Instead of following me to my car, Rick starts for his truck.“You’re not driving,” I call out over the rain.
“I’m fiiiine,” he shouts back.
Don’t tell me I have to steal his keys to get him into my vehicle.This is the last straw.“I said you’re not driving.”Is he trying to get himself killed?“The fire department and police will have enough to deal with tonight without having to haul you out of a ditch.”
Rick’s shoulders slump as he turns and slinks toward my car, stomping right through the puddles collecting in the pitted driveway.He falls into the passenger seat with a huff and refuses to put on his seat belt.I don’t have time for his tantrum, so I tell him that if he wants to fly out of the car and die on the pavement, that’s his choice.
By the time I pull out of the parking lot, his seatbelt is fastened.
When I get to Mugs, I tell Rick to stay put and throw my car into park right outside the front door.I lift the hood of my sweatshirt, but it falls back down the moment I step out of the car.Wind rips at my hair and rain batters my face as I fight to get the damn window shutter fixed so it doesn’t get torn clean off.
I still love this island, even when there are storms.Because no storm lasts forever.The morning after one of these blusters blows in always has the most beautiful sunrise.The beaches will be covered in shells and Inner Shores will go back to being the paradise it is.
Right now, though?I’m cursing the weather gods.
Stupid damn shutter won’t stay?—
Ouch!Dammit.
A splinter in my finger.Isn’t that just great?
Icing on the damn cake.I throw all my weight against the shutter, and it must take pity on me because it decides to give up and let me latch it closed.
I’m a drowned rat by the time I get back in the car, but my darling dad doesn’t seem to notice.
He’s too busy pouting about being kicked out of the bar.
The palm trees on either side of Main Street bend and twist, wind tearing at their fronds.Streetlights flicker and an angry black sea churns in the distance.
Despite a few branches littering the road, we make it back home safe and sound.I open the front passenger door, and Rick stumbles out.I’m about to follow him up the stairs when the mat Ethan bought me takes off like a freaking kite.
In the grand scheme of life, a doormat really shouldn’t matter, but for some stupid reason, it does to me.I slip on my way down the stairs to catch it, banging my butt on the bottom step.That’s when I see my surfboard cracked in two pieces beside one of the shuddering palms.
You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.
I texted Rickfive times, asking him to please put it away, since I accidentally left it on the back porch.He promised that he would take care of it, and now it’s broken.
Lightning flashes, thunder booms, and my heart splinters in two.
I need to go back inside; it’s not safe to be out here.But right now, standing in the pouring rain sounds a heck of a lot better than seeing my dad passed out on the couch like every other night this week.
I’m done being let down by him.
I’m just fucking done.
I clutch my new mat to my chest, climb into my car, and slam the door shut.
Lightning forks through the sky, highlighting the wall of sandbags stacked on the far side of my house.Sandbags I’m ninety-nine percent sure my dad didn’t put there.
Which means Ethan—a guy who barely knows me—must’ve used his own money to prep my house for a storm, while my own dad couldn’t even bother taking the time to keep one of my most prized possessions safe.
A dark shape moves in the corner of my eye.Before I can twist in my seat, the car door opens wide.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”Ethan gasps, rain pouring down his stubbled cheeks.
“Getting a tan.”What does it look like I’m doing?I’m sitting in my damn car.
He shoves his sopping hair back from his forehead.“For fucks’ sake, Chloe.Go inside.”
