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Crash! We spring apart.
“What the hell was that?” I gasp.
That sound wasn’t thunder. It twas too loud for thunder, too close.
He takes my hand and we hurry upstairs, going from room to room until we find the source of the noise. “Fuck,” he growls, stepping into the large primary bedroom. Glass is splintered across the wood floors, the storm blowing inside where a massive tree branch has knocked through the entire side of the house.
Forget the shutters, forget the boarded up glass, this is a huge branch. The house didn’t stand a chance.
The wind is howling something crazy, blowing water, leaves, and bits of glass right at us.
“Come on!” He tugs me from the room and slams the door, then pulls me into the center of the house and the kitchen pantry where there’s no windows nearby.
He never expected that to happen, but I did. I did because this is a Category 4 fucking hurricane! Just because we’re not in the flood zone doesn’t mean we’re not in the danger zone. We never should’ve stayed here. What if the winds tear the house down around us?
Twenty-Three
“Don’t panic.” He kneels in front of me, hands on my hips and face tilted up. “It’s all going to be fine. Just wait here?—
“No! Don’t go back out there!”
“I’m just going to grab us some blankets and pillows. I’ll be fast.”
“And we’ll stay in here the rest of the night?” I beg, my voice coming out like a child’s.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been so scared. Even though I want to be logical, to insist that we’re fine, that the odds of more trees breaking through the house are low, that this place is practically a fortress . . . I can’t. I’m a bundle of nerves again. I’m walking a tightrope and I’ve lost my balance, about to plunge to my death.
He gets up and hands me one of the chocolate bars that we bought at the supermarket earlier today as if that’s going to help. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so freaked out. “Eat this. Think about how it tastes. Let it melt on your tongue. Focus on the chocolate and I’ll be back before you finish.”
And then before I can protest any more, he’s gone and I’m shoving gourmet chocolate into my mouth and trying not to cry.
He’s right though, he’s back before I can finish the bar and I hand the rest to him. “I don’t want any more.”
He plops it into his mouth and chews while he gets to making us a bed, right here on the pantry floor. The lights are on. I don’t want to turn them off. I don’t know how either of us are going to sleep but right now I don’t care about sleep. We can sleep when the storm is gone and this is all over.
Or when we’re dead.
We’ve got two blankets below us for padding and one on top, and he takes my hand and squeezes once before letting go. “I brought my phone, laptop, and headphones,” he says. “Do you want to try watching another movie?”
I swallow hard and shake my head, the exhaustion hitting now that the adrenaline has worn off. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just talk.”
I get brave enough to turn off the light but it’s so dark that I freeze. He takes my hand and helps me into the makeshift bed. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
This is my chance. I don’t think he’ll leave me alone in here, no matter what I say that could possibly piss him off or make him defensive. And I have so many questions. I borrow against his chest, wrap my arm over his body, and summon my courage.
“Why did you stop me and Cooper from having sex?” I start. “And don’t say it’s because you claimed me first when you and I both know you treated me like crap all summer. There’s something more to it.”
He’s quiet. Too quiet.
“Just tell me,” I press. “I deserve to know.”
Nothing.
“Ethan!” I elbow him in the ribcage and he growls.
“Cooper knew better than to get you in that position and he did it anyway.”
“But I wanted him to.”
