Page 94 of Golden Ruin

There’s this thick, weird tension hanging in the air. It matches the energy of the dark clouds closing in on us.

“Text so I know you made it safely.”

I nod. “Will do.”

We linger where we would’ve hugged goodbye, but neither of us leans in.

“I’ll… see you in the morning,” he says, and I nod once, then head toward the truck with Jax.

I drive off, juggling guilt and confusion while walking a tightrope of my own emotions. I didn’t intend to say so much, but holding it in felt wrong. It was overwhelming pretending nothing was off when it was so obvious that wasn’t true. The confession just kind of tumbled out when I ran out of excuses for why something felt different, ran out of places to hide.

I feel it in my bones that something fundamental changed today, and as I stare at Matt through the rearview mirror, I can’t remember a time we felt farther apart.

I shift in my seat when the thought makes me uncomfortable. Or maybe it’s the comparison that pops into my mind that does it.

Because even with Sterling thousands of miles away, with states and an endless stretch of highway between us… his presence sticks with me.

I don’t know where any of this is headed, can’t predict what twists and turns lie ahead, but what I do know is that my heart’s made it clear what it wants.

Sterling.

*

@QweenPandora

Looks like Mother Nature’s in a mood tonight.

If you haven’t checked the weather, you may want to. The city’s preparing for what forecasters are calling one of the nastier storms we’ve seen in a while. Check on the people you love, and definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t when the lights go out.

Later, peeps :)

–P

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Lexi

It’s insane outside. The power has been flickering for hours, and Jax has asked at least five times if the house is going to blow away.

Of course, I told him we’re safe, but the answer I wanted to give was ‘It might.’

On cue, a flash of lightning brightens Jax’s room, then a deafening boom rattles the walls, and the wind howls.

I’m not surprised in the least when I see his tiny feet on the ladder as he climbs down.

“I wanna lay with you,” he says sweetly, and I’m already lifting the blanket to wrap him in beside me.

He’s shaking and it’s hard not to go back to the fire, when it was just the two of us, fighting for our lives.

I squeeze him tighter and close my eyes when another rumble of thunder rattles the house and my nerves.

“You’re safe,” I assure him, but I’m not even sure that’s true at this point.

The lamp on the dresser flickers, then goes dark when lightning strikes again.

“Mommy!” Jax shrieks, hugging my neck harder.

The only thing I can do is hold onto him, praying that brings enough comfort.