Page 106 of Anchored to the Storm

Along the walls of this room were familiar duffle bags and backpacks. There were even some stuffed black garbage bags. We had slept while others had grabbed as many of our belongings from Dale and Harmony’s as they could.

A wave of grief slithered through me, wanting to take control of my emotions, except my heart rejected it. The call insisted time was of the essence.

After glancing at Ethan, I tiptoed out of the room, my bare toes careful not to cause the wood under the balls of my feet to squeak. Right outside the bedroom door, there was a low ceiling and more bags of our belongings. To my right was a little bathroom, decorated the same as the bedroom. Lace, pink walls….

I kept tiptoeing to answer the mystical summons.

Once clear of the low ceiling, I realized it was a loft over my head. Walking past stairs, my hand grazed the worn wood. The little bit that I had just seen was half the house. The other half was one room, consisting of a little living room and a petite dining area.

Another wave of sadness tried to take hold as I realized how accustomed I had become to Harmony’s table, large enough to seat an army. I guess it did.

In a corner to my right, at the back of the house, was a kitchen I couldn’t get inside of completely. But there was a pass-through window with two stools on the outside. It looked like food was passed through from one person to another.

Taking up the living and dining room areas, there were two mattresses and stations for personal belongings like more bags of clothes, big boots, and phone chargers.

I grabbed my chest. These bikers had been here for some time. Not that any of the men who lived here were in their beds. Foster kids were sleeping safely. Finn had a bed. Gage was sprawled on another. Sebastian was on a floor of couch pillows next to Bluebell, snuggled on a floral loveseat.

Aw. I circled in place, finally realizing where I was. Noma, so nice to finally meet you.

No Johnny or bikers in sight, I quietly went out the front door, sensing it was where I needed to be.

Four big men, standing under a tree in the front yard, turned to face me. The misery on their faces made the pit in my stomach ache. Then, in unison, they all looked toward the yard at the side of the house.

Understanding, I stepped off the tiny set of stairs and crossed the front yard.

As I passed the men, Styx said, “I’m sorry. We had to. To protect you all.”

The bearded man, who made me think of Kristen’s kiss, motioned next to his chest as if telling me to take a deep breath.

The star-dancing tears in all their eyes told me that breath was needed for strength.

Visibly, I inhaled deeply and prepared myself for yet another heartbreaking sight.

Turning the corner of the house, there was a shed with open doors. It was very dark inside, even with the sunrise offering a slight glow, but I could hear movement, so I slowly got closer. As I did, I realized there was a carefully wrapped body next to it. On the ground, a blue blanket surrounded the tightly tucked form. On top of this deceased person was a freshly plucked bouquet of flowers.

I covered my mouth to muffle a cry.

It was the flowers we had planted… Oh, my Caleb.

To protect us all, he had been removed. Had he been found by police, buried in the backyard, the risk was too high that we would all face charges of some sort.

Deep inhale…

Tears streaming like a river needing to find her ocean, I lifted my chin and kept stepping forward. The closer I got, the clearer it became that Johnny was in there. He was sitting on a chair, his back to me, his black sweatshirt damp with sweat. Hunched over, as if lacking the strength to sit up straight, he rested his left elbow on his left knee. His right arm kept rearing back, then shoving forward.

Every time he did this, there were sounds I will never forget. They were wet. They… sloshed and sucked. So much blood pooled at Johnny’s feet that my imagination went wild.

I had to stop my mind from seeing anything but a friend in need, so behind him, I closed my eyes, took another strengthening inhale, and then I squared my shoulders.

To love someone meant to love all of that person. Even his feral side.

Opening my eyes, I took the last step forward and placed a hand on his left shoulder. I whispered, “My turn to give you the time needed.”

Johnny’s right arm stopped moving, but a dark voice told me, “This man stole from me.”

Softly, I agreed, “He did.”

“He almost stole you,” he growled.