Ms. Lucky

My jaw hit the floor, and new questions swirled into my mind.

“Wait. A hit-and-run?” I asked. “If that’s the case, why was the detective so secretive and rude to me? Why wouldn’t he just tell me I was the victim? He made me believe I’d done something horrible!”

Curtis shrugged, and Charlie rubbed his beard.

“Being secretive is pretty normal,” Charlie said. “He probably doesn’t want to give anything away that could affect his investigation.”

I leaned back on the sofa and exhaled deeply, feeling some tension leave my body. I had relief, finally. That guilt I’d been carrying was eating away at my soul—I was maybe one day away from a mental breakdown.

But just as I began to feel absolved of my sins, I sprang to my feet with an idea. “We have to go to the scene of the accident! I have to see where I crashed!”

Curtis nodded, scooted forward in his chair, and gathered our glasses with the pitcher of sweet tea. Standing, he said, “Let me put this in the kitchen, and I’ll take y’all there.”

Charlie patted my shoulder. “Good idea, Savannah. We’ll follow Curtis in my truck. But, if I may ask, how are you?” He motioned with his chin toward my forehead. “Your injuries, I mean. Should you be doing all this running around?”

I fought the urge to narrow my eyes at him but did tell him exactly what was on my mind. “I get that you don’t know me, and I’m grateful for your help, but please don’t treat me like a child. I get it enough from Shelly, and I don’t need it from you too. Okay?”

Instead of faltering as I expected it to, Charlie’s grin actually grew wider. “Copy that.” He squeezed my arm and then released his hand. “But, I am a certified EMT, so I ~will~ ~be~ prioritizing your health—that trumps all. Do you agree?”

Offering him my hand, I said, “Deal.”

He chuckled and shook with me. His giant hand swallowed mine, rough yet gentle.

Our eyes met, and for a split second, I imagined how it’d feel to have his strong hands roaming over my body, grabbing, squeezing, and caressing. When my cheeks began to burn, I ripped my hand away.

Fortunately, that was right when Curtis returned and said, “All done. Let’s go,” saving me from death by embarrassment.

With my fair skin, there was no way Charlie hadn’t seen that blush.

***

It didn’t take long for us to arrive.

The first thing that stuck out was the location. I was familiar with the area, but it wasn’t a road I traveled often. And that I was here late at night—with alcohol in my system—was extremely odd.

We followed Curtis as he pointed out the evidence. “These skid marks here show where you were when you got hit. The vehicle hit you hard. You must’ve slammed on the brakes, which caused these marks that came all the way to here.”

Curtis acted out the wreck, pretending to drive along the road, stomping on the brake, and swerving the steering wheel until he reached the grass. He even mimed the whiplash he suspected I’d endured—which I hadn’t.

He continued, “Your car barreled down the ditch here. You must’ve had your foot on the brake the entire time—see the grass?” He gestured toward the ground. “But there was too much momentum from the hit. Plus, this little hill gave you more speed.”

Curtis got back in his pretend car and followed the muddy tracks to the bruised tree. “Come see this!” he shouted, his tone brimming with excitement. “Come get a better look!”

As I started down the embankment, my legs began to shake. Uneasiness crept in, but since I didn’t know what was causing it, I ignored it. Plus, I’d become so used to being in a constant state of discomfort that I couldn’t tell if an emotion carried weight or not.

Small pieces of my car peppered the grass around the base of the tree, and broken glass joined them, sparkling in the sun. The tree had lost chunks of bark, and smaller limbs lay snapped on both sides.

“Here!” Curtis fingered an indentation. “Your car did this!” He glanced at me, his expression painted with giddiness. “You hit this massive, sturdy tree so hard that it caused this!” He was clearly impressed by my wreck, but mostly by my survival of it.

Why’s this guy so happy? He knows how close I was to dying! He needs to learn how to read a room, I thought, and decided to ignore him.

Turning, I looked around and took in the scene before me. My eyes eventually drifted back up to the road, where the deep black skid marks looked painted on. As soon as I spun to face the tree again, my vision blurred, followed by a rush of dizziness.

I slammed my hand on the trunk to catch myself from falling. I didn’t know if I was going to throw up, faint, or both, but something was happening.

Within seconds, Charlie and Curtis were at my side. Their mouths moved, but the ringing in my ears prevented me from making out what they were saying.

Curtis ran toward his car, and Charlie scooped me in his arms and carried me to his truck. He sat me on the seat, leaving the door open to let the breeze fan my face. Curtis came and handed me a water, which Charlie opened since I was shaking too much.

Gulping deeply, I closed my eyes and savored the cool relief. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was, and after I finished the bottle—in one go—I felt better. I took a moment to catch my breath, wiped my mouth, and opened my eyes.

The looks on Charlie’s and Curtis’s faces almost made me burst out laughing. You’d have thought they’d just seen my actual wreck!

“Y’all,” I said, placing a hand on Charlie’s firm shoulder, “I’m fine. Sorry I scared you, but it was just a little dizziness. I got dehydrated. No big deal.”

