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Thirty-five || Sport Cars Were Made For Crashing

ALRIGHT ONE MORE YOU GOTTA READ

First, how are you? Good, I hope.

Okay, so I'm changing things up. You know how I usually name chapters in povs other than Tide by the character's name? And I use the spirit of Rick Riordan to name Tide's chapters? Well, you see, I really like chapter titles. It gives me the opportunity to have a funny title while still having a cool, one word title for the entire book. You feel? So I'm not going to name chapters after characters anymore (and I might change some titles I've previously done, because come on, Jensen chapters have such good material for titles).

So that's that. Also, this chapter switches in pov a lot, but it's separated by those little squiggly things that you all love to adopt and name and send to college so much, so it shouldn't be that confusing.

Dedication goes to the stunning Kammiies. They might not have read this far but I was reading their beautifully sarcastic comments and they have been my source of entertainment for the past few days. Even their profile pic is gold.

So yeah. Thank you for your support, especially when my chapters are short and kind of crappy, and thank you so much for understanding that. You're all amazing human beings, so keep on doing that.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, there's lots of action (unrealistic movie car chase action, yes, but it's obviously the best kind am I right?) (besides, I was watching Iron Man 3 on FX and got super excited off how much I adore Tony Stark so here's your inspired chapter)

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Owen returned to reality in a dumpster.

He felt like crap.

His chest ached, every breath in like a knife twisting deeper into the muscles by his heart.

"Owen?"

The distant voice belonged to Audrey, but instead Owen heard the kid, screaming and crying as he was dragged away.

He should've gotten up.

Owen tried moving. He regretted the decision immediately.

Choking in a breath, Owen mustered the strength and kicked up. The top of the dumpster flipped open, letting the harsh daylight blind him. The sun was straight ahead, middle of the sky, burning on his eyelids as he squinted them closed.

Owen gasped out a swear, blinking, focused on breathing as his vision was blurred on the edges by white. His head felt light, limbs asleep. He had lost a lot of blood.

It took him five minutes to recover from pushing open the lid, and then he had to pause for another ten as he dragged himself halfway over the edge of the dumpster. With a final grunt of exertion, he pushed himself out, tumbling over the side and smashing to the pavement on his back.

Owen clenched his teeth and tried to keep his moan of pain quiet, curling up on the ground. He wanted to die.

No, he had to get the kid. Then he could die.

"Owen!"

Through the white haze of his mind Owen heard Audrey and footsteps pounded up to him. He tried to sit up as Audrey crouched next to him.

"Why didn't you call for me?" she demanded. "I could've helped you out!"

Owen gave up and let his head fall back on the pavement, legs stretching out stiffly. "I...did it...myself," he said, words interspersed with heavy breaths. His vision was going completely white. Perhaps this is what people meant when they said they saw the light.