Except it wasn't happening. Not actually. Not even the sounds of crunching metal and the desperate grunts of exertion, as her attacker struggled to break away from her savior, were enough to convince her that it was actually happening. She had been tricked by her own senses too many times over the past year to give in to their cheap deceptions again.
How poignant! Her heart is so freshly wounded--even after a year. (Although when I first started reading, I thought she had been held captive for a year. Maybe someone had tortured or brainwashed her. I was relieved to discover only her heart had been broken.)
Voices echoed around her, both of them panicked, one of them concerned. They swam around in her brain, looking for a place that would comprehend the words that were being formed. The unintelligible voices were soon joined, then drowned out by, the sounds of sirens and squealing tires she vaguely recognized as the police arriving. Doors slamming, more stunned voices, repeating the same name over and over again. The one name that she refused to hear, refused to believe. Why wouldn't they stop saying it? She wanted to cry out to them to stop, but somewhere in the confusing din of chaos, she had lost her own voice.
I love how descriptive your story is. The sounds, sensations, thoughts and emotions prevail over appearances and dialogue. It works well.
For the first time, she realized the strong, steady arms around her were trembling.
She's not the only one who feel so deeply. I already used the word poignant, but it fits so well throughout.
Her head snapped up suddenly, like she had been jarred from a deep sleep.
This was the only line that I wasn't fond of, because it jarred me out of the previous emotion. I prefer romance to surprise. However, it didn't ruin the whole story for me. Particularly as you bring me right back in with the next line.
The haunted brown eyes that stared up at him spoke the volumes that she herself couldn't.
Well done.
Elisabeth
