Owen navigated his way around overturned furniture, the tightness in his chest and sick feeling in his belly worsening with each step, and the knowledge the water had the power to toss chairs around. He moved carefully through the slush towards the front of the house, the side that faced the bay, the side that looked to the ocean and would have taken the full brunt of the avalanche of water that had rushed through the house. The floor-to-ceiling windows were gone, the shattered glass no doubt mingled with the sludge on the floor. A couple of panes of glass in the louvre windows that bordered each side of the main opening, hung loosely. Owen was glad he was wearing boots.
He ignored the broken remnants of their home as the panic swelled and threatened to choke him. “Sebastian. It’s me, Owen. Are you here? Sebastian?” He skirted the dirty kitchen, and headed straight for the bedrooms, peeking into the bathroom on his way past. Nothing.Where the fuck is he?
Owen stood on the soggy carpet of the bedroom and fumbled for his phone, crossing his fingers there’d been some miracle and mobile reception had returned. The tiny letters of the “SOS” on the display mocked him. Yes, this was a freaking emergency, but he needed to call Sebastian, not the emergency services, although he wondered if that function would even work. He’d never had reason to use it in the past. Maybe he should trythe emergency services after all. Perhaps they could put him in contact with someone who’d know what the fuck was going on. What if something had happened to Sebastian? Did they keep a list of injured people?
A sudden thought hit Owen. He needed to report Sebastian as missing. Someone—the coastguard or the State Emergency Service or whoever—someone needed to know to look out for Sebastian. He sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the moisture that soaked into the seat of his still damp jeans. But telling the authorities that Sebastian was missing made it real.
Fuck! Itisreal. He’s not here. I don’t know where the fuck he is. He could have been washed out to sea and drowned. Fuck!
Owen looked around the devastation of the bedroom and something caught his eye. The glass bowl he’d bought for Sebastian was resting on the carpet. Oh, God, he hadn’t even realised Sebastian had brought it with him to the island. Owen picked it up, using the hem of his T-shirt to wipe at the mud. Dark smudges smeared across the surface, dulling the glass, but it was whole and unscathed.
Owen’s eyes burned as the tears finally came and overflowed, rolling down his cheeks to seep into his T-shirt. He clutched at the bowl and gave in to the pain in his chest, and great wracking sobs spilled forth.
Chapter Fourteen
“Owen?”
Owen shook his head a few times to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. His name being tentatively whispered was like music to his ears. He raised his head, dragging his gaze from the bowl in his hands, and meeting Sebastian’s gaze. The stab of emotion nearly knocked him over.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, fearful the bedraggled man standing there was an apparition, not the actual man he loved. His throat choked, and tears welled again. “Oh my God.”
Sebastian stepped into the room, stumbling to his knees in front of Owen. Owen thrust the bowl onto the bed beside him then reached out to wrap his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders and haul him into a hug. He needed to feel him close, to hold Sebastian, the warm, and living, and breathing Sebastian.
Sebastian tensed and made a sharp exclamation, then his shoulders shook, his whole body quaking with sobs that mirrored Owen’s own ragged breaths. He could hardly believe Sebastian was in his arms—that they were together again.
“It’s all right, baby. I’m here, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.” Owen crooned the words against Sebastian’s ear as he rocked him in his arms. He repeated the mantra over and over again. Owen wasn’t sure whether it was to reassure Sebastian or to comfort himself. They’d found each other, Sebastian was here with him in what remained of their bedroom.
Sebastian’s sobs gradually subsided but he still shook, his entire body trembling. He was damp and smelled of the sea and something earthy and musty.
Owen pulled back slightly to give himself space to look at Sebastian, really study him, to make sure he was truly okay. Reluctant to lose contact completely, he held Sebastian’s upper arms as he scanned him from the top of his tousled hair down. The entire left side of Sebastian’s face was grazed, a series of red lines framing his face from brow to chin. Some of the lines were deep gouges, blood still beading in the grooves. A huge knot had formed near his temple, the bruise already forming.
“Oh, baby,” Owen whispered and moved a hand up to cup Sebastian’s undamaged cheek. He wanted to kiss him but the split lip stopped him. Instead, Owen glided his mouth gently across Sebastian’s forehead, avoiding the lump, but needing the contact. He held his lips against Sebastian’s cool skin for a moment as he took a deep breath and tried to settle himself. Once he had his emotions under control, Owen pulled back.
“Are you okay, baby? Where else are you hurt?”
Sebastian tried to smile, or maybe he was going to speak, but the movement stretched his lip, causing him to flinch.
“Shh… Don’t try to talk if it hurts too much. We’ll get you to a doctor—”
“I… I’m all right,” Sebastian finally whispered, his voice thready. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Sebastian’s right hand gripped Owen’s knee as he wobbled slightly. His voice washoarse but he was speaking, and Owen didn’t think he’d ever heard such sweet words.
Sebastian was wearing the remnants of a short wetsuit—remnants because the garment was torn open up one side, hanging open and exposing more grazes up Sebastian’s torso. An area over his ribs looked like it had been scraped raw.
“Your ribs?”
“Broken, I think,” Sebastian whispered. “Hurts. Hurts to breathe.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
Sebastian smiled despite his lip. “It’s okay. Not too bad. Nothing would’ve stopped that hug.”
Owen had needed that hug too, but it didn’t stop worry from surging through him. “I need to get you comfortable, out of this muck.” Owen looked around the room.Fuck!He couldn’t even lay Sebastian on the bed unless he wanted him lying in damp filth. The place was probably teeming with germs, and with all that raw skin, Owen didn’t want to expose Sebastian to infection, any more than he had been already.
“Can you walk?”Where had he even come from? How far has he walked in this state already?
“I think so.” Sebastian moved slowly to stand and Owen quickly leaned forward to give him a hand.
“Fuck,” Sebastian hissed, and Owen immediately let go of his elbow.
