––––––––
My toes gripped the grass.
I crouched down low, imagining someone holding a gun beside me.
Bang!
Exploding upward, my muscles flared to life. My legs pistoning against the ground, and my half-claw, half-toes digging into the dirt gave me speed. Along the side of the forest facing my house, I dashed to the end of the grassy run I’d built, and then bent over forward with my hands on my knees.
Sweat dripped down my face, around my neck, and down my belly. The wet spots where sweat soaked into my shorts clung to my skin.
I let out a grunt when I stood back up, and unbunched a really unflattering, hitched up boob from my sports bra.
Bending all the way to the ground, I raked my fingers through the grass and twisted from side to side.
Then I did it all over again.
Back and forth, back and forth, until the world was a blur and the ache in my legs took the place of the dull throb in my chest.
Two days.
Two days ago, the man I thought would be the one to take me places I never dreamed. The one I thought was mine forever... we made love and then he vanished.
Just... gone.
Not a call, nothing. He left a note that made me cry because of how raw and vulnerable and open he was – things I had been with someone who never gave it back to me, someone who made me feel like a shit-heel for wanting to be close to someone else. I was always pretty sure that Liam hated me from about the second or third year we were together, but just never admitted it to himself.
I knew Orion had his own trouble. His heart wasn’t whole, but I thought we could fix each other. I thought I’d finally found someone who could help me face my own fears while he faced his.
But then, I woke up, and he was gone, with nothing but a letter in his place. A letter with my mother’s earring underneath.
I felt terrible for being angry. I was worried about him – worried sick to my stomach actually – but the note was so vague that finding him – if he even wanted me to – was a lost hope. Like I always did before I lost it, I pinched the earring between my thumb and forefinger, tugging at it nervously.
Seeing that little stud had warmed my heart. It had been so unbelievable to find it sitting there. I guessed that was what he’d been on about with all the hints about having something to give me.
But none of that made him vanishing any easier to take.
“Shit,” I whispered, grabbing my water jug and taking a big, long slug. I let some of it run down my chin, wetting my shirt, just to cool off a little. Then I poured some over my face and shook it off. “I can’t let this kill me. Liam ruined me for a decade. That’s not going to happen again.”
It wasn’t even really anger I felt, not deep down. It was a mixture of betrayal, confusion, and fear that something terrible had happened. It was almost like I was convincing myself to be mad at him because I couldn’t handle the idea that he might have gotten himself hurt, or worse.
I’m... not very good at being helpless.
But that’s exactly what I was right then.
Running my hands through my hair, I stared up into the blue-gray morning for a second, as a thick, puffy thunderhead rolled over the mountains. Great, a storm to match my mood. Better get in enough sprints to wear myself raged so I don’t sit around and just fret all damn day.
Weekends were the hardest for me. Monday through Friday I had Dean, Malia, and all the cubs to car for. Just thinking about the panda triplets, the raccoons, and those two big, squishy baby bears got my heart thumping.
Of course, was it really me taking care of them? Mechanically, I guess, yeah, but deep down I think it was the other way.
I squatted down, then stretched one leg out in front, then the other. Again I imagined the guy with the gun.
Bang!
It didn’t solve much, but the running kept me sane.
*
Phrases like ‘storm of the century’ lose most of their meaning when you live in a place where magical storms and angry genies and mopey unicorns are things that actually exist, but when Whit Whitman said it this time, I sorta had to agree.
The clouds roiling on the horizon were just about the same shade of silver as Whit’s impeccably manicured hair, and they had dark gray streaks pouring out of them. Heavy, heavy rain was coming.
I chuckled, thinking about Whit’s underling, Jake Jackson, and how he had actually said that Whit’s voice was sex to his ears, and somehow kept a straight face. I shook my head, grateful for a tiny break from the grinding agony in my brain.
“This storm,” Whit said, with his gravelly gravitas, “this one will be big. We’ve seen some rains this season already, Jamesburg, of course, but nothing like this. Thanks for the report, Jake, thanks very much. In other closing news, the rivers remain low, though I’m sure that after this storm, that won’t continue to be the case. I can only hope the rain comes slowly enough that the rivers don’t overflow. Jamesburg has a wonderful gutter system, but... I’m not entirely sure even our incredible city management team could hope to contain five rivers flooding at once. This is Whit Whitman, signing out. Stay safe, Jamesburg.”
