Scrabbling desperately, Cheyenne found the piece of glass in her pocket. She grabbed it – ignoring how it sliced her thumb – and dragged it across the back of his hand. Roy cursed, then let go of her throat and pried the piece of glass away from her. It was slick with blood, his and hers, and she couldn’t hold on.
Then Roy’s hand was back, like a steel band around her throat. She was going to die, just seconds before being rescued. No! No! She couldn’t die. Not now. Maybe if she started driving again, he would have to let go. One hand found the wheel as her foot pressed the accelerator.
Then there was a thump and a scream, and Roy’s hand was gone. And she felt the rear tire go over something.
Cheyenne heard a car screeching to a stop behind her. The siren cut out. Two doors were flung open.
A man’s voice called out. “Stop! Police! Stay on the ground!”
Footsteps ran toward her. “Cheyenne, it’s the police,” a second man said. “You’re safe now.”
Cheyenne didn’t move for a long moment. Then she said, “Let me feel your badge.” Her foot was on the brake, but she could pivot it to the accelerator at any time.
“What?”
“Didn’t they tell you I’m blind? Let me feel your badge. The man who just tried to kill me told me that he was a cop.” Cheyenne held out her left hand next to the hole – but she kept her right hand on the steering wheel.
She heard him fumble and then he pressed the badge into her hand. Cheyenne ran her thumb across the raised letters. With a trembling hand, she turned off the engine.
“What took you so long?” she whispered.
JUST A FRIEND?
Two weeks later, the phone rang just as Cheyenne finished pouring hot water into her cocoa. She answered it.
“Hello?”
There was a silence at the end of the line. Then a voice said hesitantly, “Cheyenne?”
Suddenly, she was wide awake, even though she had only gotten four hours’ sleep the night before. She was still having trouble sleeping.
“Who is it, Cheyenne?” Danielle called from the living room. Danielle and Cheyenne’s dad were watching a football game.
“Just a second,” Cheyenne said into the phone and then called out, “It’s just a friend.”
Leaving the cocoa on the counter, she walked down the hall to her room, and closed the door.
“What do you want?” She leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door.
Griffin’s voice was very soft. “I was calling to wish you a happy new year.”
“How did you get my number?” Cheyenne realized she was trembling. Sensing her emotions, Phantom got up from his bed on the floor and rubbed against her thigh. She steadied herself by resting her hand on the back of his neck.
“You gave it to my dad, remember? Twice.”
“Didn’t you think I might be trying to forget?”
“I’m sorry.” Griffin’s voice suddenly sounded younger and much less certain. “I’ll let you go.”
Cheyenne didn’t mean to say them, but the words burst out of her. “No – wait.” She took a deep breath. “Are you calling from Chicago?”
“So you heard about that? Yeah, they put me with my mom’s sister and her family. They say I met Aunt Debby when I was three, but I don’t remember it. Nobody liked Roy much, so I guess my mom stayed away after that.”
At the thought of Roy, Cheyenne felt her lip curl. “I guess they were right.”
“Yeah.” Griffin sighed. “I spent all those years thinking Mom must be mad at me. I still can’t believe she’s dead.”
Cheyenne had heard about the deaths: Griffin’s mom’s seven years ago and then Jimbo’s in the woods.
“Have you talked to your dad?”
Cheyenne couldn’t stand to think of Roy. It worked only if she thought of him as Griffin’s dad. She had run over his lower legs with her back tires, fracturing both of them. She had also shot him in the side, but the bullet had only grazed him, missing anything vital. Her dad had told Cheyenne that Roy had been charged with kidnapping, assault, and second-degree murder. Pending a mental health evaluation, TJ faced a dozen charges, including murder. Griffin had agreed to cooperate with authorities.
“No,” Griffin said. “I’m not allowed to. In fact, they don’t even know I’m calling you. I’m sure they would freak out if they knew we were talking.”
“Ditto,” Cheyenne said softly.
“I called from a pay phone in case your stepmom or dad answered. So they wouldn’t see my aunt’s name on the caller ID.”
Cheyenne had tried to explain it to them, but it was clear that Danielle and Nick were more comfortable thinking of Griffin as the bad guy who had kidnapped their daughter. They didn’t like to talk about how Cheyenne had done her best to kill Griffin or how he had saved her in the woods.