Turner's phone beeped, then turned to a long, loud warning signal. He grabbed it quickly; protocol demanded he evaluate every warning to come through. “I'm sorry. I need to check this weather warning. Duty calls.”
“No, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have taken up your time. I need to...” She stood, giving a look around. One that told him she was overwhelmed and confused. And…disappointed in him. She’d lost her hope. Because of him. That stung. “I honestly don’t know what I expected to happen here. I knew it was a long shot, but Mel and Jillian were insistent I talk to you. They said you might be able to help. Mel…”
Mel. His cousin’s wife was family. And if he couldn’t help with this, it wasn’t just Annie he had let down.
Barratts did what they could for family, after all.
“Just give me a minute, Annie. Let me see what this notice is about, then you and I can sit down. Try to find a solution together.” He’d never been a quitter. He was a Barratt. He had to try at least one more time. “You know the people involved much better than I ever could. Maybe you'll find a way that I can't see. At the least, I can call Powell, and we can ask her any legal questions you might have. I’ll play the family discount card. She owes me several favors.”
It wasn’t just that.
He didn't want her to go. He wasn't ready to let her disappear. Not until he figured out what it was about her that had his gut tightening and his hands shaking with the urge to touch her.
Instant lust had never hit him like this before. Especially for a woman in hospital scrubs and a disheveled ponytail.
His phone shrilled again, just as a siren sounded overhead. A long siren that made it hard to hear. The emergency sirens were attached to the fire station on the north side of the city, and on the TSP building near the south side of the city.
They were designed to make certain no one missed what was coming. Turner bit back the curse at what it meant.
He’d never hated weather warnings before; mostly, he’d just taken necessary precautions and then ignored everything—often working away on his laptop until the warnings were over.
But that was before he’d become the public face of a city of fifty-seven thousand people. He might not freak from storms, but there were plenty of people he was responsible for that would.
It was his job to help them prepare and keep them calm until this threat had passed.
Severe weather was coming to his city. That meant he had to be ready for anything. But first...He wasn’t letting her go just yet. The weather was as good an excuse as any. “Come on. We need to get downstairs to the basement. We can talk down there. Come up with some sort of solution. The last thing I want to do is evict someone’s great-grandma.”
The sirens echoed around the room.
“What is it?” She almost had to shout for him to hear her.
“Tornado warning. We need to get downstairs.” There shouldn't be anyone else in the building this late in the day, except security.
He wrapped one hand around hers, and she let him. He wasn’t afraid of tornadoes and storms—he knew the statistics—but he wasn’t going to let her go out into one right now. He could at least do this little thing to keep her safe.
“I need to call my family. Make certain they’re safe.” Big blue eyes showed worry and fear. She darted a glance toward the window.
Turner’s gaze dropped to her left hand where he held it. No ring, at least. And no tan line where one had been. She wasn’t married. That was good. Very good.
She had her phone in her right hand. Hail slammed into the windows, echoing through the hall. She wouldn’t be able to hear on the phone now. Turner pulled her closer.
“Do that once we’re downstairs. That's hail on the roof. And it sounds big. Downstairs, hurry.”
They didn't speak as he led the way toward the storage room in the basement that had been used as a tornado shelter since the beginning of his tenure as mayor. It was on the opposite end of the city hall building from the security office.
Standard procedure would have the two security guards on duty checking each office, then hurrying down to their department as soon as possible. Essentially, he and Annie would be alone in the basement until the all-clear was given. However long that would be.
Turner was a master strategist. Being in a dark basement with a woman he found extremely attractive could never be a bad thing, in his opinion.
He’d use that time as wisely as he possibly could. Even if just by trying to save her neighborhood.
Something slammed into the side of the old brick building.
The walls rattled clear down to their studs. Wind roared overhead. Glass shattered in the hall window. It sounded like a train, full-steam, was shrieking just overhead.
Ok, now he was starting to get serious. His phone rang in his hand, but he didn’t bother even trying to answer it.
