The Fear of Letting Go

by Sarra Cannon

  Jenna calls my name, and I turn and run. We've been making our way through the woods for half an hour, spreading out just far enough that I can still see the light of her flashlight through the trees.

  I run full force, my heart pounding, pRobing she's found the girl.

  When I get to her, her eyes are full of fear and hope. She's pointing to the ground where a little blue shoe is peeking out from the sludge. I don't know whether to be scared or hopeful.

  I reach down and grab the shoe from the mud. “This has to be hers,” I say. “It's about the right size, don't you think? And what else would a shoe be doing out here in the woods?”

  “Do you think she might be close?” she asks. She's out of breath and frantically shines her light all around us. Her hands are shaking.

  “I hope so,” I say. “Come on, let's look around this area.”

  We move faster, fueled by this new discovery. My eyes can't hold to one spot long enough. I feel jittery and anxious. I wonder if we should call out to the others, but if we're on the wrong track, I don't want to stop their search. A shoe could have been lifted from the house and slung over here by the storm.

  Or she might have been wearing it.

  Our lights scan the forest floor all around us. A few feet beside me, Jenna gasps and takes off at a full run.

  The wind roars through the treetops overhead and pine needles fall all around us.

  “Anna,” Jenna cries out.

  My eyes quickly follow her light to a large pine tree about twenty feet away that has fallen over, it's roots ripped from the ground in one large clump.

  In the jumping light as she runs, I catch a glimpse of dark blue denim fabric covered with mud, a pale chubby leg sticking out, lifeless.

  My heart tightens as we run toward the little girl. I cry out for the others as we run, but it's too dark to see anyone from here. We're too deep in the woods now, and the wind is picking up again.

  I get there first and fall to my knees, sliding through the mud and pine straw that coats the ground.

  The child is on her belly, her head tilted to the side. Her eyes are closed.

  I put my hand on her back, sending up a pRober that she's still breathing. Hot tears spring to my eyes as cold rain stings my face.

  “Anna?” I say softly, leaning down close to her. Her back rises against my hand and I let out a sigh of relief. “She's alive,” I say to Jenna.

  She kneels next to me, her hand over her mouth. The little girl's arm is twisted at a terrible, unnatural angle and it's easy to see that it's broken. I'm scared to lift her in case there are other, unseen injuries, but I can't leave her here either. The storm is getting worse and we need to take cover.

  In my pocket, my phone beeps a new alert. I take it out and curse.

  “What?” Jenna asks.

  “Another tornado warning,” I say.

  A warning means one has been spotted in the area. Not good. There's no way I can carry her in this storm all the way back to the farmhouse. By now, that has to be at least half a mile away, if not more. I don't want to risk being out in the middle of the flat field when it hits.

  “What do we do?” Jenna asks. “Can we make it back to the house?”

  “I don't know,” I say. I look around, searching for any place we might take shelter.

  “The tree,” I say, nodding to the downed pine. “Pine trees have very shallow root systems and when they fall, the roots come up with them, usually leaving a hole in the ground. We can take shelter there until this passes. It's better than being out in the middle of the field, and if another tree falls, we'll be safe slightly below ground level.”

  Jenna nods. “Do you think it's okay to lift her?” she asks.

  “We don't have a choice,” I say. In the distance, I hear a sound like a train whistle raging through the wind. “Hear that?” I shout. “We need to take cover. Now. Go over to the tree and make sure there's nothing in that hole,” I say. “If there's debris, clear it out as best you can. I'll get the girl.”

  I slide both my arms under the child's body and lift her as gently as I can. She stirs slightly, moaning as I press her tiny body against my chest. I try to keep her arm as stable as I can against my chest and carry her toward the fallen tree.

  Jenna climbs down and helps me lower the child into the hole. We settle ourselves on either side of her, creating a shield with our bodies, pressed close to the muddy wall of the hole. As the wind whips around us, Jenna holds on to me and we lower our heads over the girl.

  The tornado passes dangerously close. Above our heads, tree branches fly through the air, cracking against the sides of other trees.

  I don't dare look up to see what might be coming. I put my arm over Jenna's head, protecting her from anything flying around. We crouch low in the ground, our bodies soaked completely with red Georgia clay. The night is dark and unforgiving.

  It lasts about five minutes. The five most terrifying minutes of my life.

  Trees move and shake. A few nearby pines topple to the forest floor. The storm is loud and angry, dumping rain, leaves, and pine needles all over us. A limb breaks off a nearby tree and lands on my back, scraping across my neck and arm. I can hardly breathe, clutching tightly to Jenna's hand.

  When it's over, the area grows calm, the rain gone and the wind still.

  Jenna lifts her head, her face streaked with tears and mud. “Is it over?”

  “I think so,” I say. I turn my flashlight back on and shine it around. The forest is a mess of trees and branches, but getting into the hole was a good idea. Other than a few small limbs that landed on us, we are safe and alive.

  “Are you hurt?” I ask Jenna. There is a deep scratch on her neck that is beaded with red blood.

  “I'm fine. It's just a tiny scratch,” she says. “Do you think it's safe to move her now?”

