Page 33 of Chasing the Other Woman

Sam.

I can hear a broadcast on one of the warehouse radios confirming what I already know. Rotation confirmed near town. Damage reports trickling in.

I’ve already got my keys in my hand and I'm heading toward the door when Hershel is beside me.

“I’m driving.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m not that hurt.” Not hurt enough to stop me from getting to Sam, I want to say, but Hershel already knows.

Luci’s behind us. “Brooks, the chase⁠—”

“I’m going to Muncie.”

“You don’t even know how bad it is yet.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to my wife.”

The chaotic noise of the warehouse has dropped to the point someone could hear a pin drop.

“You can follow,” I say as I move toward the bay doors. “You can run the planned chase without me. You can shut the whole damned stream down and tell the sponsors to call my lawyer. Do what you want.”

My hands shake as I walk toward the truck, pulling the door open with more force than necessary. The wind flings it backward.

Hershel’s already in the passenger seat, rightly assessing that he’s already lost the battle for the steering wheel.

I start the engine and tear out of the yard, ten thousand scenarios, each one worse than the one before it, filling my head.

What if she’s hurt?

What if she’s scared?

I almost laugh at that one. My Sammy Girl? I’ve seen her face monsters head-on with a smile on her face.

What if she’s…

I don’t finish that one.

I pushed her away because I was afraid a storm would take her away from me.

I punished her because I was afraid she’d found comfort in someone else.

And now the only thing I can think of is:

What if I pushed her into the very thing I’d been trying to keep her safe from?

Nine

SAM

One of the most stressful parts of storm cleanup is keeping those who weathered the first storm from finding ways to kill themselves. In the past ten minutes, I’ve had to repeatedly remind people not to get too close to downed power lines, to be mindful of broken glass, and not to get too friendly with animals that have found sudden freedom due to the storm.

Meanwhile, second only to knowing everyone is safe and sound, all I want is a hot shower and clean clothes. My jeans are soaked through. No doubt my hair looks like it’s weathered its own storm. And my boots squish whenever I take a step.

In the past hour, the town has found its way out of the chaos as best it can. Generators have begun to power up. Word that a couple of cherry pickers have been spotted on the west side of town sends up a cheer throughout the bar. And since the sun is setting, people are still finding their way to The Funnel Cloud just like they do every night. Luckily, Petra’s generator is working and the lights are back on for now.