He yanked on her arm, moving her more quickly when she hesitated. “Go! Downstairs!”
He had to shout over the sounds of the wind.
They had maybe fifty feet left to go when the remaining windows shattered in the hall around them.
He ran faster. The roaring got louder.
The power went out. Annie screamed. Talking was impossible. A long crack of thunder followed by a wailing unlike any he’d ever heard before echoed around them. It sounded like a damned banshee. None of that train business, it sounded like a soul-stealing banshee out there now.
Turner cursed and practically lifted Annie into his arms.
He'd lived in Texas long enough to know what it meant. This wasn’t exactly his first tornado rodeo.
They were about to be hit. Hard.
Turner had been in the center of a tornado before. When he’d been twelve, and his cousins Houghton and Clay had both been a few years or so older. They’d been outside on the ranch when it had rolled up on them. Houghton had rushed them into a nearby barn. The barn had lost part of its roof with them in there. Clay had covered Turner’s head with his own arms at the last minute.
Clay had ended up with a broken arm, Turner a concussion. Houghton had had thirteen roofing nails embedded in his back.
Not something he really wanted to repeat.
They were almost at the basement door.
He yanked Annie even closer.
Turner lurched toward the basement door, one arm over her head protectively.
If they fell, they fell. But at least they'd be below ground.
Her arms tightened around him somehow. Turner wasn't about to let her go. A force slammed into him. Turner thought he’d never breathe again.
He hit the floor just outside the stairwell. The building shook apart around them.
And then the world imploded around them.
He only had one thought.
They hadn’t made it in time—and it was all his fault…
Also by Calle J. Brookes
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
* * *
PAVAD: FBI ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
* * *
Beginning (Prequel 1)
Waiting (Prequel 2)
* * *
Watching
Wanting
Second Chances
Hunting
Running
Redeeming
Revealing
Stalking
Ghosting
Burning
Gathering
Falling
Hiding
Seeking
* * *
FINLEY CREEK SERIES
* * *
TRILOGY ONE (TEXAS STATE POLICE)
* * *
Her Best Friend’s Keeper
Shelter from the Storm
The Price of Silence
* * *
TRILOGY TWO (FINLEY CREEK GENERAL)
* * *
If the Dark Wins
Wounds That Won’t Heal
Hope for Finley Creek (bonus novella)
As the Night Ends
* * *
&n
bsp; TRILOGY THREE (FINLEY CREEK DISASTER)
* * *
Before the Rain Breaks
Lost in the Wind
Walk Through the Fire
* * *
MASTERSON COUNTY NOVELLA SERIES
* * *
Seeking the Sheriff
Discovering the Doctor
Ruining the Rancher
Denying the Devil
* * *
SMALL-TOWN SHERIFFS
Holding the Truth
* * *
SUSPENSE/THRILLER
* * *
PAVAD: FBI CASE FILES
* * *
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0001
“Knocked Out”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0002
“Knocked Down”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0003
“Knocked Around”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0004
“White Out”
PAVAD: FBI Case Files #0005
“Buried Secrets”
* * *
Calle has several free reads available at
www.CalleJBrookesReads.com
* * *
For my grandfather, the best man I have ever known.
You will be missed.
Oct. 2015
* * *
For my grandmother, who gave me the courage to try. Without you and your love of romance, I never would have made it this far.
Feb. 2016
* * *
For my papaw, whose children loved him deeply, and will always miss him.
Oct. 2017
* * *
Calle J. Brookes enjoys crafting paranormal romance and romantic suspense. She reads almost every genre except horror. She spends most of her time juggling family life and writing while reminding herself that she can’t spend all of her time in the worlds found within books. CJ loves to be contacted by her readers via email and at www.CalleJBrookes.com. When not at home writing stories of adventure and wrangling with two border collies and a beagle puppy, CJ is off in her RV somewhere exploring the beautiful world we live in, along with her husband of she can’t remember how many years and their child.
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Lost in the Wind Page 34