He stared at the camera for a few seconds longer than he normally did before the cameras cut off. His normally calm, hyper-reasonable demeanor cracked slightly, although I’m sure he didn’t realize he was still being watched. Whit pulled the corner of his mustache between his lips and gnawed lightly. He looked over to the left, like someone was calling to him from off camera, and frowned almost imperceptibly.
Finally, the cameras cut, and a commercial for life insurance replaced the worried news anchor. Glorious irony? Why yes, I think so.
Wedged between my ass and the couch, my phone buzzed urgently. My heart skipped a beat as I pulled it out of my back pocket, but then I remembered Orion had left his phone – the one I had to force him to buy in the first place – on the nightstand. It was Dean, anyway.
“Hey,” I said, sounding far more deflated than I meant. “What’s up?”
“No word from Orion yet?” he asked. Dean sounded almost as nervous as I was. “You must be worried.”
I laughed hollowly. “That’s an understatement. I can’t believe he just left like that. After everything we... I mean, I sound like an asshole, but I thought we really had something.”
“You do, Clea,” Dean said. “I’ve never seen anyone so protective, so inflamed and taken with someone else as he is. I mean, I hardly know the guy and I can see his emotions like they were a big neon sign that says ‘I am stupidly in love with this woman’ and then has an arrow pointing toward you. If he said he had something to take care of, then he does.”
“I know,” I said, looking down at my wriggling toes. “I feel terrible for thinking the things I do, but...”
“No, no,” Dean said. I could see him putting his hand up in a ‘stop’ gesture, and shaking his head even though he was at home, four miles away. He always gesticulated wildly on the phone. That was one of the first things we found out we had in common. “Liam screwed you over. Like, in a bad, bad way. I’d be more suspicious if you weren’t thinking Orion got scared or bored or whatever and took off. But I’m telling you – you’re a terrible judge of character. I think we can agree on that, right?”
I laughed softly, thinking about the string of horrible dates I’d had. “Yeah okay, I’ll grant you that one. Telling the zeroes from the heroes has never really been my greatest talent.”
“This one?” he asked. “This one is a hero, Clea. A real, honest-to-God, hero. I mean, he has saved us twice. What do you think of this storm?”
“I think you’re changing the subject,” I said. “But I’m glad you are. I’m worried sick about Orion. I’m making myself crazy with the fretting. I sprinted for like two hours earlier.”
“All I’m gonna say is that it’s a good thing you’re not an armadillo,” Dean said, though he started trailing off before he finished.
“Why’s that?”
“I’m... honestly not even sure what I was going for.”
He cracked a soft laugh and made me smile. “Thanks for the chuckle,” I said.
“So about this storm. Do you have anywhere to go? I mean in case it turns real shitty. Malia and I’ve got the cellar. After her, you’re the other person I’d like to most be shut up in a musty, dark hole in the ground with, after all.”
I stood up and crossed the room, then opened my front door. Wind howled through the trees, screeching like a horde of angry, wailing ghosts. It was pretty horrible, and he was right – I didn’t have much anywhere to go except a bathtub.
“Yeah,” I said. It’ll be good for me to not be alone right now anyway. “Yeah, I think I’ll head over there. You sure? About sharing your dark hole with me?”
I blushed as the words came out of my mouth, but I figured he’d have a laugh.
The bellow on the other end of the line proved I was right. “You always know how to make me smile, Clea. You might be a terrible judge of boyfriends, but you’re a great friend. See you in a few? Hurry up. I’m serious. This is gonna be bad and it’s gonna get here soon. I’ve never seen Whit Whitman look worried before.”
“You noticed that too?” I asked. “I’ve never seen him look any way but pleased with himself. Right. Be right there.”
The line went dead, and I grabbed my wallet and keys. On the way out the door, I spun on my heel and went back to the bedroom to collect Orion’s phone. I don’t know why I did, but it seemed like maybe it was a good idea.
