![]() | ![]() |
KATIE PULLED OUT HER phone to check the time and couldn’t believe it was almost midnight. It seemed like she’d been almost done with this room for the past three days. She wanted to be finished for good before she stopped—no matter how long it took, or what time she finished.
With a paintbrush still in hand, she stood back and assessed the results of her labor. The soft, buttery cream color she’d chosen added elegance and sophistication to the space. This was going to be one of the most beautiful rooms in the house.
As she bent down to give the brush one final wipe before cleaning up, she thought she saw the lights flicker. Stopping in mid-swipe, she studied the chandelier overhead. No wavering or blinking. Must have been my imagination.
A few minutes later, the room lit up for a split second again, but this time the burst of light was followed by the low mutter of thunder in the distance.
Glancing out the window, Katie distinguished the quick flutters of lightning playing hide and seek across the sky. Ever since she moved into Lacewood she’d been shocked by the utter darkness that descended each night, wrapping around the house until banished by the rising sun. In the city her eyes never had to adjust to nighttime—or lightning. Now she found herself blinking when flashes lit the garden outside.
Katie’s grandmother used to call thunderstorms nature’s greatest spectacle. The two of them would sit on the porch and watch storm clouds roll in at dusk, devouring the sun and blocking out all light within minutes. Katie had always been fascinated by storms, not frightened of them—but then again, she’d never been alone in a big house when one hit.
By the time Katie finished washing out paintbrushes, the lightning flashes had grown more frequent and the growl of thunder more intense. Lacewood has witnessed a lot of storms, Katie reminded herself when another dazzling lightning bolt flared across the night sky.
Walking to the front of the house to make sure all of the windows were closed, Katie paused, waiting to count the seconds between the next lightning flash and the thunder. She could barely make out the pale trunks of the sycamores until a brilliant flash from the sky caused the white bark to glow with blinding light. Then all went dark again.
One thousand one. One thousand two. One thousand three. Katie began counting. One thousand four. One thousand...
Boommm! The thunder seemed to roll on and on, shaking the house with its power.
Katie paused to listen for the burst of wind and the first few pings of rain bouncing off the roof, which she knew were imminent. She mentally prepared herself for what would come after, when individual drops would no longer be heard over the racket of a cloud-emptying deluge on a metal roof.
Just as predicted, a rush of air danced in the treetops, causing Katie to hold her breath in expectancy. The swaying limbs and frolicking leaves seemed to toy with her nerves, creating a lively symphony of sound that was nothing compared to what was to come.
Instead of going to bed now, Katie began turning on lights. She didn’t want to admit it, but this storm was making her nervous. The house seemed a little more welcoming when the lights were on—and the lightning didn’t seem as severe. As she listened to the rain rat-a-tat-tatting the roof, Katie wondered about the storms Annie was forced to endure with nothing but a child for company.
Humming to herself to drown out the eerie sound of the wind moaning ominously through the eaves, Katie turned toward the grand staircase, then stopped dead. Her legs turned to jelly, and both her breath and her heart lodged in her throat. Something white and wispy moved at the top of the staircase, compounding the general terror of the storm.
Forcing herself to take a closer look, Katie saw she hadn’t closed one of the windows in the upstairs hallway. A curtain whipped out horizontally as the wind hit the house with full force, howling, rushing, forcing its way through the trees instead of over them now.
Taking the steps two at a time, Katie became entangled in the flapping drapes as she struggled to remove the stick holding up the window. The storm roiled violently, sending sheets of rain through the window to pelt and blind her. She pushed and beat on the window with her fist until it finally moved. With another great heave, she slammed it shut.
The storm had been progressing slowly, but now seemed intent on unleashing its full fury. Stunned by the sudden intensity, Katie pulled her soaked shirt away from her skin and then reached up to push away the wet hair plastered across her face.
This was no ordinary summer storm. The rolling booms of thunder were accompanied by dismal wails that swelled into angry howls as the wind vented its wrath upon the writhing trees outside. Blinding lightning flashes lit up the house, casting strange reflections and creating such spooky images, Katie had to close her eyes.
The wind was bad enough, but the rain now mimicked ping-pong balls hitting the window. Everything sounded fierce and angry, and there seemed to be no reduction—only a slow building as the storm edged closer and closer.
