Buried (Bailey Roberts Trilogy #1) Editing

24: Chasing Cars [3rd Draft]

I'm stuck. It was the first thought that ran through Bailey's head as she wiped away the wet, tickling trickle of liquid slipping down the side of her forehead, and she cringed when a sharp pain shot through her other arm at the movement. She exhaled with a hiss between clenched teeth and stopped moving.

"Jesus, man, I don't know!" Her ears perked at the loud, frantic male voice from above her, but if she moved towards that sound she knew the dizzying nausea and pain she was currently feeling would amplify.

"No! I told you, she's stuck," Grayson said, his voice rumbling with an irritated growl. "You're not listening-"

"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Roberts. She's on her way." Kate's voice interrupted Grayson's angry response. "How I don't know. I think she mentioned stopping by Sheriff Lambert's vacation cabin."

Kate. Kate was here too.

"I-I can't tell, she's not awake, she's—" Grayson said, stumbling over his words.

Bailey vaguely heard someone shift and something that sounded like glass crunching against glass. "She's conscious!" Damien called.

Her eyes widened at the startling shout. He was so close, almost directly by her head. The fear in his voice made her throat tighten and her eyes burned from unshed tears. She let out a small whimper as she tried turning to her side, ignoring the pain, needing to get closer to him. It was only when her mouth started watering, warning her to stop or she'd throw up, that she actually gave up.

Still flat on her back, all she could do was turn her head painfully towards him, and just behind the spider cracked window on the drivers' side were the second pair of the greenest eyes surrounded by thick long lashes she'd ever seen. Gwen's eyes were greener, but it was what reminded Bailey that the two were siblings.

"Damien?" Her voice cracked as she called to him.

She couldn't see his face at first, but almost as soon as she whispered his name he'd dropped into view. That panicked fear in his voice, didn't show on his face, and he cocked his head to the side, smiling at her with those kind, beautiful eyes of his.

"Bailey." It was such a relieved response that she almost did cry.

Now, if only he could get her out of here.

"The window," Bailey said, frowning as she struggled to get her left arm loose from the suddenly daunting seatbelt she hadn't even been wearing. She touched the still connected yet split glass, running her fingers along the slashes, only to cringe, and yank her hand back as the window cut her fingers.

She stared intently as the blood gushed to the surface, and with her thumb she spread it across the tips of her index and middle finger, checking to see if it was real. She lifted her gaze, watching Damien as he focused on her through the window where, right in the middle, a chunk of glass had fallen out, leaving a hole large enough to fit a small hand through.

Her breath caught as she dropped her gaze back to that tiny opening. If she could reach through... she reached forward automatically, not bothering to think of the stinging sharp pains that were to come, but Damien's voice made her pause.

"Don't cut yourself again," he said, his voice surprisingly calm as his rough hands clutched at her fingers, pushing her back before she could get her fist through.

He was lying on the ground, his belly flush with the concrete.

It was a startling thought. This was Damien, he disliked being dirty and refused to go camping unless he had an air mattress, yet there he was in his school uniform, lying on glass. Why was he doing this? He was going to hurt himself.