Chapter 52
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Noah lay in bed and stared aimlessly out the window. The wind was treacherous. For all he knew, his woodshed would be blown into the next county by the damn hurricane.
He made it a point to never wallow in bed. It was unproductive, self-indulgent. But when his sheets still smelled like Cassie’s lotion and she was packing up boxes next door, a little wallowing was allowed.
Nothing mattered anymore. He’d lost the only girl he ever truly loved. And it was his fault.
He couldn’t let go of his fears. His fixation on Bobby’s death had led him down a path of destruction. The sense of responsibility had weighed down on him like an anchor for the last three years.
He had only wanted to keep everyone safe.
If he couldn’t save Bobby when it mattered the most, what would happen when someone else in his life was in danger?
By holding them all at a distance, he thought he could never let anyone down again.
But instead, Cassie was right. In his misguided bid to keep everyone safe, he had hurt and alienated everyone in his life, letting them all down.
It wasn’t supposed to hurt them too. The punishment was supposed to be his own.
Bobby wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want to see the look on Gloria’s face when Noah woke up on her couch, out of control in his own grief. He’d have shot Noah with a NERF dart if he witnessed him sabotage a relationship with a caring, beautiful woman.
“Noah, what the hell are you doing, dumbass?” He could hear it as clearly as if Bobby was still here, playing Call of Duty next to him on the couch.
He knew Bobby almost as well as he knew himself. Bobby wouldn’t want this. So why was he determined to live a stoic existence in memory of someone who would hate it?
“Fuck,” he called out to his empty room.
He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his eyes. What was he going to do about it? He needed to go on some kind of apology tour. Maybe he should rent an event space. Throw a Sorry-for-Being-an-Asshole barbecue.
The house creaked against the ferocious winds, and he looked outside again.
He should check on his tenants. That would be a good place to start.
Carolyn was a Category 3, and there was bound to be damage to his properties.
He needed to check on Miss Agnes on Main Street.
Her kids lived in a different state, and she was all alone.
Not all of the properties had generators, and—
His thoughts were interrupted by an almighty crash. He jumped out of his skin and ran to the window.
“Oh my god.”
One of the trees that surrounded Cassie’s house had fallen and crashed through her roof…landing exactly where her bedroom was.
He ran downstairs and outside, heart pounding in his chest.
What if she was hurt?
What if she was dead?
“Cassie,” he yelled. He hammered on her front door, but there was only silence.
He checked the driveway. Her car wasn’t there. For a moment, he relaxed.
“Shit. Taco.”
He felt around the molding above the doorway, searching for a key. There had to be a way into this house. He would scale the fallen tree if he had to.
And where in the hell had she gone in the middle of a hurricane? It was insanely dangerous.
He was wasting time. He turned around and donkey kicked the door. It groaned but didn’t move.
He kicked again and again, until the frame splintered and the door swung open.
“Taco?” he ran into the house.
Holy shit. The ceiling in the kitchen had caved in, littering the floor with insulation. He searched every room on the bottom floor. Taco would be scared, hiding somewhere.
He even sifted through some of the insulation until the house groaned under the weight of the tree.
He pulled out his phone and called Lyra.
“Hey. Everything okay?” she sounded surprised to hear from him.
There was no time for niceties. “Do you know where Cassie is?”
“She just dropped Taco off with me. She’s stopping at the clinic, and then she needs to go to Ocean City. A pod of dolphins got stranded, and she’s somehow the only vet on this side of the Bridge who can help.”
Relief hit for a moment before fear gripped his chest. Cassie was going to the beach. During a hurricane.
“Taco’s with you?” he clarified through numb lips.
“Yeah. What’s wrong?”
Thank god they were both safe. His heart rate dropped slightly.
“A tree fell through her roof.”
“What?” she asked sharply.
“I have to go,” he said, and hung up.
Noah hadn’t been able to face the ocean since that day. But he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.
He ran out of the house, only stopping long enough to put on some clothes. He turned his truck toward the clinic and peeled out of his driveway.