Page 1 of Small Town, Big Storm

Prologue

Storm

I slowat the final curve in the road, every cell in my body telling me to stop, to pull into the next turnout and flip a U-turn, to get the fuck out of here.

Away from Cedar Hollow.

Away from the memories, from the darkness that clung to my childhood.From the grief and the pain and the fists leaving bruises.

But the old bastard is dead.

He can’t hurt me anymore.

So, why am I here?

“To make sure he doesn’t somehow resurrect himself and haul his ancient, shriveled ass out of the grave?”I mutter.

Right.

Am I streaming far too much horror content?

Maybe.

But it’s still bizarre to think that my father is dead, that this giant storm cloud that’s shadowed my life for so long has finally lost its power.

That the wind has slowed, the rain has stopped, the blue skies are shining through?—

“Enough fucking metaphors, dumbass.”Snorting, I press my foot to the gas pedal and drive into town.

But as I make my way to the church, it’s impossible to shake off the sense of foreboding.

My chest grows tight, my lungs heavy, and my pulse pounds through my veins.

It’s like I’m on the rink, my skates digging into the ice, my eyes on the puck, my body hurtling toward exhaustion as I try to push through my shift to make one more play, to give one last bit of strength.

That hasn’t been going well either.

Hockey.

My game.

My future.

My career and life and dreams and expectations and?—

Beep!

I jerk, hands tightening on the steering wheel, and realize the one signal in town has turned green.

“Christ,” I whisper, lifting a hand in apology as I press on the gas and start forward again.

I pass the library and the fire station and the ice rink.Drive by the turn-off for Gold Creek and the beach where I whiled away many a summer, eating ice cream and wading in the cold ass water and getting up the nerve to climb to the top of Grizzly Rock and dive into the deep blue river below…all while mooning over the girls who couldn’t be bothered to so much as look my way.

Until one had.

God, those days?—

I shake myself.