Page 134 of Hell and High Water

In a flash, she’s bouncing across the room and out the door. With a sigh, I lean back over the table, my eyes blurring to the endless tasks scattered across the surface.

Fuck.

Ora’s visit was a nice distraction.

But it was just that.

I wish I felt as confident as Ora does about my ability to lead. Communication is still a struggle. Pushback from the citizens has grown since we gave them a shred of hope for saving our town. Like, the second they saw someone was in charge, complaints came pouring in.

Scared people want a lot of reassurance. And they need to see results.

“I was a fucking party planner. I’m not cut out for this…” I growl for the hundredth time, gripping my head in my hands.

Hunkering down, I get another hour into tallying up the requests for food, reports of people stranded in their homes and isolated, needing evac to the safe zones. The panicky sensation wells up again, making my chest tight.

Not to mention the fear that has been growing every time I go out to help, to meet with some of the guerilla leadership that Evan drummed up from Sanctum’s blue-collar working class. A fear that I’ll run into Marco. That I will have to face him again so soon.

The nightmares are just as bad.

Worse.

In them, he finds me, finds the people I love in dark caves underneath Sanctum, chasing me, always laughing. And he always catches them, takes them from me.

Pressure builds as I sit there, unable to force the thoughts away, spilling over.

My heart pounds. I feel like I might hyperventilate.

“FUCK!” I scream out at the top of my lungs, unable to keep it in any longer.

The sound echoes out, reverberating back to me right as the inevitable response pops out of the basement workshop. Gavin stares at me for a moment, nothing but love in his eyes. Concern.

He approaches slowly, waiting until some of the tension drains out of my posture, my shoulders slumping.

“Was that a request? Or an order?” I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Tell.”

“Hey! I'm not allowed to have a sense of humor, too?”

“You are but, cheesy Dad jokes are Tell’s department.

“Oh, I definitely don’t want to cross into Dad joke territory.”

“Better Dad jokes than a Dad bod.”

“Who sounds like Tell now?” he claps back, crossing his arms. “And you know damn well that this ain’t no Dad bod…”

He lifts his shirt with an arrogant smile, showing off his washboard stomach.

Sweet. Goddess.

I do not lick my lips. Nope.

“You’ve been working too hard.”

Is it my imagination or did he accent the word ‘hard’?

“I can’t get it all done, Gav. I feel like I’m blowing it!” I glare at him as soon as I say it. “Don’t you dare make another joke.”

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