by Kacey Shea
Bailey stands by the door, her expression pained.
The room’s a fucking mess.
“I am so disappointed in you.” I shake my head, not having the time or emotional bandwidth to deal with this.
“Bailey, please take the kittens to my office and stay there until I come get you.” I hand her my keyring. “And please don’t lose these.”
“I won’t,” she whispers, her eyes welling with tears. The poor girl needs a minute to herself.
“Hunter.” I point at the mess of food, the broken table, and the chairs tipped on their sides. “You will clean up all of this.”
“Me?” he cries. “I wasn’t the one who started it. He came after me!” He shoves his finger across the room.
“You’ll clean it up or you can leave,” I threaten, cutting him off from any other arguments. “Tyler, come with me.”
He hangs his head and follows me out of the room and down the hall. I wait until we’re completely out of earshot before I stop walking.
“Tyler, what’s going on?”
“He’s a jerk.”
I know. “Why were you fighting?” I ask him because I think he’s the most likely to give me an honest answer.
Tyler just shrugs.
I inhale a long breath, gathering my patience. I can’t babysit all day. I need this resolved. “Fine. You don’t want to talk? Then you can work.”
His chin lifts with defiance. “I’m not helping him.”
I’m not stupid enough to put these boys in the same room again. “No, you’re going to go outside and find Chase. When you’re ready to let me know what happened in there, come find me. You understand?” I like Tyler. He’s a good kid. But I don’t know how else to deal with this situation. Besides, Chase is always so good with him.
“Whatever.” Tyler shrugs, hanging his head as he walks toward the exit.
“Alicia!” someone calls from across the hall. “They need another hand over at check-in.”
“Yep.” I force a smile. “On it.” But I don’t feel on top of any of this. Nothing has gone right today. The storm might be outside, but my life feels as if it’s falling apart and I’m not sure how I’ll survive.
62
Chase
I can’t believe Alicia thought I was drinking. Damn. Her words cut deeper than they should for a woman who didn’t even stop to make sure I was safe. I spent all morning worrying about her, and she hadn’t even given me a second thought. Our argument puts me in a shit mood the rest of the morning. Charlie and I make several runs over to the storage unit to bring over supplies the center will need, including the boards to seal up the windows. It’s rainy and windy, a gloomy doom that feeds my disposition.
Charlie gets pulled inside on another task, but I stay back to finish boarding the windows. I’m still angry. Hurt. I have no interest in another run-in with Alicia. At least, not until I cool down.
“Hey, can I help?”
I practically jump, not noticing Tyler until he’s only a few feet away. The kid didn’t have a proper rain coat when he showed up this morning, his hoodie soaked through. I suspect he walked over, though it makes me wonder if his mom let him go out in this weather without a jacket. It annoys me that he still doesn’t have one. “I got it, man.”
“Oh.” His shoulders shrug. “Yeah.”
The last thing I need is some kid getting injured or sick on my watch. I try to ignore the hurt look on Tyler’s face. “You don’t wanna be out here. Sucks anyway. Go hang with your friends.”
“Whatever.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Dick.”
“Excuse me?” I set down the board and lean it against the wall. “What did you just say?”
He puffs his chest, as if that scrawny frame is gonna intimidate me. If I weren’t in such a crap mood, I’d give him a hard time about it. “What’s with the punk attitude?”
His scowl deepens. “I don’t need a lecture.”
Wow. What the hell is with him today? “Maybe you do.”
“You’re not my fucking dad!” he shouts, shocking us both. “Whatever.” He shakes his head and turns. “I’m going.” His head lowers as he shrinks back into his hoodie.
I should call him back. At the very least, get to the bottom of what’s got him in such a shit mood. But I don’t have a lot of time, and I’ve already wasted enough. I glance back once more, in time to see him turn toward the community center doors, and then shake it off. The faster I get this done, the faster I can get out of this rain.
Not that I’ll be able to escape once I’m inside. It’s crazy to me that last week, Alicia and I were in perfect sync. I was happy doing this backbreaking bullshit labor. The teens respected me, Tyler especially. It’s all gone to shit in a matter of days, and that makes me wonder if it really ever was that great. I can’t wait to finish my community service hours and be done with this place.
Then what?
Alicia is right. I have no goals. No plan. Nothing. Hell, I don’t even know if I want to go back to firefighting. Whether I’ll be allowed to. That’s a scary thought, too. It’s always been part of my identity.
But what else can I do? What do I even want to do? That’s the magic question, isn’t it? Because right now the only thing that sounds good is an ice-cold beer, and that scares me worst of all. Here in Kitty Hawk my sobriety is a struggle, but it’s just me to do battle with. Back home, when one of the guys asks to grab dinner or go out to celebrate a promotion, what am I going to do? When my roommates throw a kick back for the game and the counter is lined with liquor bottles, will I be able to sip on diet soda?
I know enough about myself and my addiction to realize I won’t last a week in either of those scenarios. I wish I could be like everyone else. I wish I could drink without being destructive to myself or others. Hell, I even wish I was someone else. How fucked up is that?
