She could feel her cheeks flushing at the memory of that day—at the alternate personality she’d seemed to instantly develop. She smothered the quick rise of regret and guilt—because her words had been well deserved. Hadn’t they?
“Which means there’s not a lot left to say, right?” She pushed his arm away from her car door and succeeded in opening it this time. “Go back inside, Ian. I’m sure your bimbo girlfriend is getting lonely.”
“Ouch.” He gave a harsh laugh, but didn’t stop her. “You’re really quite good with the barbed insults for someone who tries hard to be known as the nice girl.”
A response was on her tongue, but she refused to let it fly. Instead she climbed into her car, shut the door and drove off a moment later.
In the rearview she watched him move back into the pub, and she bit her lip.
He wanted to turn this on her? Make her look like the evil bitch? It wasn’t fair. But then it’d never been fair.
“He’s an asshole,” she whispered. “He’ll always be an asshole.”
When tears filled her eyes, she gave a growl of dismay. She wouldn’t cry over him. Not again.
She turned the old Chevy onto the main road and hit the gas. Impatiently, she wiped the moisture from her eyes and then cranked the radio to distract her.
One month. She just had to get through one month. And she’d do it by holing herself up at Gran’s with some good books and her work to keep her busy.
She left Oak Harbor, roaring down the two-lane highway that was soon thickly lined by trees.
It was the tears in her eyes that delayed her spotting them. But when she finally focused on the deer and a small fawn moseying across the road ahead, Sarah slammed on her brakes.
She wouldn’t be able to stop in time! A scream tore from her throat. Instinct, and the desire not to murder Bambi, had her swinging the wheel to the right.
The car veered off the road and even though she still had her foot on the brakes, she knew she was going to hit the tree.
Chapter Five
On impact everything went red, before darkness rolled in momentarily. When she blinked back to alertness, pain had washed through her as she struggled to push aside the deflated airbag.
“Whoa.” She patted herself down, checking to make sure nothing was bleeding or broken. Her head hurt like crazy and her muscles were overtly taut, but nothing seemed seriously wrong.
Her door was jerked open and an unfamiliar face on an elderly man stared down at her with concern, asking her something.
“What?” she shook her head, completely disorientated.
And then the man stepped back and another figure appeared, crouching down to talk to her.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Can you get out of the vehicle?”
Her heart rose in her throat and her eyes widened. For a moment she’d thought she was staring at Ian, but then the sheriff’s uniform registered and she realized this wasn’t her ex, but his equally attractive twin. The missing scar near his left eye was another clue it wasn’t Ian.
“Colin?” Her voice croaked and she tried to make her way out of the car.
Colin’s brows drew together in confusion, even as he rushed to help her climb out.
“Do I know you?” He paused and his lips pursed. “Aye, wait a minute. Sarah?”
She nodded, frustrated to feel her eyes filling with tears. It had already been too much. And now this? Crashing her car and being forced to face another McLaughlin family member?
“Are you hurt, luv?”
Shaking her head, she couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “No. No, I don’t think so. A little sore, but okay I think.”
“There you go, then. Take a deep breath.” He caught her shoulders in his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be all right. I promise.”
What the hell was wrong with her? She was falling apart all over Ian’s twin. But she suspected she would’ve had the same reaction to whoever had pulled her from the car.
The adrenaline pulsing through her body started to diminish and she scrubbed at her moist eyes.
She turned to look at her car and let out a cry of dismay. The front was smashed in, the hood bent into an inverted V. And both her airbags had deployed.
“Oh no,” she whispered, shoving her hands through her hair. “This looks bad.”
“Aye. It doesn’t look good. Can I call someone for you, Sarah?”
She shook her head, wishing she could just spout off the number of someone. Anyone. “No. There’s nobody.”
No one who was in Washington State anyway. Not since Gran had passed.
Colin asked another question, but she couldn’t focus. She was too busy wondering how she was going to fix Gran’s car—which was her only vehicle on the island. How could she afford it?