Beyond Hope

Chapter 9

"I don't want to leave you alone."

There was no pain, no shock running through my body, threatening to shatter all my bones. There was no blood. The only thing red my eyes could see was the car, stopped in the exact place I had been just a second ago.

My skin wasn't burning from being torn apart against the roughness of the ground. Instead, there was a warm, cozy feeling all around me. I breathed as if I had been on the verge of drowning. Air turned into flames inside my lungs, and I still felt the urge to gulp on it.

I realized I was being held in someone's arms the moment a large hand resting on my stomach pulled me further against a chest, rising and falling as quickly as my own.

"Everything is ok. There is nothing to see here. We got it." Mark's breath grazed my neck, and I knew he was the one that pulled me out of that road. I was in his arms; my life in his hands.

I was barely aware of being pulled off the ground, Mark's hand moving from my waist to pull me flush against his body in a reassuring hug.

A man was talking to him. His tone was apologetic and for the few words I could catch from the conversation, he must be the driver from the red car. I buried my face in Mark's shirt. I didn't want to see the driver, even if I was the only one to blame for the almost accident. I didn't need to put a face to what had just happened.

"Do you want to go to a hospital? Maybe you should get some x-rays. I'm sure you didn't hit your head, but perhaps you should check your foot." Mark's words were whispered near my ear.

"I don't need the hospital," I answered, letting my arms drop from around his torso and taking a step back. "It just twisted a little when my heel got stuck but it doesn't hurt that much now," I said, trying to collect my hair behind my ears, in an attempt to look as composed as I could be.

Mark's eyes were frantic in the assessment he was doing on me. His concern clear on the furrow of his brows; his hands traveling from my shoulders to my elbows and up again. He must have seen what I already knew. There was no blood, no wounds. "I'm taking you home," he decided finally, with a squeeze of my hand.

I knew I wasn't far away from Meyer's, but only when I felt Mark's arms leaving me and the soothing words of Walter's familiar voice calming me down, I looked up to see the building just a few meters away. I appreciated his presence but, if Walter was there, probably other people from work could be around as well, which gave me another motive to hold back the tears.

Mark was quick to arrive behind the wheel of his car. He helped me into the passenger seat, sliding the belt around my waist.

In other circumstances I would protest, reminding him I wasn't hurt. A part of me was decided to show him I could see myself home, and I could certainly buckle a seatbelt. I wasn't useless; I wanted to say, but to be honest, I was feeling like it. I saved my protests to a time when they could mean something.

His voice was softer than usual when he asked me for my address. He was thinking I was scared, but I wasn't. Fear lasted for a second until Grace was all I could think about.

In my mind, the threatening car was not red, but black. The driver wasn't concerned or apologetic, but so drunk that when he noticed someone on the road, he had hit the gas instead of the breaks. The circumstances were different but so similar at the same time. And the ending result... My eyes snapped to Mark.

"Are you ok?" I found myself asking.

His eyes remained directed on the road ahead, other than a loud sigh and the subtle gesture of repositioning his hands on the steering wheel, I couldn't see an actual reaction, and for a moment I was sure I wasn't getting an answer as well.