Chapter 45
Josephine
I wake up to a vibrating phone dancing on the nightstand and all sorts of banging in the kitchen down the hall.
I’m alone.
The lack of companionship was expected, but it doesn’t dull the pain that hits me square in the chest when I remember.
I’m alone, and I’m lonely. It’s nothing new.
I’ve been lonely for most of my life. Yet now it hurts more than it ever has before, because I’ve spent the last few months basking in the attention of four passionate, devoted, borderline-obsessed men.
How can a twin-size bed feel so empty?
Last night was Kendrick’s night, but he was needed elsewhere.
As the sheriff, Mr. Taylor’s working around the clock to prepare the town for a smooth evacuation in light of Tropical Storm Theo, so it was up to K to look after his sisters.
I refused to let Nicky suffer through two nights in a row on this tragically small mattress. He’s doing better, but he’s still not well. Sleeping in his own bed helps, so it wasn’t difficult to convince him.
Kylian, on the other hand, was exhaustingly adamant that I not be alone.
If not for the storm, he would be here. When he checked coverage sometime during the night, he decided it was time to secure a safe place to shelter once we leave Lake Chapel.
His commitment to keeping me safe is the only reason I don’t stress when I read the messages Hunter sent early this morning.
Hunter: Hey girl. Greedy’s pestering me about you and the evacuation. Do you have plans to go with the guys?
Hunter: We’re heading to Dr. Ferguson’s cabin near Beech Mountain. Do you want to come with?
Kylian: I’ll be by to pick you up at ten. Kendrick wants to get on the road before lunch.
Yawning, I type out a reply to Hunter.
Joey: I’m fine. Kylian has a plan. We’re leaving in a few hours. Stay safe!
Hunter: Where are you guys going? Decker’s place in the mountains?
Shit on a crumbly cracker.
I didn’t even bother to ask. I just trusted Kylian to handle it. Surely he doesn’t expect me to cohabitate with the man who broke my heart. The guys can barely stand to be around him on the nights they’re not here. There’s no way they’d willingly push us all back together.
Sam raps his knuckles on the door. “Hey, kiddo,” he says from the other side. “You up?”
“I’m up,” I reply, sitting up in bed.
“Are you alone?”
The words slice through me with such intensity I startle.
I’m alone.
I have three men who love me. Yet we’re all broken and battered. Is there a difference between being alone and being incomplete? Will the crater of loneliness created by the decision Decker forced on our group fill in over time, or will we learn to live with the emptiness?
Gulping past the overwhelming sadness, I shoot for upbeat when I respond. “Yep, just me. Come on in.”
Sam pushes the door open, but he doesn’t step into the room.
The forced smile he wears is far too bright for the circumstances.
“I made breakfast. Hungry? I also wanted to check in about the evacuation orders. I was planning to head to Louisiana this afternoon anyway. You’re welcome to join me.”
My heart warms at his offer. This man has done nothing but support me since the day I arrived in Lake Chapel.
“I have plans,” I assure him. “But thank you.” I gulp past the emotion burning up my esophagus. “It’s nice to know I have this place—and you—to fall back on.”
“Of course, Jojo,” Sam chides, his brow furrowed. “Always. That’s what family is for.”
The ride to the marina is mostly silent. The whole way, Kylian keeps his hand on my thigh, squeezing now and then to assure me.
When we arrive, he angles close and places his hand over the seat belt latch. “Before we get going…” Then his lips are on mine. At first, the kiss is desperate, but as we melt into each other, a peaceful calm washes over us both.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. “But last night was bullshit. I didn’t sleep, and I’m not doing that again.”
Frowning, I pull back and get a good look at him.
His eyes are watery and a little bloodshot, and the lines in his forehead are more defined, as if he’s been deep in thought for hours.
“When this storm is over and we get back to Lake Chapel, things have to change. Either Decker leaves the isle, or we get our own place, or—”
Pressing my lips to his, I nod frantically.
There’s so much to figure out. Logistics.
Finances. So many of the resources we’re all accustomed to are either provided by Decker or are made possible because of him, but I have no doubt that Kylian will find a solution.
Just as I’m certain all three guys will do whatever it takes to move on and get us back on track.
High-pitched squeals catch my attention then. Before us, Jade and Emilia are running circles around Kendrick and Nicky.
A rush of love washes over me, and a smile so big it hurts stretches across my face.
“The girls are going with us?” Quickly, I unbuckle my seat belt and collect my things. I packed enough for three days; Kylian assured me we’d be gone a few nights at most.
“I told you, everyone will be there. Sherriff Taylor has to work. They always come with us when we evacuate.”
Nervous to ask my next question, I worry my lip and scan the marina parking lot. “And by everyone, you mean…”
“He’s not riding with us.” Kylian’s tone is firm, sure.
Dropping my shoulders, I let my head fall forward and close my eyes. That answer is more telling than Kylian realizes.
“He’ll be there, though?”
For a breath, he doesn’t respond. When I pull myself together again and turn to him, he’s inspecting me from behind his glasses.
“Yes. He’ll be there.”
My heart pounds out an anxious rhythm in my chest. “And there is where, exactly?”
These are questions I should have asked earlier. Details I should have considered, even if the outcome would ultimately be the same.
“Decker’s cabin. It’s just beyond Beech Mountain.”
And there it is.
My stomach sinks. Because we’re heading off the grid, running from one storm, straight into the eye of another.
Two clashing, warring tempests, each raging for their own reasons. Neither can be dissuaded by the other, and in the wake of their battle, they’ll leave nothing but a path of destruction.
A reunion between Decker Crusade and me won’t go any other way. I fear I’m not strong enough to survive it.
“How far is the drive?” I whisper. It’s all I can manage.
Kylian’s still taking in my every move, like he’s cataloging them all so he can figure me out.
“He knows to stay out of your way. You won’t have to see him at all if you don’t want.
This was the best option for everyone, though, Jo.
There’s enough room for all of us. The girls are used to the cabin—”
“It’s fine,” I insist. It has to be. “How long is the drive?” I repeat.
“Usually, it’s two hours and thirty-four minutes. But with the whole town evacuating, and given the evacuation reroutes, I expect it to take us three or three and a half hours.”
Three hours.
I developed a raw form of resilience when I had to return to high school after I was raped and filmed without my consent. It’s an armor of sorts, but it adapts on a dime, molding me into the version of myself most fitting for survival in each situation.
There’s no conscious effort involved. The resiliency clicks into place on instinct.
In years past, it often meant donning my bad-bitch, no-shits-given armor. Other times, it served me best to blend in and move through the shadows, remaining unseen.
It took years of therapy to recognize the coping strategy. Even if it’s not a healthy one, it’s undoubtedly useful, especially when confronted with my own personal version of hell. Like now. I’ve got three hours to get my shit together before I have to dwell in the presence of Decker Crusade.