Page 165 of Small Town, Big Storm

And full of lightning and gale force winds and?—

Hurt.

Somuch hurt.

Then without a word, without a smile, without a single explanation, he turns on his heel…

And he walks away.

Forty-Three

Storm

Fuck.

Fuck.

I clip across the parking lot, my mind twisting, my lungs working in overtime, my vision reduced to pinpricks of light.

Fuck.I can’t do this.

Fuck.I can’t be here.

Fuck.I need togo.

“Storm?”

Whipping around, I see Poppy hurrying across the lot, her expression full of concern.“What’s happening?”she asks as she reaches my side.

I open my mouth to explain.

But I can’t.

The words won’t come.

Or the right ones won’t, anyway.

“I can’t do this,” I rasp.“I can’t be here.I can’t?—”

“Stop,” she says, settling her hand on my back and there’s nothing in her tone that allows for any argument.Maybe in another situation, I’d resent the sharp order, the terse command.But right now, when she instructs me to, “Breathe,”I just do exactly that.

I suck in air.

Release it in a rush.

“Again,” she says, her hand moving up and down my back, her tone softening ever so slightly when I follow that order too.“Good, honey.Now keep going, slow and steady.”

I do that too.

“Talk to me,” she says when I’ve managed to connect a few breaths and not pass out.

I close my eyes, shake my head.“That’s Joey,” I whisper.“And Damon.”

Now it’s her turn to inhale sharply.“Oh, fuck.”She presses a little closer, hand convulsing on my back.

“Yeah.”My laugh is far from amused.“Fuck.”

“I’ll go inside and tell them to leave.”