Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“What are we going to do?” I whisper to King, cognizant that the kids are watching us and not wanting to make them as fearful as I am.
“We are going to get through it,” King says, as if it’s as simple as that. I believe him because I have to believe him. Because I can’t imagine a world where any of us don’t get through it.
The reporter continues as the kids chase each other down the hall. “Although the winds will be a big factor in this hurricane, flooding will be the major concern for our area as we are on the low-pressure side of the storm. Get to high ground and an internal room to avoid flying debris. And I say this again with no bullshit, folks. May God be with—”
We don’t even get to hear him finish his sentence because the TV along with the rest of the power in the house goes out. The room is dim and yellow, lit only with the light of the setting sun.
Preppy gasps. “Shit, that was ominous as fuck. And he said bullshit on TV.”
“You can say that again,” King says with a sigh. He turns to Preppy. “Call Bear. I’ll get started here. You know the drill.”
“What drill?” I ask as Preppy pulls his phone from his pocket and races out the door.
“This ain’t our first rodeo, pretty lady,” Preppy replies in a southern cowboy style accent.
“Follow me,” King says as he also pushes out the front door. I do as he says and follow him down the steps. Preppy peels out of the driveway as we reach King’s shop which is attached to our garage. “We have a system in place. I put up the shutters and Preppy gathers the supplies. Food and medical. I’ll call Bear and see if he plans on heading here or staying at the Clubhouse. Either way, he’s in charge of water and generators.”
“I’ve never been through a hurricane before,” I admit.
“We’ve been through a few.”
“How many like this?”
King shrugs. “Had a four once. The only difference is that it was predicted to come, and we were better prepared. Never had one that just changed directions like this before.”
“A wild card hurricane. Unpredictable even when predictable.”
“Preparation is the same for all of them. We just need to be a little faster when it comes to this one”
“But the reality of damage isn’t. What about the addition and the kids—”
“Pup,” King says, and I didn’t realize he moved until he’s right in front of me, cupping my face and forcing me to look up into his eyes. “All that matters is you, the baby in your belly, and the kids up in that house. The addition can fuck off. The house can fuck off. All the people of this town can fuck off. If we concentrate on what matters, we will be fine. I promise you that, and I would never fucking let anything happen to any of you. Ever.”
“That’s true when there are people coming after us, but you can’t fight or shoot a hurricane.”
King lifts the gun from the waistband of his jeans and smiles. “You wanna fucking bet?”
It turns out the gun is for after the storm in case looters came through and wanted to steal from homes they think are abandoned. The fact that anyone would take advantage of people like that, kicking them while they’re down is disgusting, but just because I wouldn’t do it doesn’t mean it wasn’t done and King was right.
We have to be prepared for anything and everything.
However, there are some things in life that no matter how much or little time you have, you’ll never really be ready.
Chapter 5
Ray
“Mommy, I’m worried about the hurricane,” Max says, standing between my knees.
My heart aches that she’s worried about something out of her control. “Hey, it’s the adults’ job to worry about those kinds of things. Stop trying to take my job, stinker.”
“I’m not a stinker! Sammy’s the stinker. Have you smelled his socks?”
“Unfortunately, I have,” I say, tucking an unruly curl behind her little ear.
“Sammy, you’re a stinker!” Max cries and runs back to chase her brother who is halfway up a tree.
King steps out onto the porch dressed in his usual all black with a plain black baseball cap on his head. “Hey, Pup.” His voice is a deep bravado that tugs on every nerve-ending in my body. I thought it would fade over time, but it hasn’t. Every day with him only amplifies my feelings.
Heart and body.
He sits on the step above me and looks out into the front yard where our kids are playing.
Nicole Grace is toddling around, chasing her brother and sister. Sammy and Max are shooting each other with massive water guns, gifts from Bear. I’m rocking the soon-to-be newest addition to our family in my protruding belly as I take in the laughs and squeals of delight coming from our ever-growing crazy brood.