‘OK. Can you—?’ As he stepped back, glass powdered under his boot. ‘What’s that?’
‘It blew off the wall.’ I pointed to the sad, crumpled, soggy mess that had once been my favourite painting, surrounded by splinters of wood and glass. Jesse looked down at my feet.
‘We need to get you out of here.’
I went to step forward but suddenly, one strong arm was under my knees and I was scooped up and resting comfortably against a very solid chest. ‘Apologies but if that’s smashed, there’s glass everywhere.’ He looked up as another flash illuminated the room. ‘You also appear to be missing a window.’
‘I think that’s the least of my problems right now,’ I replied, looking up at him. I couldn’t see his expression but I felt his arms tighten a fraction.
‘Buildings can be fixed. People are more important.’
‘If you’re going to be nice to me, you need to put me down right now because I’m in a very emotional state and I refuse to cry in front of you.’
‘You’ve every right to be emotional,’ he said, turning towards the stairs and making his way carefully down them, his arms solid and reassuring around me. ‘But I’m not putting you down until I know your feet aren’t going to be cut to ribbons. Besides, we need to get you out of this house.’
‘I can’t leave it!’
‘You have to, Felicity!’ Jesse said. His torch sought out a pair of my shoes, which he picked up and placed in front of me, and then he put me down so that I could step straight into them.
‘No, I don’t. I’m sure the storm will be over soon and I need to be here to assess what the damage is once it’s light and then sort out getting it back on the market.’
‘Wait, what? The market?’
‘I’m done! If there was ever a sign that I am most definitely in the wrong place, then I’m pretty sure this is it!’ I flung my arms wide. ‘The sooner I get out of this, and back to civilisation, the better.’
‘Right. Well, in the meantime, this house isn’t safe for you to stay in. We don’t know what structural damage that tree has done and the storm isn’t over yet. The safest thing for you to do now is get out of here and come back in the morning when it’s light.’
‘Fine!’ I grabbed my keys from the bowl and marched to the door. My foot and hand stung and I had a splitting headache but I was getting out of here.
‘Felicity, wait. I’ll drive you.’
I yanked a coat off the hook, shrugged violently into it and pulled open the door, mentally adding ‘more substantial lock’ to my shopping list bearing in mind how easily Jesse had got in. ‘Thank you, but I’m quite capable of… You have got to be fucking joking!’
Jesse took the keys from my now limp hands as they hung at my sides, gently moved me outside and locked the door. I was still staring at my car. At least what was left of it. The universe, or whoever the hell was in charge, not content with letting me ruin my career and jettison everything I’d worked for in order to come to this disaster zone, had not only sent a tree through my roof, barely missing reducing me to a pile of goo, but had also aimed a whole tree at my car and dropped it right down the centre. I now, effectively, owned two cars. Or at least two halves of the same one.
I felt my body sagging. I’d thought I was done before but apparently not. Now, though, I was utterly, totally and completely done. I began to slide to the ground.
‘Upsy daisy.’ Jesse’s arm was back round me, holding me up. My feet felt leaden.
‘Just leave me here. Please.’ My voice sounded small.
‘Not going to happen.’
I wriggled out of his arm. ‘Why?’ I stepped back, suddenly finding my voice again. ‘What are you even doing here? Why do you care if I stay here or not? You know what?’ I yelled against the weather. ‘I wish I’d never moved! I wish I’d stayed right in that bed when that bloody tree came in!’
Suddenly, I was back up in his arms, back against that chest. ‘We’re going home.’
‘This is my bloody home.’ I kicked my feet and one of my shoes flew off. Of course it did. ‘Put me down!’
‘I’m about to.’ He pulled the handle on his truck door, kicked it open and deposited me inside, not especially gently, then slammed the door shut. He’d left the lights of his pick-up on when he’d come in and I saw him cross their beam, his eyes squinting against the driving rain, mouth set in a grim line. Then he pulled himself in behind the wheel, the engine bursting to life, and the truck cut through the quagmire that was officially my drive. In the light of the truck’s interior, I could see the tension in his face. Well, good, because I was angry too.
‘You know this is kidnapping.’
I caught the tiniest headshake.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
