30. Sadie
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sadie
The storm hadn’t just arrived.
It had consumed the town.
Lightning split the sky in violent bursts, illuminating the rain-soaked streets in eerie flashes. Thunder cracked like gunfire, shaking the very bones of The Foundry. Wind howled through the gaps in the old brick, rattling the windows, making the darkness feel alive.
Then… silence. A brief, breathless pause.
And then, the power cut out.
The emergency lights flickered to life, casting long, wavering shadows across the floor. Lightning flashed again, its jagged light slicing through the windows.
I barely noticed. My pulse was still hammering, my breath unsteady from what had just happened outside.
From him.
Samuel had caught me. Held me. His heat still lingered, a phantom imprint against my skin.
His grip had been unyielding, his body a fortress against the storm, against everything.
Then, the door slammed open.
I gasped, whirling just as Adam and Kai burst in, rain-drenched and wild-eyed, their chests heaving like they’d just sprinted through hell.
“Jesus,” Adam swore, shoving the door closed behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.
His soaked shirt clung to every muscle, his jaw clenched tight with something dangerously close to panic. His gaze snapped to me, sharp and searching.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” I managed, but the word barely made it past the fresh shiver racking my body.
Kai didn’t speak. He moved.
One second, he was dripping rainwater by the door. The next, he was on me. His hands—big, warm, possessive—slid over my arms, my waist, my face.
A quick, thorough check, like he needed proof that I was okay. That I was whole.
I barely had time to breathe before Samuel was at my other side, a solid, grounding force.
“You’re freezing,” Kai muttered, grabbing a hoodie he must have left on the counter earlier.
He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even give me a second to protest, before tugging it over my head, pulling my arms through the sleeves, adjusting it just right.
The second the fabric wrapped around me, I sucked in a breath.
Samuel let out a low, approving sound. “Good. Now sit before you fall over.”
“I’m fine,” I tried to argue, until my knees wobbled. Betrayed me.
Adam huffed. “Yeah, sure you are.”
And before I could blink, before I could protest, he scooped me up and took me to their loft.
I let out a startled sound, an indignant, breathless squawk, as my hands instinctively latched onto his shoulders. “Adam!”
“Shh,” he scolded, but there was a grin there. Just a little. Just enough to make my stomach flip.
He carried me like I weighed nothing, like I belonged there, setting me down on the leather couch near the fireplace.
“Let us take care of you, sugar.”
My breath hitched.
Because when I looked up, they were all watching me.
Samuel, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression tight, stormy.
Kai, crouched in front of me, pulling a blanket from the couch and tucking it around my shoulders.
Adam, settling beside me, one arm stretched lazily over the back of the couch, like he was getting comfortable. Like this was normal.
Like we weren’t trapped in here in the middle of a raging storm, lightning cracking, tension coiling thick between us.
I swallowed hard. “So, uh… we’re stuck here?”
“For a while,” Samuel confirmed, his voice low, unreadable. His gaze flicked to the windows, assessing, always calculating. “Too dangerous to go back out.”
A fresh bolt of lightning flashed, followed by a deep, rolling boom of thunder.
I flinched. Kai noticed.
He shifted closer, his knee brushing mine. “You don’t like storms?”
“No, not so much,” I admitted, my fingers curling tighter into the borrowed hoodie.
Silence.
Samuel’s brow furrowed. Adam’s fingers drummed against the couch.
Then he smirked. “Then we’ll make it better.”
I blinked. “How?”
Kai’s lips curled. “By distracting you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That sounds suspicious.”
Adam’s grin turned wicked. “Good. That means it’s working. Let's see, what's the best way to get your mind off the storm?”
Yes, the storm still raged outside, but in here, with them, I wasn’t so scared.
Warmth slowly seeped back into my bones. Not just from Kai’s hoodie or the warm blanket wrapped around me. Not just from the fire crackling softly in the hearth.
From them.
Kai, still crouched in front of me, his knee pressing lightly against mine, watching me with quiet, steady focus.
Adam, stretched out beside me on the couch, one arm slung across the back.
Samuel, standing nearby, solid and unshaken, his watchful gaze flicking between the storm and me.
I curled my fingers into Kai’s hoodie, feeling small but safe.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
“Story time,” Adam said at last, clapping his hands together.
Samuel made a sound that was almost a groan. “Adam…”
“No, no, don’t try to stop me. It’s happening.” Adam turned to me with way too much enthusiasm. “Now, sugar, do you want to hear about the time I accidentally set my pants on fire in high school or the time Kai got his ass kicked by a goat?”
Kai sighed dramatically. “You’re really gonna do this?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
Samuel exhaled slowly, like he was bracing himself.
I raised a brow. “I mean… I feel like I have to go with the goat story.”
Adam grinned. “Excellent choice.”
Kai rolled his eyes, but there was a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, fine. But in my defense, that goat was a menace.”
“Sure, buddy,” Adam said, smirking. “A menace. Tell me, how does one lose a fight to a farm animal?”
Kai huffed. “I was five. My mom took me to some rodeo thing, and there was this little petting zoo. Normal, right? Just some goats, a couple of chickens, a sad-looking pony. Nothing exciting. But then there was this one goat. This tiny little asshole with a mean streak a mile wide.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “And what did tiny Kai do to piss it off?”
