They were both yelling at us, but I couldn’t make out a single word they said.
After a few menacing gusts, the wind slowed to a speed that allowed me and Brett to regain our footing and rush back inside.
Soaked and physically exhausted, we both fell to the floor, Brett still in my arms. I held him there and looked deep into his eyes, hoping he wasn’t injured.
He opened his mouth to speak, and I found myself wincing in anticipation.
Was it going to be another snarky comment? Another criticism of my efforts?
Should I have perhaps brought a raincoat to make his journey inside more comfortable?
Brett’s eyes widened as he gazed up at me, both of us completely drenched.
“Thank you,” he said. “And, I’m sorry.”
Leonard chuckled. “What ever for, my boy? This storm isn’t your fault!”
For a moment, only the sounds of waves and thunder filled the room as Brett kept his eyes on mine.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, almost whimpering. “For everything.”
9
BRETT
The doorbell rang and jolted me from my inner turmoil.
Claire had arrived, hopefully with painkillers and sympathy.
I pushed myself up from the kitchen table and slowly dredged my way over to the front door, grimacing with each movement. Every muscle in my body ached from the previous day’s storm.
As soon as I opened the door, Claire quickly confirmed that I looked like hell.
“Jeez,” she scoffed, “you look like you just went ten rounds with a washing machine.”
I winced, rubbed my temples, and gestured for her to enter.
Not only was I nursing the most painful soreness I’d ever experienced, but I was also fighting off a hangover. Before the chaos had unfolded, I had consumed… a few… alcoholic beverages.
And by a few I meant several.
“I’m pretty sure that boat was cursed,” I said through clenched teeth. “First, I’m stuck with Luke, then I have a brushwith death after almost being thrown overboard. At this rate, I’m going to need to hire a chiropractor and a therapist.”
“Hmm…” Claire said, as if she were trying to hold back and bite her tongue. “I don’t think you can afford those two things on your salary.”
My eyes filled with rage. “Claire, why the hell have you been roasting me the past two days? You’re supposed to be my bestie.”
At that, Claire pulled a bottle of pills out of her gigantic bag. “I brought these for your pain.”
“Okay, we’re friends again.”
Next, she pulled a giant flask out of her mega-purse. “Hair of the dog?”
The sight of liquor nearly sent me spinning.
“Put it away!” I shouted, startling myself.
Stacy joined in the conversation. “Squawk! Put it away!”