Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JACK
It's a disaster.
Saying we were prepared is the understatement of the century.
A tornado ripping through Lakeside, winds howling like something out of a nightmare, rain coming down so hard rivers and lakes are overflowing.
Trees have collapsed across roads, blocking access for ambulances.
I’ve lost count of how many elderly folks I’ve had to carry out of their homes, water rising past their knees.
After hours spent hauling people to safety, checking homes, and making sure no one’s been left behind, the power finally gives out.
Lakeside is plunged into complete darkness, the only light coming from emergency vehicles and the occasional flicker of lightning tearing across the sky.
The rain doesn’t let up, slamming against my face every time I step out of the car.
More firefighters are on our way, but for now, we keep going.
All of us are still moving through the streets, answering every call that comes in.
A pregnant woman was stranded alone in her house, and we got to her just in time.
Families panicking over the rising water, we helped them out and drove them to a gymnasium where we’ve set up an emergency area. Everyone we find, we get to safety.
No casualties so far.
For now.
But the night isn’t over.
And you know the worst of it?
Is that despite running around all day, the only thing churning in my mind has been Alaska.
Is she safe? Does she need help? Jared told me first thing in the morning that his sister had offered her to stay at his family's place, but she had declined it. I didn’t even ask; he just told me, like he knew I needed to know.
My eyelids are closing a bit too much, as I try battling fatigue after a sleepless night of thinking about her, and her lips, her and her long hair, her and her voice, and the way she moves, and how her feminine shapes aren’t that disguised under her sweaters.
I spent the whole night imagining what she would feel like until it made me so insane I had to get up and go to work way sooner than I was called for.
All I know is that her area of Lakeside isn’t flooded.
She’s home.
Safe.
Probably reading. I mean, of course she's reading, no doubt about that. And, if anything had happened, surely I would have known through Jared, right? I thought I could carry on until the power turned off at seven pm. A quick search through our software found her address.
Alaska Jenkins.
49 Willow Bend Road
I reach for my radio.
"Unit 17 to 21."
There's a crackle, then Jared’s voice comes through. "Go for 21."
"I’m heading to Willow Bend, checking on a resident." I pause, a lump in my throat.
"Copy that. Resident’s name?"
"Jenkins."
Another pause, then, "Figured, thought you’d never say,” he chuckles, “you need backup?"
"Negative. Just a welfare check.”
"Keep me posted."
"Will do." I clip the radio back to my vest and tighten my grip on the wheel. The roads are slick, branches scattered across the asphalt, and the wind still hasn’t let up.
I press down on the gas, my heart strangely hammering against my ribs.
She probably doesn't want anything to do with me, but I just need to check on her. I just need to make sure she’s safe.
And then, I’ll breathe again.
Alaska
“No, Dad, I’m good. I’ve just watched another episode,” I tell my father.
We used to watch shows together when I lived at their place, and now, from time to time, we choose a new one and watch it together, even if we don’t live in the same house anymore.
Currently, it’s a western family drama. Not my favorite kind of show, but he likes it, so I watch it with him, too.
“I don’t know, kiddo. The road’s flooded. I don’t like knowing you’re there on your own.”
“Dad, really, I’m okay, alright? I’ve got the generator, and I plugged it in like you showed me,” I assure him, which is true. My dad owns a plumbing company, and since I was old enough to hold a tool, he’s taught me a lot about home maintenance.
“Good, good, but…thank God at least your area isn’t flooded. Here, it’s getting under control, but I heard from the neighbors that the folks living on the north side of town had to evacuate.”
“Really?” I ask, not realizing I’m chewing on my lip. Could it be more serious than I thought? I tried to stay away from local news all day, but the rain has been particularly hard today.
“Thank god we’ve got the generator because it’s pitch black out there.” He sighs. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you need me?”
“I promise, Dad, but it’s all fine, really,” I assure him. The rumble of a car reaches my ears, and I look at the little window near my entryway. Who could it be? Power out, I can deal. But is someone coming to attack me? I’m not equipped.
“Wait, there’s someone coming-”
“What? Who?” he hurries out. I check the window and notice a police car. So definitely not a threat. Perhaps an officer making rounds during the storm.