Curtis’s face relaxed, but Charlie’s stayed concerned.

“No, Savannah.” Charlie shook his head. “I’m sorry, but all the color left your face. This is serious. I need to get you back to Shelly’s.” He grabbed my ankles and spun me in the seat.

“Charlie, don’t overreact. I’m fine! I just needed some water. See?” I pulled down the visor and pointed at the mirror. “I look better now, and I feel better. Curtis, please continue.” I moved to drape my feet back out the door, but Charlie blocked me with his body.

Wide-eyed, Curtis glanced between me and Charlie and shook his head. “Savannah, if Charlie thinks you should go, you should. I’m happy to come back here any time you want. But for now, maybe you should rest.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Charlie spoke first.

“We had a deal, Savannah. Your health comes first.” He fixed me with a firm but gentle gaze, and I rolled my eyes.

“Ugh, fine.” I crossed my arms and pouted, but then I reset my expression to one of gratitude and said to Curtis, “Thanks, Curtis, for everything. You’re my hero.”

“Just doing my duty, ma’am.” Curtis blushed as he tipped his hat to me.

Charlie closed the door. They shook hands before Charlie got into the truck, and Curtis went back to his.

The entire drive was silent, but it wasn’t until I faced Shelly’s barrage of questions that I realized how peaceful—and surprisingly comfortable—that ride had been.

“What happened? What did he say? Why do you look so pale?” When I shot her a glare, she asked Charlie, “Did something happen? Is she okay?”

“Oh my God, Shelly.” I plopped on the sofa. “I’m fine.”

“No, she’s not fine,” Charlie said, so I threw him a glare too. “She needs rest. She almost passed out.”

“What?” Shelly sat beside me. “I told you, Savvy, that it was too much.”

“Y’all, it’s okay! Just because I got a little dizzy or felt pain in my body or whatever, doesn’t mean I have to be bedridden.”

“You felt pain too?” Charlie sat on the coffee table, gingerly holding my bangs back to inspect my cut.

“It was probably her back,” Shelly said without anyone asking her to. “She fractured her spine in the crash.”

“Shelly! What the fuck?” I elbowed her, and she actually shrank like she felt bad about spilling my personal details. Good. She should feel bad, I thought.

“Savannah,” he said softly, “you can’t rush recovery, and when things like this happen, it’s your body telling you to slow down.”

“I am slowing down. I’m sitting on the sofa.”

“No.” Shelly shook her head. “You need to take your meds, get in bed, and sleep.”

“Sleep? It’s not even noon!” My frustration boiled over. “Why is sleep your answer to everything? I don’t have to sleep—I can just sit here and relax.”

“There’s that stubbornness again,” Charlie said with a laugh, most likely in an attempt to ease the tension. He glanced at Shelly. “Is she always like this?”

“No! Ne-ver!” She stressed each syllable.

With that, they both gave me the same rigid expression.

I wasn’t going to win this fight. “Okay. Y’all win!” I stood with a huff.

Charlie grabbed my arm. “Listen, you call me anytime. And I mean any time—day or night. I can help. You don’t have to do this on your own. Getting answers, I mean. I have resources. Let me be helpful.”

He pulled out a business card, but before I could tell him it wasn’t necessary, Shelly took it.

“Thank you, Charlie,” she said. “I’ll make sure she calls.”

“Okay, ladies. Then, I’ll leave y’all to it.” He stood and gave us each a nod. “Have a good rest of your day.”

As he let himself out, Shelly and I watched him go before I went to my room. I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed. Shelly brought me a glass of water, and after I swallowed the pills, she sat next to me while I recounted what I’d learned today.

“That’s insane,” she said after I finished. “Someone hit you!” She rested her hand on my shoulder. “Savvy, are you all right? That was a lot of information for a person to take in.”

“Yeah, it was.” I stretched my legs and pulled the cover over me. “But, you see, I’m in bed, meds taken, ready to sleep.” I gave her a teasing smile. “So, no need to be concerned.”

She squinted at me. “Mm-hmm, for now, at least.”

By then, the meds had already taken hold, so I had no energy to snap back at her. Feeling completely relaxed, I fell into a deep, dark sleep.

***

Before I could register what was happening, I jolted upright, my chest heaving as a cold sweat clung to my skin. I was frantic, but I didn’t know why. I wiped my forehead on my arm and took deep breaths.

A nightmare. I had a nightmare. The moment this thought came to me, so too did the recollection of what I’d seen in my dreams.

No, not a dream—another memory.

But unlike the others, this one planted its imagery firmly in my mind, its roots sinking deep with fear, sending a chill up my spine.

I’d seen a woman, but only her eyes. Yet that was enough to register her terror, panic, and desperation. The horror reflected in them burrowed into me, unsettling and inescapable. What troubled me the more were the questions that now ran through my mind.

If I didn’t hit anyone—if the other driver sped away before I could see them—then who was this woman? Where had I seen her? And why was she so afraid?