Icarus
Alex
“Get away from the fucking creek, Alex.”
That voice, commanding and sharp, was nothing like the man who’d whispered “I love you” in the dark, nothing like Finn at all. It was all wrong, like hearing a stranger speak through his mouth, but still his words struck a direct hit and my chest went cold, the sandbag suddenly heavy in my arms. When I looked up his face was wild with terror, his eyes wide and desperate. But that tone, that voice like I was some subordinate who needed orders instead of a woman who owned and ran her own company. Who was becoming friends with the other woman who had loved him first. Who’d been working beside his family for two hours after spending the last few weeks in his world.
How dare he treat me like some helpless incompetent that needed managing or punishing.
“No,” I stared at him, forcing the emotion from my features. I wouldn’t let him see how much he’d hurt me. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve me. “I’m working. This is important.”
I turned my back on him and picked up another sandbag.
Sand. Twist the neck three times. Carry it to the barrier. Set it down flush against the one Elowyn had placed. The weight felt good in my arms, forty pounds of something useful, something that mattered. Sand. Twist. Carry. Set. My pulse hammered against my throat, but my hands stayed steady.
Another bag. The rhythm took over.
“Alex—”
“Don’t,” I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t afford to. “Just don’t.”
“Damnit, Alex.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, blinked away the stinging in my eyes, and kept working.
Behind me, I heard Luke’s voice, calm and firm, taking Finn away from the crisis he’d just created.
Away from me. Good.
I kept working.
“You okay?” Elowyn asked quietly as Lou handed me another empty bag. Both women watched me, concern etched clearly on their faces.
“I’m fine,” the lie came automatically, smooth as silk. I was always fine. Fine was my default setting, my armor, my survival mechanism. Fine left no room for emotion. Fine kept me in control of the things I couldn’t control. “How much more do we need to build this section?”
“Alex…” Lou swallowed. I looked at her finally. Her eyes were full of grief. Maybe she finally realized he wasn’t the person she’d fallen in love with when she was a teenager.
I shrugged before turning to Elowyn. “How much more?”
“Maybe another twenty bags should do it,” she studied my face for a moment, then nodded toward the rising water. “Creek’s starting to level off, I think. We might have caught it in time.”
Twenty more bags. I could do twenty more bags.
I filled twenty-three bags, each one twisted exactly three turns, placed flush against the others.
But every few minutes, I’d see Finn’s face again. The way he’d looked at me by the creek, like I was reckless and dangerous and needed containing.
“Get away from the fucking creek, Alex.”
Not a request. Not concern. An order.
I shoved it away and kept moving.
By the time we’d finished reinforcing the barrier, the rain hadgentled to a steady drizzle and the creek had stopped rising. Twenty-seven sandbags in this section, each one placed exactly where it needed to be.
“Nice job, everyone,” Nolan said, appearing with coffee. “Alex, Lou, thank you for jumping in like that. Made all the difference having the extra hands.”
I accepted the coffee, all too happy to have it warming my numb fingers. “Happy to help.”
