Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
God knew it had only been his voice and steady, calming presence that had gotten me through Avon. I hadn’t felt alone in those terrifying miles.
The truck doors were sheltered from the worst of the wind because of the garage, and I got the driver’s door open easily. The steps up to the front door were slick, and though the house was now blocking the wind, there was no quieting the sound of rending metal as the gutters ripped from the house.
Keep going. She’s right here.
I made it to the deck and then pounded on the door. “Finley! It’s Morgan! Open the door!” I waited what seemed like an eternity before starting again.
Finley opened the door and looked up at me with wide eyes.
I scooped her into my arms and slammed the door shut. The house was dim.
“Morgan?” She clung to my neck. “You’re all wet!”
I’ve got her, Jackson. I made it. She was here, and safe, and alive. Now I just had to keep her that way.
“Hey, Fin.” Taking a selfish, extra moment to hold her tight, I pressed a kiss to her hair, then put her down. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“I thought you were gone!”
“I was, but I heard you needed some help, so now I’m here!” I smoothed back her hair from her face. “Take me to Grandma, would you?”
She nodded and led me through the entry, past the dining room, and into the living room, which was only lit by three small, exposed windows that topped ones that had already been boarded up.
“Hi, Vivian. How are you feeling?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the coffee table.
“Morgan?” Vivian was in the same position as when I’d called last, but she struggled to sit.
“No, don’t move. I came to take you guys to my house.” My eyes darted around the room, looking for something that would keep her leg stable. “Fin, honey? Why don’t you get dressed”—Juno wound herself through my feet—“and pack up the menagerie. We’re getting out of here.”
“Okay!” Fin took off upstairs.
“I’m not leaving.” Vivian stared me down with a look of authority that might have gotten me about five years ago. “I stayed during Irene, and I’m staying now.”
“Can I see your leg?”
She pulled back the blanket and lifted the hem of her shorts.
That sucker was broken, and if I had to guess, it was in multiple places.
“Right. That’s broken. What’s the highest storm surge this house has ever seen?” I raised my eyebrows at her.
“Nine feet.” She nodded.
“They’re now expecting fourteen. It’s hitting at high tide on a full moon.” Maybe I could break apart a chair or find some kind of bench to strap her to.
“They always overestimate.” She waved me off. “Lunar tide…now that’s a pickle, but I’d be willing to gamble that we don’t see over ten.”
Ten would put water in her first floor.
“Are you willing to gamble Fin’s life?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet so Fin couldn’t hear.
Vivian startled. “You really think it’s going to be that bad?”
“Do you think I would have driven down from D.C. if I thought you’d be okay? Your leg is broken. Fin is five years old. What would you do when water gushes in your door? I can’t leave Fin here. She is coming with me. But I won’t leave you here, either.”
Her mouth pursed as fear skated over her face. “But where would we go?”
“My house can take a fourteen-foot storm surge. It can probably take eighteen. I remodeled to hurricane proof it this year. It’s supposed to stand through a cat four, and this is just a strong three. But we have to go now. The water is rising, and if we don’t make it to the shore in time, we’ll be stuck here.” I scratched Juno’s head and mentally started counting. If she wouldn’t come with us in the next five minutes, I was going to have to knock her out and drag her.
“Imagine heading toward the shore and not inland.” She humphed. “Let’s go, then.”
My shoulders sagged with relief, but I couldn’t afford the time to savor it. We had to move quickly.
I found a shorter length of two-by-four by the door and used belts to splint the area under her leg the best I could. I apologized the whole time she screamed.
Finley’s eyes were wide as she watched.
“Are the animals all packed up?” I asked, watching the clock. The house moved with a groan.
Fin nodded. “Except Cousteau.”
Right. The fish.
“Okay. Get everybody by the door and put on your raincoat.” I patted her on the back, and she ran off.
Five minutes later, I had Cousteau in a water-filled Tupperware container. Phillip and Barnaby were in separate carriers at the bottom of a large beach bag. I slid Cousteau in on top and met Finley in the entry, where she had Juno in her carrier.