All Good Things

By: Alannah Carbonneau

Chapter 1

Fuck. It was the only word I could think of as I watched the black SUV dart into the intersection. I was already stopped at the god damned light. How the hell hadn't the damned driver seen the red light?

My eyes darted to the little yellow taxi-cab that didn't have a chance against the bulk of the Escalade about to plow into its side. I had seen accidents happen before. This was New York. There were mindless idiots around every corner, but none of them had made me feel this way. I had never wanted so badly to run in front of a moving vehicle in hopes I might be strong enough to halt its deadly quest. I was riveted by the passenger the cab was carrying; I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I noticed her before the Escalade made its appearance. She had unknowingly captivated me. She had been staring at her phone and smiling. Through her dark cascade of wavy brown hair, the red of her lips peeked out, tempting me to lose my carefully calculated control. I worked hard for the control I now possessed over every aspect of my life, but in one moment, that rational control morphed into something I couldn't begin to understand. I wanted to jump from my car and demand the taxi stop driving just so I could catch her name. I had been leaning in my seat, hoping to catch a glimpse of the license plate so I could contact the cab driver at a later time and bribe him for information.

And then the Escalade appeared.

Her eyes lifted as she looked out the window, catching sight of the Escalade and I had been lost. They were a stunning shade of brown, and in the light of the sun that peeked down over the accident that was moments away from occurring they looked almost orange. It was as though they were glowing. Her full lips parted. I knew she was seconds away from screaming.

Her beautiful face was a mask of terror.

I watched, frozen in horrified shock as the Escalade moved in what felt like slow motion toward the cab...toward the girl. A loud crunch ricocheted through the airwaves as the two vehicles came into contact. My heart almost leapt from my chest as I realized I couldn't see the girl and there was no movement from within the taxi.

I needed to get to her.

I needed her to live.

My feet pounded against the pavement as I sprinted across the lanes the Escalade crossed in its perusal to hit its target. My heart thundered in my chest and my blood roared in my veins as I closed the distance with a speed I hadn't known I was capable of. I made my way around the taxi and reamed on the door handle. All around me there was chaos, but to my surprise, I was unable to focus on any of it. The only thing my mind could comprehend was I needed to save her. I needed to get her out of the cab. I needed her in my arms...where she would be safe.

My heat stopped. Her brown eyes were closed and her face and body was slack. My eyes took in the sight my mind couldn't accept. There was blood smeared against the glass of the window where she hit her head upon impact. A shiny silver laptop was on the floor with her purse and its contents strewed atop it. The taxi was a mess, but I couldn't stop staring at her stoic face and limp body. She looked small in the back seat, as though the thing had swallowed her up. I knelt down into the taxi and reached over for her, unbuckling the seatbelt at her waist. I hooked my arms around her frail body so I could pull her over to my side of the cab. She was not heavy by any means...but her weight was deadweight. She was dead, or unconscious, and I hoped for the driver of the damned Escalade, it was the latter.

I straightened my stance as her head lolled lifelessly against my chest. In the background, I could hear the sirens of the ambulance. I hope they fucking hurried. She needed medical attention ASAP.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the driver of the taxi shift and then someone was beside me, pulling the man from the car. I could see the world moving around me, but nothing could take my attention from the girl in my arms. Nothing, and no one, held so much importance. The thought made my knees weak, but somehow I held onto my strength...for her.


It had been four days. Four fucking awful days. In that time, I had remained at the hospital with the girl. Her name was Olivia LeRoux. She was born and raised in Toronto...Canada. She had gone to university and received her masters in English, only moving to New York two weeks after receiving her diploma. She lived here on the upper west side for the last five months. I met her roommate and best friend, Trisha, who filled me in on her name. The rest of the information I gathered about her had been from the extensive background check I had done.

I knew almost everything there was to know about the girl that had been put on paper. She was smart. She didn't particularly seem to get along with her family, but when her grandfather passed away, he left his inheritance to her. Although it was not nearly enough to live off for the rest of her life, it was obviously the benefactor allowing her to pursue her dreams.

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