Page 7 of Forever Found

Ever since that day, Lyndsey hadn’t cared for the scent of the flower. She had stood there, rooted in place, waiting for the world to change. And it had. The moment her dad had told her that her mother had gone to Heaven.

“How could Mom leave me like that?”she’d cried.

Looking back, her saving grace had been that she and Justin were going through the same thing. They’d hugged each other and cried and talked and shared memories. They’d kept in touch because they shared a bond.

A tightness formed in her chest because this was the first time she’d seen him in years.

The oven timer beeped. Justin pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt up, revealing his muscular forearms.Geez, he had changed. He removed the pizza, then cut it into slices. Assessing, she watched him. He was the same, yet different. Gone was any semblance of youth. In its place was a tall, strong, handsome man. There was a bit of an edge to him now, too. The town of Terror seemed to agree with him.

As he dropped a slice onto her plate, their eyes met. She blinked at his expression, noting his face was blanketed with worry. Was it because of her encounter with David Snyder?

Lyndsey hoped not. She set her camera beside her on the table as she ate. Her eyes lingered on the camera port where the memory card resided. She was looking forward to some quiet time this evening so she could look over the shots.

But then he cleared his throat and smiled, his gaze softening again. “Finish up,” he said. “We’re going out.”

“Where?”

“The Winter Solstice Celebration and bonfire is tonight. Everyone in town will be there.”

Everyone?she wondered as David’s face flashed in her mind.

A little bit later, David had his coat on and was in the truck, ready to head to town. As he pulled out of the drive, his thoughts spun to that beautiful photographer from earlier. He’d liked the way she’d tipped her head and smiled, and the depths of her chocolate-brown eyes. She’d mentioned she was staying with Justin for a few weeks, and David found himself hoping he’d run into her again. He almost turned the truck around to take a drive down Norwood just to take a look-see.

He glanced in his rearview mirror as he backed out of the drive, thinking. Justin was one of the few human residents who made Terror their home. He even sat on the Paranormal Council, representing the human population. The thing about humans in Terror was they usually had some kind of supernatural calling and ancestry they didn’t know about. It was why they were drawn here. If Justin had a hidden calling, Lyndsey most likely did, too. And even though he’d been aggravated by her taking pictures, he’d experienced a strong visceral connection to her at the same time. As if their paths were meant to cross again—as if her soul spoke to his.

He shook his head. Unexpectedly, his truck began to skid.Damn ice.He tried to steer into it to gain traction, but the patch of ice must have been a big one. The truck kept sliding. He careened off the road. The vehicle bumped over a pile of packed snow, going airborne. His head smacked into the ceiling—he never wore a seat belt. What was the point? He was immortal.

The truck landed nose-first into a snowbank. As his body rocked back and forth, his vehicle settling, he rethought the seat-belt strategy. Though he couldn’t die again, it didn’t mean he couldn’t feel every pounding pain. Groaning, he stretched, cracking his neck.

For a long moment, he sat still, gripping the steering wheel, allowing the snow and ground to calm around him. Two thoughts raced through his head—one, he shouldn’t have been thinking about Lyndsey, and two, he wasn’t going to be able to get his truck out by himself.

He glanced around for his cell phone, spotting it on the corner of the passenger side floor. Trying to get his large body over the console to reach it was nearly impossible. By some miracle, he stretched far enough for his fingers to latch on to the phone.

With an exhale of air, he rested with his feet on the driver’s side. Who should he call? He’d start with Diego. After he selected the number, he pushed the button to place the call.

“Hey, man. I won’t make it to see the bike,” he said when Diego answered. “I hit some ice, and my truck is in a snowbank.”

“S’all good,” Diego said. “You hurt?”

“Eh, I’m fine. Just a few bumps.”

“All right, good.” Diego’s voice shifted, any trace of concern now gone. “I can come to pull you out.”

“That would be great. You may need heavy equipment. I’m nose-first in the bank. The snow covered the front end so heavily I can’t get out.”

“Got it. Give me your location, and I’ll be there in a few.”

David gave him directions, ended the call, then tipped his head back, resting it against the passenger’s side window. The sky was blue and clear. No one would ever know by looking up that the weather was a frigid twelve degrees outside. He grabbed his coffee and took a sip, his mouth tugging up. It was still hot. He tried to ration the drink, savoring its warmth for as long as he could. The temperature must have dropped ten degrees inside the cab of the truck now the heat was off.

He swiveled, navigating his legs to the passenger side. The snow appeared shallower on this side. He tried to open the truck door, but it hung up on the snow. Geez, he was in deep. Again and again, he shoved, throwing his shoulder into it.

When he heard the rumble of a tow-truck engine, he glanced over his shoulder. Diego had arrived. His friend hopped out of the vehicle, then tromped through the snow. Val Solberg, the sheriff and a fellow resident of Thurston Mansion, was a few steps behind him. They both held a shovel, which they used to dig at the snow to create an opening, freeing up outside the truck door so it would open. “I see you brought help,” David said to Diego. The angel slid past the open truck door, then pushed it closed behind him.

“I was at the shop when you called,” Val explained.

“Good timing, then,” David said.

Together, the three assessed the situation and how they would free the truck. “You’re stuck pretty deep,” Diego said, shaking his head.