I move away from him and smash myself against the door. “I’m sorry.” My voice sounds small and weak. My heart is pounding so hard I feel like I am going to pass out.
He rests his head against the steering wheel and takes several deep breaths. “I’m sorry for yelling at ya.” He finally says, his voice level and calm, but I can see it’s a struggle for him. “Are you okay?” He’s looking at me through his sunglasses, and I can see my reflection in them.
I nod, afraid to talk. I can’t stand to hear the fear in my own voice. He reaches into the back seat and pets his dog. “You okay, Niko?” The dog whimpers and licks his hand. “He’s good,” he says, caressing the dog’s head.
He tries to restart the truck, but it’s completely dead. I can’t believe this, honestly, I just can’t.
“Wh-what are we going to do?” I ask him.
“Well, we’re out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we’re stuck here.”
Fear rises up in me like a tidal wave. “What? What do you mean? We have to get out of here. We could freeze or starve, you said so yourself and—”
“Shh!” he yells making me jump. “Just calm the fuck down, okay? Obviously, both of the cars are fucked. We are still about a mile, maybe more, from my place, and that’s way too far to walk in this storm, especially with you wearing those fuck-me pumps.”
“Can you give it a rest about my shoes, please?”
“Whatever. The storm will probably stop tonight or sometime tomorrow, so we’re gonna have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we’ll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we’re in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to my cabin, so I think I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then.”
Keep us going? What the hell does that mean?
“...I have a big blanket in the back seat so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It’s really heavy and thick.”
I start to shake. I don’t know if it’s because I’m cold or scared out of my mind or maybe both. I want to get out of this truck and away from this guy and his dog right now. I beg myself not to panic, even though I know it’s inevitable. I’ve had panic attacks since I was a little girl, brought on by all sorts of things. I’m certain being stuck in a truck in the middle of the woods is definitely a perfect recipe to bring one on.
He reaches across the seat and touches my leg. “Hey, we’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry.” I cringe away from his touch and cross my arms in front of me, hugging myself.
I nod, but I refuse to talk, and he continues. “Okay, so I think we should both sit in the back seat, there’s a lot of room back there and we can put the blanket over us, I think it will help keep us warmer.”
“What about the dog?” No way in hell am I going to sit close to that animal. I wish my cat were with me. Halo is warm and sweet and would cuddle up on my lap and purr me into a comforting lull.
“...have to sit up front. He’s got a ton of fur and he’s made for the cold so he’ll be fine.”
The last thing I want to do is sit in the backseat under a blanket with this long-haired, guy-linered, sunglassed, face-pierced, cowboy hat wearing freak. What strange hell have I fallen into?
“Okay, so you climb in back and then I’ll call Niko up here, and then I’ll move back with you, all right? I know he freaks you out, but he’s not gonna hurt ya.”
I swear under my breath and climb over the seat and into the back. I arrange myself as far into a corner as I can while he maneuvers the dog into the front and then climbs into the back himself. He holds up a huge thick fleece blanket, shakes it out, and then lays it over our laps.