Star Crossed Hurricane (6 page)

So pathetic. I. Am. Pathetic.

“Wanna tell me what the hell is wrong with you? What were you thinking, leaving in a storm like that? In an area you don’t know? Alone?” he bellowed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, shivering. She’d never seen him so furious. Gorgeous chiseled chest forgotten.

Almost.

“Now you’ve not only put your life at risk, Savvy, but everyone who’s looking for you, too! We’re in the middle of a hurricane!”

“I—I’ve never been in a hurricane before. I thought—”

“You didn’t think. You could have been killed. Or stolen. Or—or abducted.”

“Abducted and stolen are the same thing.”

He glared at her, his eyes as stormy as the hurricane outside. “Savannah…”

“I’m sorry, Sawyer. I didn’t think. I just — I just needed to run. To think. And I really,
really
wanted to see this house. It was in my head and wouldn’t go away and—” Seeing that she was only making Sawyer madder, she finished lamely, “—and Aaron was so upset.”

“He’s going to be upset when I get a hold of him. Who the hell lets a little girl like you go running out alone in a storm?”

“Someone who realizes I’m a grown woman and I make my own decisions? Stop it, Sawyer. You have no right to act like this. I made a mistake, and I’m paying for it. I’m cold and banged up and wet and scared. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? That I’m an idiot?”

The fury in his eyes died immediately. “No, Savvy. That isn’t what I want to hear. I want to hear that you’re safe and warm and okay.”

Sighing, she tried to run her hand through her sopping wet tangles. “I am okay. Are you?”

He nodded. “We need to move, though.”

They left the room and she could see more of the building, and, thank the heavens, she had something to distract her from how absolutely perfect Sawyer was, despite the fact that he’d just blown up at her.

“Cool,” she breathed, turning in a slow circle. The hallway went both directions. To the left, it turned out of sight. To the right, it opened up to what looked like a staircase. The carpet was molded and threadbare under their feet, the remnants looking to be some sort of red velvet. Ornate silver and black wallpaper hung from the walls, revealing torn sheetrock and crumbling plaster. “How old do you think this place is?”

Sawyer looked down at her, arching one dark eyebrow as his lips quirked. “Isn’t that your area of expertise?”

Holy snowballs, he’s gorgeous.
Her gaze fluttered to his mouth, unwillingly reliving the feel of his lips against her skin. And then she couldn’t remember what she’d asked. Or even her own name.

His grin broadened and he started down the hall, toward the stairs. “I’d guess… maybe 1920s?” He shrugged his broad shoulders, the t-shirt plastered to him and unmovable. His jeans hung low on his hips, torn in all the right places, and she realized that for the first time ever, she and Sawyer were completely alone.

No roommates, no teammates, no parents. No Beckett.

She swallowed hard.

“You comin?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.” She scampered after him, reminding herself
again
of a happy little dog.

The stairway was wide, sweeping down two floors, and up one more. “It looks like something out of the movies,” she whispered.

“Yeah… if the movies included zombies and vampires.” Sawyer glanced at the stairs, then up and down the hall and above them. Watching for threats.

“Are you scared, Sawyer?” she teased, giggling when he frowned at her.

“Yes I am. As should you be. You have no idea what might be living here.”

“The big, tough Sawyer. Felled by his fear of the dark.”

“It’s not the dark I’m afraid of, Buttercup. It’s what comes out of it in creepy old houses that worries me.” She loved when he drawled like that. It was sexy enough to set her heart on fire.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” She grinned and bounded up the stairs, trying not to shudder as the wind shook the old house and rain lashed through the cracks and breaks. “On a completely unrelated topic… I’ve never seen a storm like this.”

Sawyer smirked. “I’ll protect you from the storm, you protect me from the vampires and zombies. Deal? And why are we going
up
the stairs?”

“Deal.” She smiled down at him, because he still stood on the third floor and she was almost to the fourth. “I want to explore. Are you coming?”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh and followed her up. “It’s a bad one. We might be stuck here for the night. And I should look at your head.”

“For—for the night?” she gasped, her fingers dancing around the gash in her head. “It’s only a couple miles.”

