Page 29 of Beautiful Collide

7

Molly

It feelslike an eternity has passed since we started driving. Occasionally, Hudson will shift in his seat or mess with the vents, breaking the monotony of the road. Other than that, it’s been completely silent for three hours. Two more to go.

Already, I’ve run out of ways to silently hate Hudson, so I’ve started focusing on the hum of the tires against the pavement and counting mile markers to pass the time. We couldn’t agree on a radio station or playlist, so music is not even playing.

The rain pounds on my windshield.

I glance at the clock on the dashboard, debating whether it’s worth stopping for coffee. Before I can decide, the shrill wail of a siren cuts through the car like a knife.

“What the hell—” I startle, gripping the wheel tighter.

Hudson sits up straighter, his head tilting as he listens. “Tornado sirens.”

My stomach twists into a knot. Freakingtornadosirens. My foot eases off the gas as dread pools in my chest.

Dane. My thoughts fly to him immediately. Did their plane land safely? Are they already at the hotel? What if—

No. Stop. They flew. They’re fine.

The flight from Redville isn’t too long, and since the team left before us, they’re definitely already there. So there’s nothing to worry about.

I exhale sharply, gripping the wheel harder to ground myself, my knuckles white.

Okay, it’s fine. It’s all fine.

But then the realization slams into me . . .I’mnot fine.

Tornado sirens mean one thing—there’s a tornado nearby. And I’m driving straight into it.

Panic bubbles up, clawing at my throat. My breaths come faster, and the edges of my vision start to blur.

“Relax,” Hudson says, his voice maddeningly calm.

I glare at him, incredulous. “Relax? Are you serious? There’s a tornado out there, Hudson.”

“I’m aware,” he informs me, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He doesn’t even look worried. He’s so infuriatingly composed that I want to scream.

My cell phone starts blaring with a warning, adding to the chaos.

My heart pounds faster. “What should we do?”

Hudson shrugs, his brow furrowing. “Depends on where it’s on the ground.”

I shoot him a quick look, frustration bubbling up. “Can you check where it’s on the ground?”

“Will do.”

Another alert blares from my phone.

He’s taking too long to search.

“What are you doing?” I snap, my hands tightening on the wheel.

Hudson’s fingers fly across his screen. “Looking up the nearest safe spot.”

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