When the door was half closed, I stopped it and went back inside to fetch the beer I bought the night before. If I’m gonna be stuck with my friends in a cellar for who-knows-how-long, may as well. Lemons into lemonade and all that.
As I settled into my Outback’s well worn, comfortable seat, I couldn’t help but wish I was saddling up behind Orion on his gigantic road hog. I longed to feel that thumping engine pulse through my body. I ached to hold him again, to feel my arms around my bear’s muscled waist. I needed, more than anything, to feel his heat, to listen to the beating of his heart.
Rolling down my window, I took a deep breath. The forest air had a sharp sting of fir scent, rounded off by the pregnant rainclouds, ready to burst. It’s something I had always done.
When things were at their darkest, when my life seemed closest to falling completely apart, the rain had kept me sane. I’d sit out on the porch, or in my car, or sometimes at a hotel, depending on exactly how bad the fighting had gotten. With all the windows open, I let the howling wind, the sweet coolness of rain wash over me, wash away my worries.
I never worried much about lightning or floods or anything like that. It always felt like I was immune. Maybe stupid, but it never backfired.
The first gentle patters of rain fell on my windshield. I sat, transfixed, watching the droplets splash and spread and run down the glass.
Turning my key, listening to the engine, it was all mechanical. It was like without Orion, the soul had been sucked right out of me. As much as being around him made me smile and laugh and feel like the soul had been breathed back into me, having him taken away did exactly the opposite.
I took a deep breath, stuck my hand out the window and turned it over a couple times, relishing the rain thumping against my skin.
“There’s no way he abandoned me,” I said.
Something about the rain gave me clarity. The gentle rhythm, the smell, or the feel of the water on my skin... something brought all my thoughts together at once. Like a crystal clear bell going off and focusing my attention after a long daydream, I realized at right that second, I was right. Dean was right.
I had found a hero.
But right then, he was a hero who needed my help.
Of course, before I could do any saving, I had to figure out where he was. That part? That was going to be a hell of a trick, considering that I had absolutely no idea where to start.
“Hey Dean,” I tapped out on my phone. “I’ve got to do some thinking.”
“Don’t do anything crazy,” he texted back. “Also Malia and I had a bet going on whether it would take five minutes, or ten minutes, for you to tell us you weren’t coming and instead you were going to go look for Orion.”
“You know me too well,” I replied, smiling as I did. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“I don’t like this, but okay. If you get in trouble, or you get stuck or scared or anything, you know where we are.”
“Thanks,” I sent back. “You guys... you’re the best. I mean it.”
Tossing the phone into the seat beside me, I backed out of my driveway as the rain came faster. Where was I going? What the hell was I even doing?
In the distance, probably eight or ten miles from where I sat, a single bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and then another went from cloud to ground. The thunder rumbled, then rolled, and finally broke in a cannon-like peal that shook me to the core.
“The beaver,” I said.
One thing after another fell into place in my head like a perfectly arranged Tetris board. I narrowed my eyes, nodding slowly as I formed a model in my brain. Watching all those police procedurals finally came in handy for something besides arm-chair detective work.
The screeching beaver from that art museum exhibit, the tree falling on me that Orion caught. The rivers going dry...
“She’s doing exactly what she threatened,” I realized, as another lightning bolt flashed off to the east, a little closer than the last one. “And who better to use for enforcement than those bikers, the ones...”
I gulped.
“Bikers like the Devils. Bikers like Orion’s dad.”
I had spent enough time in my life in the Jamesburg woods. Most of it camping with Dean and Malia and a bunch of cubs, but I’d had plenty of time to explore. All five rivers only really had one place they could be dammed, one place shallow enough to make it happen without a major industrial effort.
But with the rain beginning to pour, if the dams were real, they weren’t going to last. And if all five broke at once? I wasn’t just going to lose Orion, I was going to lose a town.
The rain beat down. My ancient Outback’s four wheels gripped the road. I had some rivers to check.
And to think, I promised Dean I wasn’t going to do anything crazy.