Chapter 23
Hannah sat near Noah in the helicopter, Brady tucked between them. The boy had been inconsolable after she pulled him from behind the dryer, where she’d hidden him just seconds before the man in black came bounding through the door.
He’d heard the gunshots and feared she was dead, and that reality crushed her heart. She wouldn’t be able to take that memory from him. She could only pray it would become less pronounced with time.
Like the memory of his dad dying on the carpet?
She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. Thank God he’d stayed put and hadn’t seen the blood that covered the living room. She’d shielded his eyes with her hands on their way past.
There was nothing she could do to make any of this better except hold her son tightly and kiss his sweet head, telling him it would all be okay. He seemed to be sleeping now, and she was grateful for that.
The helicopter pitched and Brady squeezed her hand more tightly.
Not sleeping, then. He’d taken hold of her hand in one of his and Noah’s in the other when they’d gotten on board, the moment too tender for her to object or even apologize to Noah for Brady’s behavior.
There was simply the little boy she loved, clinging to the people who were pivotal in his safety.
She couldn’t even allow herself to consider what could have happened if things hadn’t gone their way. Losing Joe had been difficult, but losing Brady was unimaginable.
Her eyes wandered around the cabin. The chopper was enormous inside, far bigger than she would have thought from looking at it, but she wasn’t much for flying and sincerely hoped they’d make it to Atlanta soon.
And where exactly do you think you’re going to stay?
She hated relying on the kindness of strangers, but that was what she’d have to do. She hoped Noah would take them in for the night, but she knew they were likely to need shelter far longer than he might want to provide it.
Atlanta was only four hours’ drive from Hilton Head, and the hotels were likely to be full of evacuees. But it didn’t matter now—she’d stay anywhere if she had to—they were alive and everything else would sort itself out somehow.
She snuck a glance at Noah, his stubbled face now inching closer to an actual beard. Was he happy their time together was coming to an end, or was he reluctant for them to part, like she was?
Don’t be clingy.
It was sex, that’s all. Not even a date or anything that might imply even a temporary commitment. They’d been caught up in the storm and the situation and had done something they would never have done under ordinary circumstances.
Bullshit, Hannah. You would have slept with that man any time.
But would she have? Was he really that attractive, that interesting to her, or was it just the stress and heat of the moment that had captivated her? She and Joe had dated for years before getting married, but she’d known he was the one for her an hour after meeting him.
She didn’t trust her ability to tell right now.
In that moment she wanted so desperately to go home, back to her apartment and the safety she imagined she’d find there, but it was an illusion.
Her haven was gone, the building flooded and the windows shattered.
God only knows what had happened to it since she left.
She felt untethered, as if without that apartment she had no idea where to go or how to provide for her family.
Her son.
It was just the two of them, and she’d do well to remember that.