look more creepy.
Should I try to get on his good side? Or should I fight?
Would fighting even get me anywhere? It would probably just make him angrier.
Then, he might decide he’s fed up with me and…
I turned to the window, catching my reflection in the glass. My hair was still in place, not a single strand out of order.
I looked perfect—except for the fear in my eyes.
It stared back at me, haunting and mocking me. My hands, resting on my lap, were clasped so tightly together that my knuckles had turned white.
"You should sleep if you're tired. New York is still a long way off," he said. I pulled my gaze away from the window and glanced at him.
His eyes stayed on the road. He did not even spare me a glance. I studied his sharp jawline, the way his nose was perfectly pointed, the way his lips were pressed into a thin line.
Everything about him exuded danger and raw masculinity. He was the kind of man people whispered about—the kind of man no one dared to cross.
I looked away.
"I'm not sleepy," I said quietly. I felt his gaze flicker toward me, the corner of his lips curving slightly.
"What? Afraid I might pounce on you while you're asleep?" His voice was low, teasing—but beneath it, there was something else.
I didn’t answer. He was right. That was exactly what I was thinking.
You could never tell with a man known as a beast.
He chuckled—a dark, low sound that filled the car. It sent a chill through me.
"Can you stop the car?" I asked suddenly.
He glanced at me, our eyes meeting for a brief second before I quickly looked away.
Now that we were alone, I couldn’t bring myself to look him directly in the eyes.
"Why?" he asked, his tone calm but laced with something that made my stomach tighten.
I stared down at my hands, my fingers twisting together as I thought over the idea that had come to me at the last second. I could hear my heartbeat.
"Princess," he called and my eyes snapped to him. His voice had a way of pulling my gaze to him, as if he had some invisible hold over me.
I hated it.
I had no idea if he was using my title or if it was just… a nickname.
His blue eyes roamed my face, searching for something I couldn’t name, before returning to the road. They were intense, almost hypnotic, like a predator sizing up its prey.
"When I ask a question, you answer. Hm?" His voice was smooth, dangerous. I nodded quickly, and his brow lifted slightly.
"Yes," I corrected myself immediately, my voice small. I looked away. There was no point in fighting. Running wasn’t possible if he refused to stop the car.
"Why?" he repeated after a few moments.
I swallowed hard, wringing my fingers together.
Mireille had warned me not to show fear. I couldn’t give him something to use against me.
"I need to pee," I said, forcing my voice to sound calm. His eyes swept over me, slow and assessing, before a muscle in his jaw twitched.
He didn’t respond. He didn’t stop the car either.
My shoulders sagged. So much for hoping he had even a shred of human sympathy.
The silence stretched on.
Then, without warning, he slammed on the brakes. The sudden stop sent me lurching forward.
I would have hit my head against the glass, but his hand shot out, stopping me before I could.
It lingered for a second longer than necessary before he pulled away.
Slowly, I turned to him. His eyes were already on me.
A shiver crept up my spine. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. And it didn’t help that we were alone, in the middle of nowhere.
I knew desire when I saw it. I’d seen it enough times in my father’s men. But in Lucien’s eyes, it was different.
Darker. Hungrier.
His hand dropped from my forehead. He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
His touch was surprisingly gentle.
"Go," he said. "You have one minute. If you’re not back by then…" His lips curled into a slow, sadistic smile. "You won’t want me to come get you myself, would you?"
I swallowed but lifted my chin, refusing to let him see my fear.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car.
The night was quiet. The only source of light came from the car’s headlights.
I glanced around, searching for a place with more cover. I didn’t want him to see me.
Straightening my shoulders, I walked into the darkness, farther and farther until I was sure he couldn’t see me.
Then, I ran.
I ran into the dark forest—or whatever it was.
I wouldn’t go back to my father. If I survived this, I would disappear. Another city. Another life.
With the little money I had, I could take care of myself for a while.
Anything was better than living with a man known as a beast. A man whose kiss was possessive, whose touch was unexpectedly gentle.
A man who would be my undoing.
So, I ran. I didn’t know for how long, but I knew he was already searching for me. It had been more than a minute. More than three.
Branches scraped against my skin as I pushed forward. My breath came in harsh gasps, my legs burning from the effort. But I couldn’t stop.
I eventually stopped by a tree, bending over, trying to catch my breath. My chest heaved as I looked around, straining to see if he was near.
I heard the snap of a branch.
I took off again, constantly glancing behind me, trying to see how close he was.
I didn’t realize I had run onto a street. I didn’t see the car in time.
One moment, I was running.
The next, the car hit me, and I was thrown across the pavement.
Pain exploded through my body. My vision blurred.
A door open and slammed close. Footsteps approached.
I tried to lift my head, to see who it was, but darkness swallowed me whole.
- Writer
