Mending Ryan Falls ✓

34 | in which she stops him

Be gentle.
Everyone hurts.

.\.|./.

Crystal Monroe

| in which she stops him |

The knocking on the window startles us, awakening me from sleep.

I don't know when I fell asleep with Ryan's arms around me. He jerks awake, straightening up with sleepy eyes and wiping a trail of saliva. I have no time to ponder on how adorable that is, glancing out of the windshield to see who it is. With the dome-light illuminating the inside of the car, I'm sure whoever is outside can see us clearly. As for them, they're shadowed in the darkness.

Them, because I can tell there is more than one person.

The knocking is on my window but I can see Ryan looking out of his own window as if he can sense movement on that side too. Glancing at the door to make sure it's locked, I peek outside.

"Who is it?" Ryan raises his voice to ask.

"Open up," is the answer.

Fishing out his phone from his pocket, Ryan flashes the light towards my door. The man who stands there isn't wearing a uniform or holding a badge, and I can tell Ryan doesn't trust him.

"Open," the man says again, knocking on my window. "Now or else."

His voice sends shivers down my spine and I automatically reach out towards the door-handle.

Ryan grabs my arm, pulling me back towards me to give me an admonishing look.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his eyes wide and panicked.

"I ... I ..." I stammer, not knowing what to say. I blink multiple times as the knocking continues, and I hear the person outside attempting to unlock the car door.

"Crystal?" Ryan brings my attention back to himself. "Do you trust me?"

His question catches me off guard, but his beautiful grey eyes soothe me in a way no words can. I nod without a beat, and Ryan inhales a deep breath through his nose.

"That's all I need," he whispers, taking my hand before turning the key in the ignition.

Wide-eyed and deafened by my heart beating wildly in my chest, I stare straight out of the windshield, seeing a man standing in front of our hood. His face is in the darkness, but his legs illuminated by our headlights.

The knocking is louder, echoing in the empty car that whirs suddenly to life. Holding my hand firmly in his own, Ryan hits the gas, sending the car plunging forward.

My heart jumps up my throat when the car hits the man who was standing in front of it, sending him scurrying to the side. Even as screams and shouts echo behind us, Ryan neither stops nor glances back, driving straight ahead and away from danger.

Driving in the dark night on the deserted Alaskan highway, I keep my eyes peeled and staring ahead, aware of Ryan's sweaty hand holding mine as firm as possible. Neither of us speaks for a long time, not even when the morning light begins to appear across the horizon, causing our sleep-deprived brains to hurt and our eyes to sting.

We stop on the side of the road, and Ryan closes his eyes, running his free hand down his face.

"I'm sorry," I say, taking advantage of the moment.

"What?"

I've been wanting to apologize all night, wondering why I almost-did what I almost-did. I don't know what made me reach out to open the door, even when I knew Ryan was being cautious. Perhaps it was my automatic reflex to obey all commands directed my way. Or perhaps it was fear numbing my senses and driving me half-mad. I have to say, the first option seems more likely.