“Yeah, with lots of washed out roadways and trails and mudslides that will bury you. Sorry, Buttercup. You’re stuck with me.”

You’re the one that had a problem with that, cowboy. Not me.

The fourth floor was smaller than the rest of the house, one giant, empty room. Graffiti scrawled across the moldy walls and broken windows overlooked what had once been the lawns. “Well isn’t this fun,” Sawyer muttered. “Let me look at your head.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and used it for light. “Damn. How’d you do this? It’s a nasty one, Buttercup.”

“A board… fell on my head.”

“See why we don’t go running through the forests in hurricanes?”

She rolled her eyes. “Noted. Is it going to leave a scar?”

He held his phone up, shining it in her eyes. “Nah. Maybe. But you’ll live.” He tore a strip from his t-shirt like it was no problem at all, and dabbed at her wound. She’d tried to do that once—tear her t-shirt — when she’d been in desperate need of something to tie her hair back with. It was
not
easy.

“You just ruined your shirt,” Savannah breathed, because now she could see, when he moved his arm just so, the chiseled abs underneath.

Savannah whimpered.

His eyebrows immediately pursed in concern. “Does that hurt? How did a board fall on your head?”

“No, it didn’t hurt,” she murmured, trying to drag her mind out of the gutter. “I was standing in the little alcove. A—a shingle or something broke loose from the roof and fell. I happened to be standing where it wanted to land.”

“Did it knock you out?” Now he was holding his phone light in her eyes, studying her pupils. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her neck, and if she was brave, she would kiss him.

But she was not brave, unless it was to protect one from zombies and vampires. So she did not kiss him. “Yeah,” she said instead. “I think so. I fell down.” Nice. Real brilliant.

“This is when being in pre-med school would be helpful.” He bit his lip, which reminded her that
she
would have sold her soul to bite his lip. Swallowing hard, she stumbled away.

“I don’t need a doctor. I can’t even count how many times I’ve hit my head.”

“Which might be
why
you can’t count how many times you’ve hit your head.” The wind howled, and the plaster from above rained down like dry hail. “Yeah… this roof sounds like it’s about to come off. Let’s move down.”

Savannah sighed. “Fine. But I want to see out the windows first.” Before he could point out how stupid that was, she hurried across the room. “So pretty.”

She could see the storm, lashing the trees angrily, the clouds roiling through the sky. “That is some storm.”

“Beautiful,” Sawyer said quietly. She turned around to see where he looked, but he still stood in the doorway, watching her. And she let her hopeful mind pretend it wasn’t the storm he was talking about.

And then the roof sank. It didn’t crash down like she would have expected. More like it lifted up and then sank back in. Savannah squealed and raced across the room, shoving Sawyer in front of her and down the stairs. “What did I say?” Sawyer yelled, taking the steps two at a time. “I said it wasn’t safe. I know what I’m talking about!”

“Yes, yes, Sawyer. You win.” Savannah skidded to a stop at the third floor, the one they’d come in on. “I’m going this way.”

Sawyer stopped, too, looking at her like perhaps she had grown another head. “Are you serious?”

“Come on, Sawyer. It’s not like a whole level is going to lift right off.”

“Might I point out that only half this floor is covered by the fourth floor, and the other half seems to have suffered some sort of devastating fire?” He crossed his arms and glared at her.

“Good point. Second floor it is.” Even still, she couldn’t resist one last, sad look at the rooms she would never see.

“Sawyer. Good friend, fast runner, brilliant student, and always the voice of reason,” she muttered.

“One of us has to be.”

She sighed. “Does it ever get old? Being so… reasonable?” Savannah wasn’t sure when, exactly, reasonable had turned into a bad thing. Probably around the time his reasonableness had gotten in the way of her exploring.

“No. I’m always reasonable. Never had a reason not to be.”

She frowned. “There are always reasons not to be. When you’re angry. When you’re tired. When—when you’re in love, perhaps.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Never been in love.”

“Never?” she gasped.

“Nope. You?”

She ran a hand through her hair, which only resulted in it getting tangled. Desperate to free herself before he happened to notice, she tried to wrench it free. “I have been. It didn’t last.”