Alicia’s living proof that I can do this—that I can make it last. She partied as hard as I did, and look at her now. There’s a peace about her spirit that I crave more than getting wasted. She’s joyful. Confident. Making this world a better place. I want that.
The wind picks up and the stack of plywood boards I leaned against the building comes crashing down. The container of nails spills out onto the pavement. Fuck. I should’ve taken Tyler’s offer. Why is it so difficult for me to accept help? I guess that’s something else I need to work on.
63
Alicia
It’s late in the afternoon and the center’s filling up fast. We’re almost at capacity, but won’t close the doors for at least another hour. The storm is sitting just off the coast. The latest weather reports still have Lucille listed as a tropical storm, but the longer it gains strength, the more we’re like sitting ducks. I think everyone feels it. As organized as we are, there’s an underlying apprehension that fills every conversation. People are worried. We all want to make it through this safe.
I’m working the safety center, a place for volunteers to charge and check out equipment like the industrial walkie-talkies, first-aid kits, and flashlights. It’s the easiest gig I’ve had all day since none of the items are in high demand right now. I glance up, recognizing Tyler’s mom as the woman walking toward me.
“Alicia.” Janice waves, pulling a rolling suitcase behind her. “How are you?” There’s an unspoken bond between addicts, maybe because we’re more aware of our fragility. Which is why her polite inquiry means more than it seems on the surface. She wants to know if I’m struggling right now, that it’s okay if I am.
“Good,” I assure her. “How are you?”
“Fine.” She sighs. “I just finished up at the office a few hours ago. Visibility is getting pretty bad on the roads, but I made it.”
I glance at the folder in her hand, one I helped stuff with information as well as a map of the assigned cots. “You know where you’re headed?”
“Yeah, I think so. I was just wondering if you’ve seen Tyler? I’ve been calling, but I think maybe the cell towers are d
own.”
I haven’t seen him. Not since I sent him out to help Chase, but that was hours ago. “He was helping with a project, but they should be done.” I don’t want to cause her alarm or panic. He was supposed to come see me when he was done, but I can’t blame him for avoiding me. My teenage self would’ve done the same. “He might be taking care of the kittens. If I see him, I’ll send him to the gym.” It’s almost dinner time. He might even be there already.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
But when I run into Bailey a little while later, she hasn’t seen him either. “You’re sure you haven’t seen him?” I ask, the tension in my muscles increasing by the second. “What about the kittens?”
“I’ve been checking on them all day. He wouldn’t leave without asking me to take care of them. I’m really worried.”
I am, too. “Why don’t you check around the center for me? Maybe take a walk through the teen room and the gym? He’s got to be here.”
Bailey nods and takes off.
I walk the halls and ask everyone who knows him the last time they saw him. With every answer, my worry grows. No one has seen him since the fight. Since I sent him out to work with Chase. Maybe he’s with him now.
I can’t imagine I’m Chase’s favorite person right now, but it doesn’t matter. This isn’t about us. I find him sitting around with Charlie and a few other staff members, just outside the gym. He’s laughing at something, but the sound dies at my approach.
“Hey, have you seen Tyler?”
“Tyler?” He pushes to his feet and steps closer, away from the group. “Why?”
I glance around, not really concerned with who overhears. “Because no one’s seen him in hours. Not his mom, not Bailey or any of the staff.” Anxiety claws at my skin, my hands shaking with the possibility Tyler’s not here, or hurt, or both. “The last time I saw him was right before I sent him out to help you.”
Chase’s face pales. “Shit.”
“What? What happened?”
He scrubs a hand over the scruff of his jaw. “I might have told him to fuck off.”
“No!” The little bit of hope I’d held for finding Tyler disappears. “Chase!”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m not proud of it. I was in a shit mood and he didn’t deserve to be subjected to my crap.”
“When was this?”
He swallows, his gaze dropping to the floor between us. “When I was boarding up the windows.”
After we argued. I am the reason he told some teenager to scram? My gut churns with worry as I check the screen of my phone. “That was hours ago.” Apprehension scratches my throat. “We lock the front doors in thirty minutes. If he’s out there . . .” I can’t even finish. The current wind gusts are strong enough to send tree branches through windows. The rain makes it barely visible for driving. But Tyler doesn’t have a car. His mom came here because she didn’t feel safe in their apartment. He could’ve gone there. But if he did, he’s not safe.
“We’ll find him.” Chase’s fingers wrap around my elbow. His intense gaze holds me in place. “I promise. I’ll find him.”
“Miss Alicia.” Bailey’s voice trembles as she rushes forward. She hands over a piece of paper, her pale eyes wide with fear. “I just found this.”
My heart plummets as I take in the words.
Bailey,
I’m sorry about today. I know you’re not into me. Not the way you are with Hunter. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I hate myself. But you’ve always been nice and it’s meant a lot. Everything, really. I just wanted you to know that. Please take care of the kittens. I promise I won’t screw up your life anymore.
Tyler
The letter shakes in my hands. My heart races with fear. “Fuck,” Chase swears, his eyes lift from the letter to meet mine. They’re full of anguish and regret. Helplessness. I feel it, too. Oh, Tyler. Where are you?