“All good. It's a police car, I think they’re making rounds.”
“Alright, alright. You stay safe, honey.”
“Yes, Dad. Don’t worry. I have to go. Be safe, okay?” I tell him.
“Night, kiddo. Keep updating us. Love you.”
“Love you, Dad,” I say, closing the call. I fidget on my feet, tiptoeing to get a better view, and through the rain and trees, I notice the blue signs and sirens glowing. My heart goes back to a normal pace before starting to thump again.
Could Jack be in this car?
I run a hand along the side of my hair and take a deep breath, footsteps echoing on my porch, and a strong knock blasts near me, making me jump.
“Alaska?” Jack’s voice shouts, concealed by the sound of wind and harsh rain.
“It’s Jack, I’m—” he pauses, “is everything okay?” he asks again, knocking twice, hard.
My belly makes a double spin, and without thinking twice about it, I open the door in my white and pink heart PJs.
He drinks me from head to toe in a second, his lips parted.
Without a word, I wave him in. He removes his navy cap as he steps inside.
His clothes are drenched, and he looks like a man who hasn’t slept in days.
A few candles and two small lamps are lit in my living room, the air warm and smelling of vanilla muffins.
I turn red when I realize that I’m not wearing any makeup or anything under my shirt and cotton pants.
Thank God there’s not more light in here.
He’s standing in my entryway, his clothes dripping on my wood floor, studying me like he’s searching for any kind of injury.
Out of breath, he asks, “I...I just wanted t-to check if you were alright.” He swallows, his gaze burning me like lava. He came to check on…me?
“You came even after—” I try to say, remembering the time I came to the police station.
“Yeah,” he breathes out like a murmur. “I-I, uh, I don’t have much time,” he pauses, “just needed to check if, um,” he clears his throat, “you need anything, c-c-call me. I’ll be making rounds all night, I c-can write my num-number if you have a p-piece of p-p-paper, I think I g-got one in there, wait—”
“Jack?”
“We had s-so many folks to evac-cu-cuate up north. A pregnant lady who was panicking hard, I-I-I have no idea when we’ll get b-backup—”
“Jack,” I call him, his gaze drifting to my large window in the living room, the forest unleashed, thrashing its branches against the glass.
“And wh-who knew l-l-lakes could overflow, uh? I tell you, we don’t have that in M-Minneapolis.
Two-two boats landed on the highway, it’s a f-f-fucking mess and—” Without interrupting him, I take his hand, pulling him gently to my living room.
I sit on my soft sofa, tugging on his hand until he’s seated next to me.
He follows me without asking, trusting me.
Running a hand down his face, fatigue and worry painted on every pore of his handsome, perfect skin, he grunts, “S-s-sorry, I didn’t want to-”
Without saying a word, I kneel on the sofa, my feet tucked under my thighs, my whole body turned toward him, hoping my shirt will conceal the shapes beneath it.
And for no other reason but instinct, I do something I never thought I could.
I rest my palms on both sides of his face.
He doesn’t stop me, nor ask me what I’m doing.
But he stopped talking. Like the storm inside his head has taken a rest, just for a second.
I take a deep breath, my heart quickening from the courage it’s taken me to touch him.
I lean in, hesitantly, resting my forehead against his, breathing each other's air like it’s our only oxygen.
He exhales.
I inhale.
We stay like this for two minutes, the rumble of trees as our only companion. My thumbs run mindlessly along his face, making small circles on his temples, while I listen to his breathing getting back to a normal pace.
He inhales deeply. “How d-did you learn… How did you know…I n-n-needed that?” he murmurs, his mouth so close to mine I sense the scent of mint coming off it and bite my lips to stop myself from indulging in it.
Boys I’ve kissed. But a man like Jack… A man like Jack would ruin any kiss for me forever.
“I don’t know… I’ve never done that,” I admit. “Instinct,” I murmur back, and he lets out a rough chuckle, his calloused palms covering mine and lacing his fingers above my scars. The usual cold I feel from anything touching them eases away, as Jack’s hands slowly take them in his huge palms.
Then he does the thing I never thought anyone would ever do.
Jack