Samuel shifted, arms crossed, and murmured, “He tried to hug it.”
I snorted. “You did not.”
Kai sighed. “Look, I was five. I thought it was cute. I wanted to be friends. So I went in for a hug, and the little bastard?—”
“—launched him into a hay bale,” Adam finished, grinning. “Like, full on headbutted him into next week.”
I lost it. A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it, my whole body shaking as I doubled over. “Oh my god.”
“Glad my childhood trauma amuses you,” Kai muttered, but he was grinning.
“Wait, wait,” I gasped, wiping at my eyes. “What did you do? Did you cry?”
Kai scoffed. “I did not cry.”
Samuel raised a brow. “You absolutely did. Your mother said so.”
Adam was wheezing. “And then, to make it worse, this old farmer comes over, doesn’t check on Kai, doesn’t make sure he’s okay—he just walks up, looks at the goat, and says, ‘Good job, Buster.’”
I howled. “Stop.”
“You’re lucky that goat didn’t break your ribs,” Samuel said.
“I was small but durable,” Kai said, shrugging. “Still am.”
Adam grinned. “Tell that to the coffee table you tripped over last week.”
I gasped. “You tripped over a coffee table?”
Kai pointed at him. “That was not my fault. That table came out of nowhere.”
Adam waved a hand. “It was in the same place it always is.”
Kai opened his mouth, then shut it, scowling.
I shook my head, my cheeks aching from laughing so hard. “You two are a disaster.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Adam said cheerfully. “But a fun disaster.”
Samuel shifted, exhaling slowly as he leaned against the arm of the couch. The firelight flickered over his face, making him more handsome than he had ever been.
“You two are ridiculous,” he muttered, but his voice lacked any real bite.
Adam grinned. “Yeah, yeah, but you love us.”
Samuel didn’t confirm or deny it. Instead, he let a small, almost reluctant smile tug at his lips before shaking his head.
I watched him carefully. Out of all of them, Samuel was the hardest to read. He didn’t fill silences the way Adam did, didn’t offer easy vulnerability like Kai. He was reserved, always watching.
And right now, something about the way he was watching me made my breath catch.
I tilted my head. “What about you?”
His brow arched. “What about me?”
“You’re not getting out of story time that easily.”
Adam beamed. “Oh, I like where this is going.”
Kai smirked. “Yeah, Samuel. Give us something.”
Samuel sighed, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I don’t think I have anything quite as entertaining as a vengeful goat.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I said. “Come on. Something embarrassing, something funny. We’ve all suffered.” I paused. “Well, they’ve suffered. I’m still winning.”
Kai let out a low laugh. “She’s got a point.”
Samuel studied me for a moment, laughter flickering in his gaze, before he finally spoke.
“When I was twelve,” he said slowly, “I thought I was unstoppable.”
Adam snorted. “This is already good.”
Samuel shot him a look before continuing. “My uncle had this old dirt bike. I had no business riding it. No experience. No clue what the hell I was doing. But I was determined.”
Kai hummed. “This feels like it ends badly.”
“Oh, it does,” Samuel confirmed dryly. “See, I was supposed to be taking it slow, easing into it. But I got cocky. Thought, ‘how hard could it be?’”
I bit my lip, suppressing a smile. “Famous last words.”
Samuel’s mouth twitched. “Exactly. So, I decide I’m gonna go full speed… just send it.”
Adam grinned. “Oh, buddy.”
“Yeah.” Samuel shook his head. “I rev the engine, take off down this dirt path behind my uncle’s house. At first? I feel like a damn king. The wind’s in my face, the bike’s roaring under me. I think I’ve got it. I think I’m winning.”
Kai made a low, knowing sound. “But?”
Samuel sighed. “But then I realize… I don’t know how to stop.”
Adam cackled. “Oh my god.”
I gasped. “Samuel.”
He spread his hands. “I panic. Instead of braking, I accidentally gun it harder.”
I wheezed.
Samuel smirked slightly. “So now, instead of slowing down, I’m barreling toward the biggest goddamn oak tree in the county.”
Kai covered his mouth, shoulders shaking. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” Samuel said. “And in my infinite twelve-year-old wisdom, I decide the only option is to jump.”
Adam howled. “You jumped off a moving bike?”
“Sure did.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying not to die laughing. “What happened?”
Samuel exhaled through his nose. “I flew through the air like a cartoon character, hit the ground so hard I saw stars, and the bike? Went straight into the tree. Totaled.”
Kai was crying. “Jesus Christ.”
Adam wiped at his eyes. “This is the best day of my life.”
I was gasping for air. “Did you break anything?”
Samuel shook his head. “Just my pride.”
Kai groaned, still laughing. “That’s worse.”
Samuel chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. My uncle nearly had a heart attack. He grounded me for a month and made me work in his shop until I ‘developed some common sense.’”
Adam snorted. “Did it work?”
Samuel’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Not even a little.”
I was grinning so hard it hurt. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I almost thought you were the responsible one.”
Samuel tilted his head. “What do you mean almost?”
Kai wiped at his eyes. “I love this.”
Adam clapped a hand on Samuel’s shoulder. “Sammy, you’re officially my favorite person.”
Samuel rolled his eyes, but there was warmth there… in his gaze, in his expression, in the way he looked at me.
And just like that, the storm outside didn’t seem quite so loud.