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)
I could almost see her biting her lip and gripping the wheel. Why the hell weren’t we there? What good were we all the way down here when our families needed us?
“How’s the bridge?” Sawyer asked.
“I’ll tell you when I’m off it.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
Tense moments passed where all I could do was stare at the phone and pray.
Sawyer flashed his phone. The winds were up to ninety-nine.
“I’m off! Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!”
My shoulders sagged in relief.
“It really pushed me around up there, but I’m okay. It’s getting hard to see, though. The windshield wipers can’t keep up!”
“Okay. Now before you bite my head off, do you remember asking me about the road washing out? The day I took you to Avon?”
“Yeah. That’s where the road’s close to the beach, right?”
“You got it. Listen to me, baby. If that road is washed out, turn around and go back. You have no idea how deep and fast that water will be. It would be like driving the truck straight into the ocean. Do you understand me?”
Silence.
“Morgan?”
“I understand. I’m not leaving Finley to get washed away, Jackson.”
“I can’t lose either of you.” My head dropped.
Sawyer put his hand on my shoulder.
“You won’t. I’m going to make it in time. I promise. The surge isn’t up that far. It can’t be. Now hush and let me drive.”
But it wouldn’t be the surge. That section of road would go down to the waves.
“Holy Lord, that water is creeping up. I’m at Rodanthe,” she called out the update.
“Okay.” I didn’t want her to think she was alone. My nails dug into my arms.
“Shit!” she shouted.
“Morgan?” Pretty sure I drew blood.
“The wind.” Another minute passed. “I’m okay. The wind just pushed me clean onto the shoulder. I’m okay.”
If I never heard the sound of rain again, I’d be just fine with it.
“Avon! Oh my God, I think that’s a porta-potty! There’s stuff flying everywhere! Shit, there’s water on the road, but it’s not up to the curb yet.”
I was going to vomit any second now.
“Leaving Avon.”
She was getting close. “Do you know if the road is still there?” I whispered to Sawyer.
He lifted his shoulders and shook his head.
She could be driving straight into the water.
“The waves. I can see the waves and— Shit!” Skidding tires. “Okay, well, the water’s coming up over the road here with every wave.”
I jolted. “Turn around.”
“No.”
“Morgan! I love you. Please, turn around! Go back to Avon!”
“What did you say to me that night? People will die if I don’t leave right now?”
Every muscle in my body locked. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
“I’m okay, Jackson. It doesn’t look that deep. I’m going to get your little girl.”
The rain cut out.
The sound stopped.
“Morgan? Kitty, are you there? MORGAN!”
Morgan was gone.
The call had ended. I grabbed the phone and dialed her number.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“All circuits are busy—”
“Fuck!” I screamed and slammed my phone on the bed. She’s okay. It’s the cell tower. Not her. She’s okay.
“What can I do?” Sawyer asked quietly.
“Put me on a fucking plane!”
Chapter Thirty-One
Morgan
Morgan, when it’s time to let go, you have to let go. Fall in love. Get married. Have all those babies you want. Just be happy. I hope the guy knows just how lucky he is, because I took way too long to recognize it. Go. Love. Live. I’ll be watching, cheering you on.
My hands cramped around the steering wheel. I wasn’t holding on so much as I was clutching the damned thing.
NC 12 was washed over but not washed out. Not yet. I made it through and onto Hatteras Island. Visibility was shit, and I’d skirted two pontoon boats before curving with the road into Buxton.
The roads were under water. How much? It couldn’t be that much, right? I kept an eye on anything that could clue me in to the depth and made my way slowly through the streets.
Go away, Ingrid!
You’re not welcome, Ingrid!
There were countless variations painted on the boards of houses I passed. Some had previous hurricane names lined through and Ingrid painted over. Rain pelted the back window now that I’d turned, increasing the visibility slightly, but I knew it would only be twice as bad once we were headed back.
There it was. Vivian’s house.
I pulled into the driveway, then said a prayer that she’d forgive me for assaulting her grass and pulled up so the doors opened right in front of the staircase. I put the truck in park but left it running. I still had a half tank, and I wasn’t taking any chances that something would happen and it wouldn’t start again.
I zipped up the raincoat I’d bought at the Virginia border and scoffed at the umbrella from the same store. Like that was actually going to help. Then I pocketed my cell phone in the water-resistant pocket of the jacket. It was a gamble, but I wasn’t going to chance missing his call if Jackson could get through.