SoIran through the torrent and slipped back into the safety of my house.
But the momentIset foot inside, it was the same song and dance.
Jack filled my every sense.Hisshoes were just inside my door.Hist-shirts were in my drawers.Hisprotein powder was on the kitchen counter.
When had my house become ours?
The house wasn’t even mine.Ihad to stop calling it that.Itwasn’t and it never would be.
Instead of tinkering with little things on the to-do list, or combing through my manuscript to clean up errors and plot holes,Iclimbed into the widow’s watch and sat, hugging my knees to my chest.
The whip of rain against my face grounded me to reality instead of letting the gloom carry me away on the gales.Rainpuddled beneath me, soIstood and gripped the railing.
For once,Ifelt like bothAuroraArcherandAuroraWhitlock—staring down a storm from the peak of her castle.
It wasn’t mine.Itwasn’t mine.
While everyone was enjoying a rainy day inside,Icouldn’t be bothered to take shelter.Realitywas a tough pill to swallow, andJackwasn’t making it any easier.Ihad felt numb ever since that email with the offer had appeared.Beingconsumed by the flippant attitude of the universe was the only thing that made me feel anything.
Letting the wind fill my lungs was easier than breathing on my own because he had made that impossible.
My hair stood on end as a prickling buzz flooded my skin.Thesky cracked like a whip as a bolt of lightning stabbed the beach like a sword.Theflash was so bright and the explosion was so loud that it nearly knocked me on my ass.
“Holy shit,”Iwhispered asIwiped the raindrops from my face.
The prickle was back, making the hairs on my arm dance.Ihurried inside and yanked the glass doors closed just in time to see the strike from the safety of the house.Thedownpour was muffled, but the thunderous unrest was still clear as day as it shook the house.
I wanted to run out there.Iwanted to sprint onto the beach and get as close asIcould.Itwas exhilarating to watch.Absolutelyunreal.
I was fascinated, butIwasn’t stupid.Igrabbed a pen and my plotting notebook and dipped into one of the upstairs bedrooms that had a window with a clear view of the charcoal clouds clashing over the ocean.Mydamp wrist soaked the paper asIscribbled down notions of every sense that was heightened as the glory and gravity of how smallIwas rained down around me.
Sonder.
Two more lightning strikes shook the house, rattling the sparse furniture in the bedrooms on the second floor.Thegirls had been gracious enough to suffer through air mattresses again since there was no use in replacing the bed mattresses for a house that wasn’t mine.Asharp draft made the door slam on its own, thenBOOM.
“Jesus,”Ihissed asIcovered my ears and crouched forward.Itsounded like a bomb had exploded over the house.
I clutched my notebook to my chest as another earth-shattering explosion, followed by a brilliant flash of light, made the earth below me quake.
The acrid tinge of smoke began to prick at my nose.
Did lightning smell like smoke?Didit smell like anything at all?
Something metal rattled as it rolled across the pitched roof.Ipeered out the window and watched the weather vane fall with a clatter.
Shit.
The storm currently fucking the coast wasn’t a hurricane, but damn, did it seem like one.Thenagain, we didn’t have hurricanes inColorado.WhatdidIknow?
Worry warred in my gut at the thought ofJackout in the mess.Theywere safe, right?Thiswas a normal day at the office for him.
I tried to convince myself that he was probably just hanging out in the rec room at the station, waiting for a cat to get stuck in a tree, butIcouldn’t get that nauseating acid to settle in my stomach.
Another ear-shattering explosion shook the house as lightning cracked like an electrified whip.Thatone sounded like it was right on top of the roof.Ididn’t even see the lance hit the beach.
The smell of chlorine and pennies permeated the house, but it was quickly overpowered by burning plastic and charcoal.
Something wasn’t right.