  “Yeah, I think we need to try to get back as soon as possible. She needs medical attention.”

  I pull my phone back out and type out a quick text to Mason. I pRob he and the others were able to find shelter. “We found the girl in the woods. She's alive but hurt. Meet at the house.”

  Together, we lift the girl from the muddy hole. I carry her in both arms, Jenna close by my side as we make our way back through the woods. My phone dings in my pocket and I ask Jenna to get it and check the message.

  “It's Mason,” she says. “He says they are back at the house. Everyone is safe. They're heading our way to help. He says there's doctor at the house.”

  “Thank God,” I say.

  We move as fast as we can without jostling the child too much. Mercifully, she's still unconscious, and hopefully unaware of the pain she's in.

  It takes us twenty minutes to find our way out of the woods and when we do, Mason and Knox are both there at the tree line with a four-wheeler.

  They drive over to us and Knox carefully takes the child from my arms.

  “I think her arm is broken,” I say. I can't help the tears in my eyes as I watch them ride off with her.

  I run a hand across my cheek and let out a deep sigh. I pull Jenna to me, her head resting against my chest as we both cry tears of relief. I kiss her forehead and she puts her hand in mine.

  We walk in silence all the way back to the farmhouse.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jenna

  Mason drives us back to the Fairhope Building, but we're all too exhausted to talk. We stayed at the Powell's house for a little while waiting on news of how Anna was doing. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital here in town, but the doctors say it's a miracle. Other than her broken arm and a few scrapes and bruises, she's going to be fine.

  As exhausted as I am, I don't want to leave Preston, after the night we've had. Something is growing between us, and even though it's unexpected, I don't want to say goodbye.

  But at the same time, I'm terrified. I had decided to stay away from him at all costs, but somehow, fate keeps bringing us back together. It sounds stupid, but it's real. I feel it
deep down in my bones.

  We stand together beside my car, neither of us saying a word. The night air is strangely still and quiet after the storms. The power is still out through most of the town.

  “I'm so glad—”

  “You were really—”

  We speak at the same time, stop, and then laugh. Conversation has been so easy between us the past few days, but now that we're alone again, there's a tension here that wasn't there before. A feeling of things unsaid, like we're standing at a line, trying to decide whether or not to cross it.

  “What were you going to say?” he asks.

  “That you were really great out there tonight,” I say. I swallow, my throat thick with nerves. “You saved her life.”

  “You were the one who found her,” he says.

  “We make a good team, I think.”

  “Yeah, we really do,” he says. His eyes are on my face, but I'm scared to meet his gaze. Afraid if I do, it will all come crashing down and I won't be able to resist these feelings growing inside.

  “I'm just glad she's okay,” he says. “I was so scared, when I saw her lying there, that she was...”

  His voice trails off, but I know what he's feeling. I felt exactly the same way when I caught sight of her small body, lying there so still and lifeless.

  “I can't even think what might have happened if we hadn't found her exactly when we did,” I say.

  “I know this is going to sound strange,” he begins, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. “Maybe even crazy. But there's this feeling that we were meant to find her. That we were meant to be out there, together. Is that weird?”

  I shake my head. “Not at all,” I say. “If we hadn't been stuck together in that elevator or the power hadn't come back on exactly when it did. Or if your mother hadn't been there to tell us about the girl. If any one thing had gone differently, we might not have been there to find her before the second tornado hit,” I say. “How can that be anything other than fate?”

  With that one last word, I finally lift my eyes to his. The moment is electric. Something passes between us that shakes me so deeply, I feel as if I've been knocked off balance. I feel as if I'm falling, losing my grip on reality.

  Can this be real?

  I've never been one to believe in fate or wildly romantic notions of love or soul mates, but for a single moment, that's what this feels like. I'm standing here with the most unlikely man in the universe, feeling so drawn to him I can barely keep my feet on the ground.

  Desire flashes in his eyes and he steps forward, lifting a hand to my neck and pressing his body against mine. We stare into each other's eyes, and I know this is the moment of decision. One crazy night on top of a water tower can be explained away as a moment of temporary insanity, but in less than twenty-four hours, our relationship has deepened beyond something casual. I know I should make some excuse, get in my car and drive away as fast as I can. But I have reached the end of my willpower. I can no longer resist whatever's happening between us.

  My hands circle his waist, pulling him closer. He lowers his lips to mine, tugging on the back of my neck.

  Passion releases inside me, the floodgates of all the built-up emotion from this night opening with a vengeance.

  His other arm circles around my back, his hand sliding under the sweater and finding my cold bare skin with his warmth.

  My lips part and we kiss each other hungrily. I want so much more than just the taste of his tongue against mine and the feel of his hands on my skin. I want to explore every inch of his body. I want to feel him inside me.

  But then I remember what I told him in the elevator, and fear brings hesitation. I pull away, turning my head to the side and leaning against the door of my truck.

  “What's wrong?” he asks, breathless, his hands still reaching for me.

  He moves close and leans his forehead against mine as our chests rise and fall together.

  “What are we doing?” I ask. I feel dangerously close to tears.

  “I believe it's called kissing,” he says with a smile.

  I shake my head. “That's not what I mean, and you know it.”

