Chapter 10 #2
Nina glanced up from her seemingly endless checklist, pen poised in midair. "Still at the clinic. She's still seeing patients on an emergency basis, trying to clear as many cases as possible before we have to shut down regular operations."
My hands tightened involuntarily on the box I was carrying, knuckles going white as my mind immediately shifted gears.
The timeline in my head had seemed manageable when we started—three hours had seemed like plenty of time.
Now, with the darkening sky visible through the high windows and the strengthening winds audible even inside the building, that buffer was evaporating fast.
I should stay here. I knew that. The community center needed every available hand, and I had my orders from Commander Hayes.
But my mind kept circling back to our last real conversation, the look on Gabi's face when I'd told her why I was really here on the island.
The way she'd disappeared into her work afterward without another word, professional distance replacing the easy warmth we'd shared.
"LaRue!" McNamara's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade. "Need those supplies over at station four."
I forced myself to focus on the immediate task, carrying boxes and setting up equipment even as part of my brain calculated distances and drive times.
How long would it take to reach the clinic from here?
How much time did we actually have before the roads became impassable?
Whether I had any right to go after her at all, given how things had been left between us.
The wind howled against the building's metal roof with increasing intensity, and the emergency lights flickered once, twice—a warning of things to come. Through the windows, I could see palmetto trees bending at impossible angles, their fronds whipping through the air like green flags of surrender.
The radio at my hip crackled to life with a burst of static. "LaRue, come in."
I fumbled for the device, nearly dropping the medical supplies I'd been sorting. "Go ahead."
"It's Rawlings." The voice was tight with stress, competing with wind noise in the background. "Need you at the marina ASAP. Got multiple vessels breaking loose from their moorings—it's turning into a real shitshow down here."
Damn it. I glanced toward the community center's entrance, still hoping against hope that Gabi might appear through those doors. The past hour had crawled by with no sign of her, despite my constant scanning of every new arrival.
"Copy that. On my way."
Tank clapped me on the shoulder with one of his massive hands, the gesture somehow both reassuring and dismissive. "I got this covered here. Go do what you gotta do."
I jogged through the strengthening wind toward the loaner truck from the fire department, feeling the weather trying to knock me sideways with each gust. The sky had turned an ugly shade of green-black that reminded me of old bruises, and the air felt thick enough to chew.
My hands clenched the steering wheel as I navigated the nearly empty streets, debris already starting to accumulate in the gutters.
The clinic's lights glowed like a beacon in the growing darkness as I passed, warm yellow squares cutting through the gloom.
The angle was wrong for me to see past the landscaping to the employee lot at the back where Gabi would be parked.
I fought the overwhelming urge to pull over, to just take two minutes to make sure she was there and safe.
But people's lives and livelihoods were literally at stake at the marina—boats worth hundreds of thousands of dollars breaking free to smash into docks and other vessels.
I couldn't justify a detour for personal reasons, no matter how much every instinct screamed at me to check on her.
Besides, where else would she be? She'd said yesterday she intended to ride out the storm at the clinic, and Dr. Gabriella Carrera always did exactly what she said she would do.
The radio squawked again, urgent static preceding the voice. "LaRue, what's your ETA? We're losing boats faster than we can secure them."
"Two minutes out." I pressed the accelerator harder, the truck's engine straining against the headwind as I left the clinic's comforting lights behind in my rearview mirror.
The wind buffeted the vehicle like invisible hands trying to push me off course, and debris skittered across the road in deadly patterns—palm fronds, pieces of siding, things I couldn't identify in the growing darkness.
I had to trust she knew what she was doing.
That she had an evacuation plan if everything went south.
That someone else was looking out for her safety while I dealt with my own responsibilities.
Dr. Carrera was nothing if not prepared, organized, and competent.
She didn't need me riding to her rescue like some kind of knight in Coast Guard fatigues.
But as I turned toward the marina, tires fighting for traction on the increasingly slick road, all I could think about was how I'd failed to look out for her before.
How I'd let my career advancement pull me away from her without even discussing it, without giving her a chance to weigh in on decisions that affected both of us.
And now here I was again, driving in the opposite direction when every fiber of my being screamed at me to turn around, to make sure she was safe before worrying about anyone or anything else.
The marina came into view through the windshield, and I could see the chaos even from a distance—boats tilting at crazy angles, lines snapping in the wind, people running between the docks in what looked like barely controlled panic.
My duty was clear, my training kicking in automatically.
But my heart remained stubbornly focused on a small clinic growing smaller in my mirrors, and the woman I'd never stopped loving who was still there, still working, still putting everyone else's needs before her own safety.