A Complicated Life [COMPLETED]

Chapter Nine

Deuce's Point Of View

Where am I? Deuce wondered. He slowly opened his eyes. Rock? Gravel, it was definitely gravel. So, he was indeed on a gravel road. He groaned and tried to pop his back, but he wasn't sitting down. He was upside down. He opened his eyes all the way and turned his head to look around him. Was he still in his semi? He looked down at his watch and sighed. He was an hour late for his delivery. But, why was he upside down?

"Hey, you!" Deuce yelled as he caught sight of someone on the side of the road. He brought one hand up and waved towards the figure, doing his best to catch their attention. "Can you help me?" He called. The figure looked up at him. It was a girl. That much he knew. She ran her fingers through her hair and held her hand up to her face, blocking the sun from her eyes. He squinted his eyes in order to get a better look at the girl.

"Oh no," he whispered. It was Clawdeen. Clawdeen was actually the last person he ever wanted to see again. As of this moment, she was his only way of getting out. Maybe he could get out on his own? There was always a possibility that he could safely get out on his own. He groaned and brought his arms up to the edge of the broken window and pushed. The broken glass pushed through his palm. He screamed as he continued to push himself up. Once inside the cab again, he slid to the other end, slamming into the passenger side door. His hands pulled away from the window, the glass dragging through them up to his fingertips. The cuts in his hands were deep. He was breathing too fast, and was loosing blood too fast.

Think! He thought, looking around the semi. He shifted his position so that he was sitting on the door rather than the seat. Now, right side up, he took his shirt off. He pulled on it and ripped it into several pieces. He grunted as he wrapped a piece of the shirt around each hand. Very quickly, the blood soaked through his shirt, turning his once white shirt completely red.

Other than his hands, he was in great shape. But, why had the semi been on its side like that? And why had he been hanging out the window? He shook his head and grabbed the steering wheel and pulled himself to the driver's seat. He reached out with one hand and opened the door. He pulled himself up the rest of the way, throwing his legs outside of the cab. He grabbed the edge of the door and dropped down. He landed on what used to be a car.

Deuce looked down at the car under him and frowned. What if he had killed someone? And then he made the connection. It was Clawdeen's car.

"Clawdeen!" Deuce exclaimed, jumping down from the crushed car. He ran over to Clawdeen and crouched down next to her. "Are you ok?" He asked quietly. She looked up at him, the worry in her face turning to anger.

"You almost killed me and you're perfectly fine!" She yelled. Deuce wanted to tell her that she wasn't hurt, but then he looked her over. Her shirt was soaked in blood. Her right hand was impaled with a rather large piece of metal. She had scratches up and down her arms and all over her face. Her legs looked crushed, and her toes, which he could see through her high heels, were blue.

"Can you feel your feet? What about your legs?" He asked. She shook her head, closing her eyes as a tear ran down her cheek. "All right. I'm gonna pick you up," Deuce said.

"No you're not!" She exclaimed, hitting his hand away from her. "You're not touching me. Does your phone work?" She asked. Deuce reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He touched the power button and watched the screen light up. He nodded and handed her his phone when she held out her left hand, which also had a gash in it.

Deuce felt horrible. He really had almost killed Clawdeen. And now that he thought about it, he remembered exactly what had happened. He had run a red light while texting Cleo to make sure she was all right. Clawdeen almost died and it was his fault.