Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“Tell me how you really feel,” I joke.
“You don’t need me to do that. You already know.” I’m about to respond when my phone starts buzzing in my ear.
“Hey, Dad, hold on a second.” He makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat, and I place him on speaker phone. I swipe up to get out of the phone call and look at my texts.
Lo: Hey, girl, you got a second?
Me: Hey, girl, hey! I’ve got all the time in the world for you. Is everything okay?
“It’s Lauren. Stay on the phone, please. She’ll usually call me instead of text.” Lo lives in the middle of the two of us but further inland.
“Not a problem. You’re doing me a favor. After we hang up, my next call would be to her.”
Lo: Mandatory evacuation. I’m in a flood zone. Who freaking knew?
Me: Do you have somewhere to go?
“Dad, don’t hate me.” Lauren’s on her own, minus Chadwick the dick wick.
“Oh fuck, what are you getting me into now?” He pretends to sound put off.
Lo: A hotel?
Me: Absolutely not. Give me one minute.
“Lauren is in a flood zone. They’re making her evacuate, a mandatory type of situation. Her only option is a hotel. Can she please stay with you? Pretty please with a cherry on top? I’ll make sure it’s only her and not her ass wipe of a boyfriend.” I talk a million miles a minute, getting it all out, and then my thumbs are hammering out a text without waiting for a response.
Me: Go to Dad’s. He’s got plenty of room. I can’t tell you the state of his house, but he’s not in a flood zone, so you’ll be safe.
“Does she need a ride?” He doesn’t even miss a beat.
Lo: Is he sure?
Me: He’s positive, asking if you need a ride.
“Waiting on a response now. I’m going to go with no. You know how she is with her car. Where she goes, her car goes.”
Lo: Nope, packing my car now and heading out.
Me: Where is the name that shall not be named staying?
Lo: FUCK HIM.
“She good?” Dad asks after I stay silent a moment too long.
“Oh yeah, she might have a broken heart or be in her man-hater stage, though.” I hate that Lauren is going through this without me.
“Not worried about that. Tell her to send me a text or call when she’s on her way. Gonna let you go. Love you, Ky.”
“Love you, Dad. Thanks for taking care of Lo.” We hang up, and I get back to my best friend.
Me: We’re going to talk about this, whenever you’re ready. Dad said to call or text when you’re on your way.
Lo: I will, promise.
I toss my phone on the couch, close my eyes, and try not to worry about Lo and what she is or isn’t going through. This week is really throwing me for a loop. I take a deep breath and wait impatiently for Rhodes to come home.
12. Rhodes
“Damn, it’s getting swirly out there.” The minute I walked through the door coming from Whitecaps, Kyra came right to me. She told me about the conversation she had with her dad and the texts that came through from her best friend, Lauren. My arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as possible while she let the emotions leave her body.
“No more going out there. Whatever happens, happens,” she states with authority in her voice. I’d laugh, but I’m not a fool, and the last thing I need to do is add to her worry. Earlier, before the wind really started picking up, I noticed a couple of chairs were moving around. The luck I have, one of them would have been slung against my neighbor’s window or my own, scaring the shit out of us or breaking one of their windows. The good thing about this house being completely remodeled and updated meant hurricane proof everything up to category five. Anytime there’s a hurricane, they always manage to hit the hardest in the middle of the night. Exactly what’s happening with this one, and Mother Nature is already turning up the wind.
“It’s beautiful in a haunting kind of way,” she says.
“Yeah, it is. Come tomorrow when the storm has calmed, it’ll have a different kind of beauty.” Kyra is on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, a blanket tossed over her body, and a glass of wine in her hand. When I told her about the chair being tossed around, she tried to run for the door to do it herself, but I hooked my arm around her waist and brought her down to the couch. I knew what she had rolling around in her head. The concern she feels for me being on my prosthetic too long during the first couple of days has her turning into a worrywart. I did my due diligence, kissing my woman, shutting her up, and getting her so hot and bothered her thighs spread and I wedged myself between them. The chair could fucking wait. The minute Ky’s moan left her mouth, stopping was no longer an option.