Page 65 of Something’s Brewing

“I’m talking.” Her voice sounded thinner this time. “The airbag knocked the wind out of me. I can’t see anything through the rain, so I’m staying in the SUV.”

“You sound calm.”

“I’m trying not to panic.”

That did nothing to reassure him.

Garrett flicked his gaze to the phone mounted on his dash. Speaker mode. Call still active. Battery icon flashing red. He swore under his breath. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he activated voice-to-text and sent Nick a message.

Need you Now. County Road 29. Madison hurt.

The message sent just as lightning split the sky. Thunder cracked so loudly it rattled his truck.

“Garrett?” Madison said softly.

“I’m here.”

“You don’t have to drive like a maniac.”

“Too late.”

Gravel spit from under his tires as he rounded another curve.

Then he saw the faint glow of hazard lights blinking weakly through the rain, down in the ditch. Smart.

His heart slammed into his ribs. “Madison, I see you.”

He braked hard, skidding sideways before wrestling the truck onto the shoulder. He didn’t even bother shutting off the engine. The door flew open and the storm swallowed him whole.

Cold rain soaked him in seconds.

“Madison!”

He slid down the muddy embankment. The SUV sat crooked at the bottom, nose resting against a tree.

For one terrifying second, he imagined it rolling.

“Madison!” he shouted, splashing through the rain toward the driver’s door.

Relief washed over her face as she saw him approaching. She reached for the door handle and pushed. It didn’t budge. Garrett yanked the door open.

“Hey,” she said, voice shaky now that he was there. “Took you long enough.”

He crouched beside her, hands already moving—checking her shoulders, her arms, her face.

“Don’t joke,” he snapped. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so. Just sore.”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She caught his wrist, forcing him to look at her. “I’m okay,” she said. “I promise.”

The rain drummed on the roof, loud and relentless.