Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 3

to celebrate his freedom. Ethan was thrilled for him—but at the same time, he'd never felt further from freedom himself.
    A booming crack of thunder split the air, loud enough to make Ethan flinch. At the same time, a bolt of brilliant blue-white lightning flashed clear to the ground in the near distance, searing an imprint on his eyes. Sparks burst upward from the site of the impact amid endless trees, and there was a muffled, prolonged crackling sound.
    Jude frowned. "Maybe we should pull over, wait this out."
    "Yeah." Despite the relief in his voice, vague unease infiltrated Ethan. Extending the time they spent in close quarters wasn't what he'd had in mind. At least once they reached the campground he could get a little distance. Being this close to Jude for so long was practically torture. He'd never be able to act on his feelings, because he couldn't come out and risk someone in his narrow-minded town finding out. Especially after what happened to old Tom.
    The memory sent a shudder through him, and he pushed it away.
    "Let me know if you see a good spot to get off the road," Jude said. "I can't hardly— fuck! "
    The squeal of the brakes reverberated everywhere as the truck entered a sickening angled slide. Time slowed to a crawl, passing in single frozen images—Jude's face, jaw clenched in grim concentration, his hands fused to the wheel, the rain strobing and stuttering in the headlight glow, the dark mass blocking the road.
    Ethan didn't even realize it was a tree until the truck impacted with a dull crunch.
    His body jerked hard, and the seat belt dug into him, stealing his breath. A deafening silence roared over him. Just as he was sure he'd black out, he managed a sharp exhale, and the sound of rain pelting the truck snapped on like a switch.
    "Jesus," he said in a shaking whisper. "Jude? Are you..."
    A groan responded, and his stomach lurched. He looked over to see Jude with his head planted against the wheel, arms slack at his sides. Blood on his face.
    "Jude!" Ethan fumbled with the seat belt catch. For one terrifying instant it wouldn't release, but at last it clicked down, and he fought free of the belt.
    Before he could move toward Jude, the other man straightened slowly and shook his head. The blood was coming from a nasty gash on his forehead. He touched it, winced, and said, "You okay, man?"
    "Yeah. I'm fine."
    "Good." Jude sent a blank gaze through the windshield. Then his features twisted in rage, and he drew back and drove a balled fist into the steering wheel. The horn let out a brief, pathetic bleat.
    The situation wasn't funny, but the absurd noise—like someone stepping on a rubber duck—had Ethan struggling to hold back a grin. "Well," he said. "I guess that'll teach it."
    Jude swung his head to stare at him, and then laughed. "What can I say? That horn had it coming." His smile faded fast, and he stared straight ahead while the wipers beat senselessly against the rain and the cooling engine ticked and pinged under the hood. "All right," he said at last. "I've gotta try and move this thing."
    "What, the tree?"
    Jude smirked. "The truck. Hang onto something."
    "Right." Ethan grabbed the handle above the door. "You sure that's a good idea?"
    "No." With a sharp exhale, Jude twisted the ignition. The engine coughed, revved down, and then roared into life with a chopping idle that hadn't been there before. Jude hung his head briefly before he popped it into reverse and focused on the rear view mirror. "Here goes."
    The truck lurched back a few feet. As it did, the driver's side rose and fell sharply, accompanied by a deep, hollow clunk. "Shit," Jude said through clenched teeth. He rolled it back further, and the cab clunked up and down with every rotation of the tires. It took several minutes for him to get some distance from the fallen tree and pull as far off the road as the surrounding woods allowed. He threw the gearshift into park and cut the engine. "No way we're making it back down like this."
    "You don't say." Ethan managed a small smile and slid a hand in his pocket to grab his phone. "I've got triple-A," he said. "They'll probably charge extra to come this far, but—"
    "You don't have reception."
    "Come on, man. Think positive."
    "I am positive. No reception up here."
    Ethan extracted the phone anyway. He hit a random button, and the screen flashed to life, greeting him with NO SERVICE.
    "Told you." Jude slumped against the seat. "We're a hundred miles from