“Beckett?”

She nodded, then realized that he couldn’t see her. Finally, she got her fingers back, although she lost a good chunk of hair doing it. “Yeah. For the first few months, he was so sweet. I fell hard. But it didn’t last. He was… not very nice quite often. And he seemed confused as to what ‘being faithful’ meant.”

Sawyer stopped mid-step and turned to face her. “Did he hurt you?” he growled, lightning practically shooting across his eyes.

Savannah shook her head. “Not physically, no.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is Beckett’s best friend, you idiot girl!
“He… he has his little head games, you know?”

“And he cheated on you?” She’d never seen him so dark and dangerous. Swallowing hard, she nodded.

“But it was an accident.”

“He never told me this.”

It was her turn to shrug. “He wasn’t proud of it. He was drunk.”

“Underage drinking?” Sawyer snarled.

Savannah giggled. She couldn’t help it. “You never have?”

“No. My uncle was an alcoholic. I have no desire to start on that path.”

If possible, Savannah adored him more. “My brother-in-law was, too. I don’t drink.”

He gave her a reluctant smile. “Smart girl.”

“Which has already been established, as long as no one reviews my actions today.”

He chuckled, that low and beyond-sexy laugh she loved so much. “Come on, Buttercup.” Sawyer grabbed Savannah’s hand, leading her down the stairs. His fingers twined with hers, his palms calloused, his touch gentle. If her heart had wings, it would be fluttering along in front of her, chirping happily.

She was surprised when he stopped at the second floor. She looked up at him quizzically. “You wanted to explore?” he asked.

Savannah grinned. “Yes!”

CHAPTER SIX

S
TILL CLUTCHING
S
AWYER’S HAND
, she hurried into the hall. It was long and wide, running east to west with huge windows at each end. The wallpaper here had once been white with little red flowers, and the carpet might have been pink, once. She could see, from where she stood, four doors, all closed. The fire damage had hit this floor, as well — the blackened ceiling disappeared under the gap at the top of the door farthest from them. “I wonder what happened here.”

She started with the first room, peeking inside. “No zombies. No vampires. It’s safe, Sawyer.”

“Good. I don’t have my zombie/vampire slaying pack with me.”

She held up her phone, walking backward into the room. “I think there’s an app for that.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “That was cheesy as heck, Savvy.”

But she’d already moved on. “Look at this!” The room was ‘L’ shaped, and in the middle of the north wall was a hole, surrounded by a banister. She could see down into the room below, and also across the open square to the room next door. “Isn’t this cool? I want this in my house.”

Sawyer watched her bounce through the room, checking out the windows and peering down to the first floor. “What else is going in your dream house?” he finally asked.

“Fireplace, definitely.” She looked up with a quick grin before she went back to her exploring. “Lots of bookshelves. Maybe a fountain in the master bedroom… and lots of trees outside, so when I look out my window, that’s all I can see. Bonus points if it’s a cabin on a lake.”

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “I sort of pictured you for the adorable apartment in the big city kind of girl. Given that you want to be an urban explorer and all.”

She shrugged. “I like nature. Apartments and big cities don’t give you a lot of room to run.”

“Ah. We can’t have that.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He chuckled and followed her out. The next room was the exact same as the first, as was the room across the hall, except where that one looked into the room next to it. Instead of being able to see through the open square, there was a blackened, charred piece of plywood blocking the way. Dark chills shivered down her spine. If there was ever a place that could make her believe in ghosts, this might be it.

She hesitated at the fire room’s door, feeling a definite foreboding. But curiosity, as always, won. The handle was rusted and the door stuck. “It won’t open,” she said pathetically after trying to ram it with her shoulder. All that accomplished was bruising her arm.

Sawyer watched her efforts with a frown from the middle of the hall. “Maybe it’s fate telling you to stay the heck out.”

“Maybe it’s fate saying you were giving those big ole’ shoulders for a reason.” She raised an eyebrow, giving him her best, most pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“That is not the reason I have shoulders, Buttercup.” He didn’t move, unswayed by her adorableness.