The Final Storm (The Storm Series Book 2) by Liz Hambleton

Author:Liz Hambleton [Hambleton, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-10-24T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The Assembly

Dean looks the same. From where I’m standing, not much time has passed. I know when this was, but I don’t know why I’m seeing it now. His dark eyes immobilize me, and I watch him look out onto our farm, crossing his arms across his wide chest.

The boys look younger, but children have a way of aging so much faster. A year with them makes all the difference. After our weeks apart, they’ve probably grown a foot.

I’ll see them again. I’m not dead.

A smirk crosses Dean’s face as he gazes at BeLew, but it’s not an endearing look in his eyes. I know that look. The way his lips turn up when he thinks he knows how to turn a conversation his way. He spins around. “I know Rowan better. I’ve known her longer. You need to focus on your boys.” His voice fades away with each step, muffled by the closed window.

When the moment of shock passes, I rush to the door with shaking limbs.

It’s not real.

I hold my palm against my thudding heart.

It’s not real.

I tell myself to reach for the door, but I stare at it, waiting for the courage. BeLew’s laughter sounds in the distance, and I crane my neck in their direction. “It’s not real!” I yell at them. I feel the scream under the palm of my hand vibrate inside my chest. I ball my hands into fists and I roar again, as loud as I can. “You’re not real!”

The boys don’t stop playing.

No one comes to the door.

A steady hammer beats on the roof overhead.

It’s not real.

Unclenching my fists, I reach for the doorknob. I can feel it, I can touch it, but I can’t turn it. My fingernails scratch at the door, looking for another way inside. Leaning my body against the wood, I let myself see the inside of my old home until I’m falling forward, my hands slapping on the floor in front of me.

The fall knocks the air from my lungs, and I bang my chin on the wood when I land. “Fuck,” I groan when I’m able to lift my head. I’m inside the house.

That fall felt real.

Voices carry down the hall, clearer now that I’m inside. I scramble to my knees and look back at the door behind me where my feet stick out the other side.

Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real.

I hear my brother-in-law speaking, and I get to my feet. He’s not as calm and controlled as Dean, but that’s common in a conversation with him. Dean dominates every interaction with terrifying ease. It’s a skill he’s had from birth, and I curse myself again for not seeing it sooner.

“I’ve been thinking about it. Yes,” my brother-in-law says. “I’ll admit that, but Morgan will never agree.”

“I didn’t know your wife was the head of your family,” Dean mocks. “News to me.”

“Don’t speak to me about family. Rowan is not your family.”

“Rowan and I will always be family. She will always be mine.

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