“Oh, come on!” She slammed the pot down and looked up at the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Logically she knew it was only tea, but her logic seemed to set with the sun, and if Mother Nature expected her to make it through tonight, then she needed her damn tea.
The wind howled, and branches slammed against the glass of the sunroom. The doggy door flapped back and forth. Fearing the flap would rip off its hinge, Mackenzie dropped her head with a resigned sigh and shuffled against the cold tile to fasten it shut. It wasn’t as if Muttley would venture out tonight. She couldn’t even get him to enter the sunroom, let alone go out in the storm.
When Mackenzie secured the door, her toes settled on cold, wet tiles, and she cursed. In her woe-is-me tantrum, she’d forgotten to throw on not only pants but also her house boots.
Shaking her head, she turned back toward the kitchen to fetch her boots. An enormous crackle of energy filled the air, so close Mackenzie could feel the static build around her. Before she could move, thunder exploded directly overhead, rattling the glass walls.
Mackenzie’s heart stuttered. The floor vibrated, sending violent tremors underfoot. She pressed a hand to the wall for balance. The cold glass fogged under her touch when, somewhere close, a transformer exploded, emitting a sharp, static-filled rumble. Directly overhead, another ominous quake of thunder shook the house.
Muttley let out one ferocious bark after another.
“Stay, Muttley,” she commanded with a tone that demanded compliance.
She was about to join him when an ear-piercing crack pounded through the yard and ricocheted off the sunroom’s glass walls, followed by a terrifying crash.
Instinctually, Mackenzie’s hands flew over her head as she ducked, curling into a ball.
As if the room were possessed, a chaotic symphony of cracks and bursts erupted as the roof shattered. Her scream was cut short by a shower of glass. Razor-sharp shards rained down, pelting her arms and legs and slicing at her feet.
The chaos ended as quickly as it had begun. Mackenzie’s ears rang through the still silence. Eventually the buzz gave way to Muttley’s ferocious bark, the whistle of wind as it blew through the space with enough force to whip at her hair. She didn’t need her sight to know that the house had been ripped open and was now exposed to the elements.
The groan of broken wood, the crackle of leaves, and the scent of sap settled around her, telling her the old oak tree had caused the crash, and she was extremely lucky she hadn’t been in its path.
Breathing hard, her heart pounding against her ribs, Mackenzie slowly lowered her hands and straightened. She held her breath and shook her head, tiny bits of broken glass sprinkling to the floor.
Muttley continued to bark, his stress increasing with each cry.
“Okay, boy,” she told him, “I’m fine. I’m coming.” Mackenzie took a tentative step toward her distressed pup, and pain sliced through her foot. She sucked a breath at the sting of glass and pulled back.
The clack of Muttley’s nails and the jingle of his dog tags shot fear through Mackenzie’s heart. She thrust her hand out. “Stay,” she ordered. But she was too late, and Muttley yelped in pain, then whined.
Now she wasn’t the only one with glass in her foot. And there wasn’t anyone around to help. She felt that familiar panic swell, fill her body with the leaden need to sit down until help came.
She shivered as a cold wind cut through the room. Taking a breath, she bent down to gingerly brush glass from the sole of her foot. When it was clean, she carefully set it down in the same place it had been when the roof caved in.
“You got this,” she whispered, hoping when she said it, it would become truth.
Biting her lower lip, she balanced herself equally on both feet and crouched. She lightly patted the floor around her, testing the surface for debris. Glass scratched her palms and she gasped, drawing her hands back.
She so didn’t have this. She was barefoot, alone, and surrounded by a sea of shattered glass.
“Holy shit.”
Overwhelmed by the situation, she felt the words choke out of her. She wrapped her arms around her knees and pressed her forehead there. Her insides trembled, and her mind raced. What now? What the fuck now? Savannah was gone, Hunter was out of her life, and she had no way of calling out for help. She was trapped in her own worst nightmare.
And, God, she was tired. So tired of handling everything alone. A sob of utter anguish rocked her chest.
Muttley’s barks had become shrill and scraped her nerves. A wave of white-hot, disgusted-with-herself fury swept through her, and she lifted her head and yelled,“Muttley. No.”
His barks transitioned into whines, and Mackenzie put her head back down, wiping her face with Hunter’s shirt.
Hunter.The thought of him made longing cut through her. God, she missed him. Missed the way he held her and the way he believed in her—even when she didn’t know how to believe in herself.
And right then, she could use some of that unwavering belief of his. Needed his courage to take the leap without being able to clearly see the net.
Tears burned her eyes. Tears of frustration and pain and fear. And for one self-indulgent moment she thought about just giving up. Just sitting down in the glass until the storm passed. Until someone found her. But then she wouldn’t be living independently, would she? Then she would have given up Hunter for nothing.
