Page 47 of Dallas Rivals

“What’s wrong?” she asks, coming up behind me.

“The door—something’s blocking it from the outside. We’re stuck.”

Her calm expression twists into worry, and she moves beside me, pressing her shoulder against the wood to help push.

“What do you think it is?”

“Probably debris from the tornado,” I sigh, rubbing my eyelids with my fingertips.

Cala starts pounding on the door with both hands.

“Is anyone out there?!” Her hits grow faster, louder.

“Cala…” I warn, my tone sharp. “Cala!”

“What?!”

“No one’s coming. Eliza has strict orders not to open the shelter until the radio says it’s clear. We have to wait.”

Muttering something under her breath, she walks back to where we were and drops down beside me, defeated. I can see her worry building again, creeping up her spine, and I don’t want her to spiral—not over this.

So I sit next to her.

And we wait for someone to find us.

Not knowing if my parents are okay makes my skin crawl.

I have no idea what’s going on outside—if the animals made it, if there’s even a house left standing.

For all I know, Oliver’s mansion could be scattered across the field like matchsticks.

“Hey,” Oliver murmurs beside me, his voice low and rough. “You’re okay. Don’t let your mind take over.”

He’s sitting next to me on the straw.

The same straw where, moments ago, I completely lost it—and let him take control of every last piece of me.

Why?

Hell if I know.

Maybe nerves, maybe relief, maybe that desperate need to feel alive after thinking we were both about to die.

I still feel the heat of his body against mine, the echo of that chaos in my pulse.

“How can you be sure?” I ask, my voice barely holding steady. “Everything out there could be gone.”

“The shelter’s reinforced steel,” he says calmly. “That’s why I put them there. Even if the house didn’t make it, they did.”

Our eyes meet for a second, and for the first time all night, there’s peace in his.

That calm, steady tone—the one everyone else hears from him—is finally here with me.

And it works. It anchors me.

“What about the animals?”

He exhales slowly. “We have to trust their instincts.”