Chapter Text
The metallic stench of blood mixed with spilled liquor filled the air. Somewhere beneath the fog of pain and smoke, Jack stirred.
His arm throbbed. His head felt like it had been slammed between cymbals. He blinked, vision swimming, and turned just enough to see the source of the coppery scent.
Danny.
Slumped against the front seat, unmoving. Blood streaked down one side of his face, dripping into his hairline, matting dark curls to his skin. His eyes were shut. Too still.
Panic rushed in, thick and suffocating.
Jack clawed at his seatbelt, the latch clicking open with a shudder. He turned his head, searching—Henley was beside him, motionless, but alive. Where was Merritt? Oh. Right. He had been in the front.
Jack opened his mouth to call out, but no sound came. His throat burned, and everything was muffled—like someone had stuffed cotton into his ears. Disoriented, he reached for Henley as her eyelids fluttered open.
She tried to speak. Jack couldn’t hear the words, but he saw the fear in her eyes.
He didn’t answer. He just pointed to Danny.
Her gaze followed—and then froze.
Shock overtook her face. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She scrambled out of the wrecked car just as Jack’s door swung open.
Merritt. Eyes wide, voice sharp, though Jack could barely register what he was saying. The older man reached in and grabbed Jack’s arm, dragging him from the wreckage without waiting for protest.
Henley was already on her hands and knees, crawling toward the front. Jack collapsed onto the cold ground, his legs unwilling to hold him. The world spun. A shrill ringing pulsed through his head.
Merritt and Henley were at Danny’s side now, fighting with the mangled front door. Their mouths moved, yelling, but it all blurred into that high-pitched buzz.
Jack pushed himself to his feet, swaying. He stumbled after them.
“Danny! Wake up!” Henley cried, voice cracking. “The car is going to—”
She didn’t finish.
Her voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t exasperated. This wasn’t the usual friction. There was panic there—real and raw.
Merritt threw himself at the door.
Once.
Twice.
Crack.
It gave way.
Henley wasted no time. She reached in, pulling Danny’s limp body from the front seat with Merritt’s help. His arms hung uselessly. His head lolled.
Jack didn’t understand. Not all cars exploded after a crash, right?
Right?
They hauled Danny away from the wreckage, to the far side of the road. Jack knelt beside him, hands shaking.
He looked at Danny’s face again—bruised, broken, bloodied.
Too still.
Jack couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Danny looked dead.