As if it’d obeyed his command, a low hum started up, some lights flickering weakly back to life, others blinking in and out like tired fireflies.
My hands were shaking so hard, I had to curl them into fists. “What… what were those sirens for?”
He brushed wet hair from my forehead, sealing himself against my front. His worried blue eyes searched mine. “They’re tornado sirens.”
My stomach flipped. “But it’s not tornado season, is it?”
“Nope. We’re not gonna get one, but the storms can still be nasty.”
Taking a step back, he took my hand and led me to a door near the bottom of the stairs that I’d never even noticed before, and pushed it open. When he reached inside and flipped a switch, dim, generator-powered lights revealed steps leading down.
A basement. Of course.A north Texas ranch house would absolutely have a storm-safe basement. I just hadn’t seen it yet.
He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me down with him. The space was wide and cool, built for emergencies. It had concrete walls and heavy beams, supplies stacked neatly in one corner. There were a couple of sturdy couches and even a TV on one wall, shelves with bedding, board games, and all sorts of things lining another.
“It’s alright,” he said, turning back to me. “We’ll wait out the worst of it down here. It’s mostly just going to be hailing like crazy. The tornado sirens are just a precaution.” The lights flickered again, cutting him off, the hum of the generator dipping. He exhaled heavily. “Okay, I’m going to go back upstairs and check the main breaker. Make sure the house isn’t taking damage.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I’d intended, but I grabbed his wrist before he could turn. “Stay with me.”
His eyes softened instantly. “Charlotte.”
“Please.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move or breathe. He just looked at me with that intensity he tried so hard to hide. Then he relented, his hands sliding up my arms. “Okay. Okay, I’m not going anywhere.”
In the flickering half-light of the storm, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close as the wind howled outside, and forthe first time since the sky had gone that eerie green, I felt like I could breathe again.
CHAPTER 32
TRENT
The basement wasn’t much. Just a den really, with two side rooms for storage and a backup pantry my mother insisted on stocking like we were preparing for the end of days. The generator hummed steadily above us, a dependable rumble.
At least it was working properly now. That was a godsend.
Charlotte sank into the small couch with her arms wrapped tight around herself, her wet hair dripping onto her shoulders. She tried to look composed, but every few seconds, whenever thunder cracked, her eyes flicked toward the narrow window.
Giving her a minute to realize she was safe now and no longer lost with Hurricane Hustle, I pulled out my phone to check in on my parents, finding a text waiting for my mom.
Claira Shepard: Let me know you’re okay. We’re safe. The hail’s loud as hell. Where are you?
I typed back that we were safe too, in my storm basement. Then I flipped through the weather alerts. There was still just a severe thunderstorm warning, no tornadoes on the ground as far as I could tell.
The power flickered again and the TV went black, then came back to life with the local meteorologist being far too cheerfulabout wind speeds that could rip a roof clean off. I turned the volume down and glanced at Charlotte.
As soon as I saw that she’d started shaking, I moved closer. “Hey, are you okay?”
She nodded, but her teeth were chattering and it dawned on me then that she hadn’t grown up with this kind of weather. Chicago storms were loud, sure, but not in the same way. From what I’d seen when I’d been there, they weren’t this violent.
“You’re freezing,” I murmured when I reached out to touch her shoulder. “Hey, listen to me, we’re perfectly safe unless you decide to get hypothermia in the summer.”
“I’m fine,” she said, the lie so obvious even her brothers could’ve spotted it despite their insane schedules.
When I touched her hand, her fingers were like ice and I shook my head before I straightened up. “You need dry clothes.”
She tensed immediately, like she thought I was going to undress her right there. Hell, the thought had definitely occurred to me, but I kept my voice steady, trying to be reassuring. “I’m going upstairs. I’ll grab towels, clothes, and check on the house while I’m at it.”
Judging by the way her eyes flew wide open, she didn’t like that. She reached for me again, like she had when I’d tried to check the breaker earlier. “Trent, I don’t want to be alone.”
