Yellow Lights

A harsh, blinding strobe of yellow light suddenly swept across the interior of the car.

The piercing glare flashed repeatedly through the rain-slicked windshield, casting stark, shifting shadows across their faces. The rumbling diesel engine of a heavy-duty tow truck drowned out the sound of the rain.

Julian jerked back as if he had been burned.

He threw himself back into the driver’s seat, his chest rising and falling in erratic, jagged gasps. He gripped the leather steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white, staring straight ahead into the blinding yellow lights of the truck.

Caleb remained pressed against the passenger door, his heart threatening to beat its way out of his ribcage. His lips tingled, his entire body humming with a violent, unspent electricity. He watched Julian struggle to pull the pieces of his arrogant mask back together, but the facade was fractured. Julian’s hands were visibly trembling against the wheel.

Three sharp knocks sounded against Julian’s window.

Julian cleared his throat, a rough, gravelly sound, and rolled the window down a few inches.

"Got a call for a tow?" a gruff voice yelled over the storm.

"Yes," Julian replied. His voice was steady, but entirely devoid of its usual biting edge. "The blue sedan. The front axle is likely compromised."

"Right. Let's get out and take a look," the driver shouted back.

Julian rolled the window up. He killed the engine, plunging them back into the chill of the evening. He didn't look at Caleb. He reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out into the freezing deluge without a word.

Caleb sat in the dark for a long second, trying to steady his breathing, before pushing his own door open.

The rain hit Caleb instantly, instantly soaking through his clothes, but he barely felt the cold. He walked around the back of the Audi, stepping into the space between their two wrecked cars. The tow truck driver was already hooking chains to the undercarriage of Caleb’s sedan, shouting instructions over the thunder.

Caleb looked up.

Julian was standing on the opposite side of the crushed metal hoods. The older man was completely soaked, his expensive suit ruined, the rain washing down his sharp, aristocratic face.

Through the curtain of the storm and the chaotic flashing of the yellow strobe lights, Julian raised his head and locked eyes with Caleb.

There was no glare. There were no insults. There was only a burning, exposed, entirely unresolved look that stripped them both bare in the middle of the empty lot. It was a silent admission, hanging heavy in the freezing air between them. The accident had broken the barrier, and neither of them had any idea how to rebuild it.