Page 149 of Finding Storm

I pick my phone up lightning quick.

I look at the screen.

Beck.

I deflate like a balloon.

Of course it’s not Storm.

Why would he be calling me? I haven’t heard from him since he left. And it’s not like anything has changed.

I slide my thumb across the screen, answering it. “What?”

“You really need to work on your phone etiquette.”

“Bite me,” I say.

Beck laughs. I swear, my brother lives to annoy me.

“What do you want, Beck? I’m busy here.”

“Yeah, busy moping around, feeling sorry for yourself, like you have for the last five days.”

“Fuck off. I’m not moping. I’m …” Lying around, feeling sorry for myself.

“You want me to kick his ass?” he says, suddenly sounding serious.

I sigh. “No. He didn’t do anything wrong, Beck. It was just … our lives are in two different places. But it’s nice to know you care.”

“I never said I cared. I said I’d kick his ass.”

That makes me laugh. “What is it you wanted? Apart from annoying me.”

“I need a favor.”

“No,” is my immediate answer.

“Aw, come on, Stevie. It’s just a tow.”

“Then, definitely no.” The last tow I did for him is the reason I’m lying on my bed, feeling like my heart is slowly dying.

“Please. Dad isn’t here, and I’m busy.”

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “For God’s sake, Beck.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Fine,” I huff. “Where am I going?”

“Main Street.”

Pause.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Sorry, Stevie.” He actually sounds apologetic. At least my thickheaded brother realizes this isn’t going to be easy for me. Doing a tow on the very street where I met Storm.

Jesus. Here’s some salt. Rub it in my open, bleeding wound.