  “Are we back to the conversation about this being complicated?” he asks. “Already?”

  I place my hands on his chest and push him back. I can't breathe with him so close. “Listen, I'm usually the last person in the world to start asking where things are going in a relationship, because I usually don't get this far,” I say. “I like to keep things simple, but with us, it can never be simple. Can't you see that?”

  “Jenna, I'm not some jerk looking to score with you,” he says. “I think we could really have something here. I haven't wanted to be with someone this much in so long, I can't even remember the last time. What is it you're so afraid of?”

  My heart skips a beat and panic rushes through me. “Everything,” I say. “I've let you in on more secrets I never meant to share, in the past week, than with anyone since I moved here. That scares the crap out of me. That stuff I told you in the elevator? That was just the beginning of it. There are so many things you don't want to know about me, Preston, and I'm scared that once you find out, you'll never look at me the same way again.”

  “So, you think I'm just going to judge you on your past and walk away? You think what you told me back there scared me? Well, I'm still here, aren't I? Hearing about your past and everything you've survived just makes me want you more,” he says. He runs a shaky hand through his thick dark hair. “Yes, starting something new is scary. Relationships are risky and messy sometimes, but when you find someone who makes you feel more alive than you ever have before, you don't just walk away.”

  “What kind of relationship could we possibly have?” I ask him. “Your mother already hates me. There's no way your father is going to approve of you dating a girl with a past like mine. I don't fit into your world, Preston. We have to think about that, at least, before we get to the point where someone is going to get hurt.”

  “I'm already there, Jenna,” he says softly. The look in his eyes is pure torture, and I wonder how things got out of hand so quickly. He moves toward me and takes my hands in his. “I don't care what my parents think. And like it or not, you're already a part of my world. This doesn't have to be about the money or the things we've done in the past. I'm not asking you for any kind of commitment. Can't this just be about two people having fun?”

  My eyes snap to his, my heart racing.

  “I'm willing to slow things down if that's what you want. No pressure or expectations, but you need to know that I'm crazy about you,” he says. “I have been for a long time now. And Sunday night? That was one of the best nights of my life. Every time I'm with you, I never want the night to end. And every time it does, I'm counting the hours until I see you again. If you don't feel the same way, tell me now and I'll walk away. But if you feel even half of what I'm feeling right now, I'm asking you to take a chance here.”

  The night grows still and I lose all sense of time and place. I'm terrified of what's happening between us, but I know that if I walk away from this moment, I will regret it for the rest of my life.

  As I stare into his deep brown eyes, something inside me lets go. I allow myself to think of what it would be like to truly let someone into my life. To stop trying so hard to hide behind these walls, and just be myself with someone.

  I reach up and wipe a streak of red mud from his cheek. “Okay,” I say, a flood of excitement and fear washing over me. “But we keep it light. No expectations. No girlfriend and boyfriend. Just fun times until graduation.”

  “Deal.” Preston smiles, and gathers me into his arms. He swings me around, and when he sets my feet back on the ground, we're both laughing.

  “Now, come on,” I say. “Let's go find some place to wash all this mud off.”

  **

  “Where are we headed?” Preston asks.

  “That depends on whether you have any food at your place,” I say. “I'm starving. We never g
ot to eat dinner.”

  “There's nothing at my apartment,” he says. “And with the power out, we're going to be taking cold showers. Unless...”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Unless what?”

  “Unless you want to go to my parents' house,” he says, making a face.

  I shake my head. “No way. I do not want to have to face your mother for the second time tonight.”

  “It's not as bad as it sounds,” he says. “Plus, there's food and a generator powerful enough to keep the whole estate running for days. I swear, you'll never even see her. My parents are already fast asleep, trust me. We'll get you settled in the pool house, and I'll go forage for food in the main house.”

  I hesitate. A hot shower sounds much better than a cold one, but I don't want to risk running into his parents.

  “There's a hot tub,” he says.

  I sigh. “Okay, I'm sold,” I say. “But any sign of your parents, and I'm leaving.”

  “Fine, but there won't be.” He motions to his Escalade. “Get in. We can just leave your truck here and come back and get it in the morning.”

  “Uh uh,” I say, shaking my head. “I may be willing to take a chance on us, but that doesn't mean I'm ready for the whole town to be talking about us shacking up together after the big tornado. Why don't you follow me back to my apartment and we'll go from there?”

  He laughs. “Fair enough.”

  He follows me a few miles back to my apartment and as I drive, I'm shocked at the damage throughout town. Trees around the courthouse are blown over and lying across the sidewalk. A child's tricycle is overturned, hanging out into the street. Garbage cans have toppled over, their contents scattered through people's yards. At least most of the mess is going to be easy to clean up, but my heart goes out to the families outside of town, like the Powells and the Wilkes, whose homes have been destroyed.

  I have to work tomorrow night, but maybe Preston and I can see if there's anything we can do to help during the day.

  When we get to my apartment, I run up and stuff a change of clothes into my backpack before heading back down to his car. By the time we get to his parents' house, my imagination has kicked into overdrive. Hot showers. A hot tub. What exactly have I gotten myself into? And just how far are we planning to go?