Soft music played on the radio and Esme let her thumb dance over the top of Carlisle's hand as they continued with their mild embrace as he drove.
"Okay, what the hell is this crap?" Emmett asked, lunging forward to change the radio station.
Carlisle looked over at him and felt his hand separate from Esme's as Emmett punched a button and a hard rock song began to play in place of the previous one.
"Yeah!" Emmett jumped up and hung out through the open sunroof and put both of his hands in the air, shouting out loud and pumping his fists.
Carlisle struggled to keep his eyes on the road with Emmett's wild antics and his legs kept bumping into Carlisle's right shoulder with even the slightest bend in the road.
Rosalie put a hand on her forehead and leaned against the window as she shook her head. She mumbled something under her breath and knew there was no way to call him back.
Emmett took another swig from his half empty bottle and then scowled as he felt it drop out of his hand.
Carlisle jumped as the bottle crashed into his lap, sending liquor all over his clothes in the front seat.
"Emmett!" Rosalie shouted.
"What's wrong with you?" Carlisle finally called up, looking up, down and then back at the road as Esme reached to get the rum bottle off of his lap.
"Watch out!" Emmett's voice bellowed through the night air and everything froze.
Carlisle's eyes widened as he saw a dark figure bounce on the hood of the car with a sickening thud before flying over the top of it. He hit the breaks, sending the car squealing and whipping around in a complete circle before finally coming to a halt in the middle of the dark, windy road.
The four of them sat in silence for a moment, struck with awe and Emmett slowly climbed all the way back in the vehicle holding his face.
"Emmett, you're bleeding," Rosalie said, putting a hand gently on his face.
Carlisle and Esme snapped out of their daze and whipped around to check out their friend.
Emmett wiped blood from his face and looked down at his bloody, white shirt. He paused for a moment. "It's not mine."
"What was that?" Rosalie asked in a panic. She looked out the front windshield prompting Emmett to change moods.
"Damn it, Carlisle, my freakin' car!" he yelled, being the first to swing open the door to head out onto the street. Emmett rushed to the front of the car and right away noticed the dented fender and broken headlight. He whipped around as Carlisle joined him in the road. "Can't you see where you're going?"
"It came out of nowhere, I didn't see it," Carlisle yelled back. He shook his head, "You dropped your bottle, I-"
"A dog couldn't have done that," Rosalie said, shaking her head.
"Yeah, well a deer could," Emmett said angrily.
"Where is it?" Esme asked, looking around.
"What?" Rosalie asked her, shaking with adrenaline.
"If it was a dear then where is it?" she asked again.
"Maybe it ran off," Carlisle suggested.
"Should we find it?" Rosalie asked, "I hope we didn't kill it."
"Screw that, let's go," Emmett said angrily and began his march back to the car.
Esme ran up a few feet. "Oh my God." She bent down and picked up a blood, black boot.
Carlisle felt his chest grow tight and he breathed in heavily. "No way."
Rosalie's jaw dropped and Esme tossed the boot down.
"No!" Emmett called out, "There's no way."
"I didn't see it," Carlisle repeated.
Emmett hurried to the trunk and whipped it open, finding a pair of flashlights he kept for emergencies.
"Carlisle." He tossed him one, and then grabbed Rosalie by the hand and pulled her with him. "Check that side!"
"Okay," Carlisle said, reaching for Esme. The two of them made their way along the side of the dark road before Esme let out a scream.
Emmett and Rosalie rushed up to join them and they all stood, staring down at the motionless body of a man in the street. His face was covered in blood but he wore a pair of fisherman's overalls.
"He looks dead," Carlisle said.
"Check his pulse," Emmett ordered.
"No way."
"You're the one who ramped him!"
"Just do it, Carlisle." Esme said, pleading with her eyes.
Carlisle inched over and tried the man's wrist and then neck. He squatted by him for a moment before raising his eyes to Esme. "I think he's dead."
"Shit!" Emmett yelled to the sky.
"This is manslaughter," Carlisle said.
"It's my car, they'll nail my ass," Emmett said.
"That's not true," Rosalie said, through developing tears.
Emmett walked back over to her. "Are you kidding me? Look at me, I'm drunk as shit!"
"We'll call the police. We'll tell them the truth. They'll believe us."
"I say we get the hell out of here."
"No way are you crazy?" Esme asked, feeling her voice begin to shake. "If there's some him on the car then there is some of the car on him. You're looking at a hit and run."
"Then we dump the body," Emmett said.
Esme shook her head. "I won't have any part of it."
"Look just pretend we were never here," Rosalie urged, beginning to come on board with Emmett's plan.
Emmett continued and looked over the railing down toward the water in the distance. "If we get him out off the dock they won't find him for weeks."
"The currents are strong," Carlisle said quietly.
Esme turned to him in disbelief and he lifted his eyes slowly to meet hers. She shook her head again.
"Listen to yourselves," she contested, "No! We are going to the police!"
"We don't have time for this!" Emmett called out, "We have to move fast."
"This is manslaughter," Carlisle repeated, "We're going to fry no matter who takes the fault."
"Think about this Esme," Emmett pleaded desperately. "College... your scholarship... the guy is already dead. If we go to the police we're dead too."
"Esme, I don't have the family or the money to get me out of this," Carlisle said. He looked at her more desperately than Emmett did, and she could see the guilt in his expression.
The sound of a car's engine in the distance made all of them freeze and Emmett cussed. He looked at Carlisle. "Help me move him!"
The two of them grabbed the man by his arms and legs and got him behind the guard rail as a truck rounded a bend with its headlights shining on them. Rosalie trotted over to where Carlisle and Emmett were leaned over the railing.
"They're slowing down!" she called out.
"It's James," Esme recognized the vehicle and looked over her shoulder at the three of them before approaching the truck.
"Hey Esme," James greeted, "What do you have car trouble?"
"Um..." she looked at the banged up BMW. "Yeah, Emmett just got sick and we're trying to keep the upchuck out of the new car."
James looked in his rearview mirror and eyed the vehicle. "Doesn't look so new anymore." He gave a sinister laugh, "Daddy's gonna be mad."
"Yeah, don't drink and drive."
Carlisle hurried up beside Esme. "What can we do for you James?"
"You can wipe that my-shit-don't-stink grin off your face," James said, letting his smile fade.
Esme looked over at Carlisle and he nodded. "Okay, James. Will do. Have a good night."
James paused and narrowed his eyes. "You almost got that rich boy act down Carlisle."
He nodded. "We'll be seeing you James."
"Yup." He stared at Carlisle for an extra second before nodding at Esme. "Goodnight Esme."
The couple stepped back and let James by. He glanced out the window as Emmett did his best to portray that he was vomiting over the railing and Rosalie rubbed his back. When the truck passed by, Emmett straightened up and glared toward the taillights attempting to get the leftover blood off his face and clothing.
Carlisle reluctantly helped him get the body into the trunk of the BMW before the four of them got into the car and headed down to the beach by a popular fishing dock to get rid of the evidence.