64
Chase
It’s all my fault. Tyler is missing and that note—fuck, it’s my doing. Why did I push him away? Why did I ignore his plea for attention? Why do I keep fucking up?
I can’t lose him. I won’t have another loss on my conscience. I won’t.
“Chase! Where are you going?” Alicia races after me, watching as I swipe the set of keys from the supply closet. I saw Charlie store them here after we took the center’s truck to the storage unit for supplies. I hope Tom doesn’t mind I borrow his truck. My license is suspended and technically I’m stealing it. Not that it’ll stop me. I don’t think anything would. I need to get to Tyler and I can’t waste a second.
“Chase!” Alicia’s voice grows with panic. “You can’t go out there.”
I stop at the table of safety supplies. The volunteer assigned to distribution glances up, but must find my glare intimidating enough he doesn’t try to stop me.
“Chase. Look at me.” Alicia’s hand on my arm sends a zing of awareness through my body.
I shake her off. “I’ve run into burning buildings a hundred times. I’m not afraid of a little wind and water.” I’m scared as hell of losing this kid, though. I’m terrified another of my poor choices is about to lead to devastation.
“You’re being ridiculous. You won’t find him out there.”
“The hell I won’t.” I grab a bag and shove in a radio.
“It’s dangerous. You’re being reckless!” She watches as I zip up the pack and sling it over my shoulder. “Chase. You don’t have to do this.”
“Careful.” I head toward one of the exits. Tom’s truck is parked outside, so I shouldn’t have to walk too far. A good thing, since my raincoat is shoved under my assigned cot halfway across the center. “I might get the impression you’d be sad if something happened to me out there.”
“I would!” she shouts, her eyes blazing with fury.
“You care.” I don’t know why, but the realization stuns me. I stop to meet her stare.
“Of course I care.” Her brows pinch and her scowl hardens. As if it pains her to admit aloud. Yet the confession pours from her lips anyway. “I care more than I should.”
I very much want to have this conversation, but it’ll have to be later. “I think I know where he is.”
“Chase, this is a bad idea.” She glances at the door.
My hand rests on the release bar; in one push I’ll be outside. “I’ll be safe. Promise.”
“Come back.” Her eyes glass with unshed tears. Her jaw tightens.
“It’ll be okay.” The words are meant to reassure her, but I think I need them just as much.
“What if it’s not?” Her voice cracks.
“I’ve got this.” She’s the strongest woman I know. She’s stronger than I am. Knowing she’ll be here waiting makes it even more important I return with Tyler. “Hold down the fort. I’ll be back.”
“Be safe.” Her words are the last thing I hear before I push out into the wild night. Rain and wind swallow me up as I jog toward the truck. I have every intention of coming back. I only hope that’s enough.
Tom’s old truck is a beast. There’re no lights to pave the road, the power’s already out, and the flooding is bad. Thankfully, there’s no one else crazy enough to be out in this shit, so it makes maneuvering a little easier. I drive in the center lane. I go around downed trees and hope I don’t get stuck. But most of all I pray that Tyler’s where I suspect.
When I turn onto the road that leads to the dock, the enormity of the approaching storm comes into view. The power and awe in the sheets of rain and gusting wind strikes tremendous fear in my gut. I’ve walked into some desperate situations, but never like this. Never on my own. God, I hope I’m not making a mistake.
I park the truck as close as possible, cut the engine, and leave the keys. I push the door open but it quickly flies back, shoving against my arm with a gust of wind. The weather is worse here. It’s closer to the water and there are no buildings or trees to lessen the brunt of its force. My legs ache as I p
ush forward with steady steps, my muscles straining against the onslaught.
The dock is still standing. A relief. But the boats crash together with an angry rhythm. The ocean waters churn below. Roiling waves edging dangerously close to swallowing everything up. The boats list to the point that a few of them capsize. Others strain against their moorings.
I squint against the driving rain, my focus at the end of the dock. There’s someone out there. At least, I think there is. “Tyler!” I shout, but I don’t think the sound reaches him. My feet move faster with purpose. Ignoring the groaning of the wooden floorboards and the way the entire thing rocks, I press on. “Hey, Tyler!”
He’s there. Exactly where I found him a few days ago. My heart surges with relief, even if he ignores my approach. His arms clutch the wooden post, his legs tucked into his body and not dangling over the ledge like last time.
“Hey,” I say, dropping to my knees when I’m only a few feet away. I made it this far, the last thing I need is for me to fall, or him to jump. “Tyler.” I steady my voice, not wanting to fuel his fear or mine. “Everyone’s looking for you.”
He turns to lift his gaze. His eyes are rimmed with red as if he’s been crying. “No, they aren’t.”
“It’s the truth,” I shout over the storm. “Everyone is worried sick. Come on, let’s go back.” I hold out a hand.
“No.” He swallows hard.
“No?” Fuck, of course he’s not gonna make this easy. He didn’t come out here for fun. He’s obviously dealing with some shit. “Tyler, man, I like the ocean as much as the next dude, but maybe we can come back after this storm has passed.”
“Nobody cares.” His gaze goes back to the cresting waves.
“You’re wrong.”
“You’re just saying that because you have to.”