Katie stood unmoving in the hallway, breathing hard, trying to decide what to do. It’ll be over soon. This has to be the worst of it now.
But long rolls of thunder continued to shake the foundation, each one louder and closer than the one before. The moment Katie wondered how much more the house could take, lightning surged into a blinding blue light right outside the window, brighter than a thousand suns. An explosive crack jumbled her senses, and the reverberating boom that followed made her reach out for the wall.
The wind in the trees ceased suddenly, but the silence was as deafening as the noise had been. Katie held her breath, wondering what would happen next. She soon found out. A bone-chilling groan reached her ears, followed by a snap, as a limb—or perhaps the whole tree—succumbed to the vicious assault. Katie took a hurried step away from the window less than a second before something crashed into the house.
Then everything went dark.
Standing motionless with both surprise and fear, Katie listened to the wind, now howling like a raging, living creature. Streaks of lightning caused her to blink against the brilliant flashes, but helped guide her down the hallway a few steps at a time before she was plunged into complete darkness. Again and again the room turned to daylight, only to be thrust back into a murky void.
Something banged on the window nearest to Katie, sounding like a fist striking the glass in anger. One of the shutters must have come loose and was being battered by the wind.
Katie moved now by feel alone, walking faster when the lurid lightning illuminated her way. She could hear more breaking limbs and falling trees outside. The whole world sounded like it was exploding. Panic like she’d never known before welled in her throat.
Phone. Where is my phone?
Downstairs.
Another clap of thunder shook the house, causing her to stop and cling to the bannister with a white-fisted grip. In the darkness and the din, she felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare.
Am I awake? Is this real? Or is it Hell with the lid off?
Even the front door bucked and vibrated now as thunder plowed through the room. The high-pitched screeching of a tree limb rubbing against the house sent a chill down her spine.
The only thing louder than the din of the storm was the clamor of Katie’s heart, pounding like a drum in her ears. She inched her way down the stairs, trying to breathe without gasping when she thought she heard a thump come from the back of the house.
Did something else hit the house? Or was it a door slamming shut? Did someone come in?
She stopped and held her breath. Maybe the upstairs shutter had finally given up and broken loose. She didn’t hear it banging anymore. But with her imagination fully engaged now, Katie began to think about the spirits of the past. Perhaps she had angered them somehow. Perhaps they didn’t want her here anymore. The house itself seemed to be revolting against her like an avenging god, in a blaze of thunder and lightning.
A new onslaught of rain began, pelting the windows with horizontal gusts that continued to gain in force. The storm seemed to have stalled right on top of Lacewood, with no intention of moving away.
When Katie was about halfway down the stairs, she thought she heard another bang coming from inside the house. Her eyes opened wider, even though she could see nothing. When she heard another thud, even closer, pure panic welled and fluttered in her throat.
While she was feeling for the bottom step, a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed her around the waist. Katie was too frightened to even scream.
“Get down.”
The miracle of hearing Will’s voice caused Katie to lose the last shreds of her self-control. She threw herself into his protective arms and sobbed. “What is happening?” Thunder cracked as if it were in the same room with them, requiring Katie to yell to be heard above the havoc.
“Stay down.” Will took a few deep breaths and repeated the words as he pulled her down against him and sat on the steps. “Stay down.”
The security of his embrace made her glad he held on tight. But after a few minutes she began to understand why. He was breathing hard. Shaking. The sound of the storm made it difficult to talk, but there was more to it than that.
“Stay with me, man,” he said in her ear as he rocked back and forth. He was soaked with both sweat and rain—and his voice quaked. His heart pulsed against her cheek in a wild rhythm that told her he was fighting something she couldn’t see. The sound of the storm—or perhaps the utter chaos—had opened a wound inside him.
The man who was usually a mountain of strength was being torn apart.
Katie wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t know what to do or say. Her father had moments like this. Thunder, or even backfiring cars ignited memories that left him dazed and unreachable—sometimes completely unapproachable for days. The summer visits to his mother’s house in the country were the only remedy for his troubles. The country air and quiet life served to stabilize and steady him, while time in the city made him detached and withdrawn.
Everything about Will was beginning to make more sense now. He’d been in the military...lost a close friend. Perhaps that was why his instinct now was to push everyone away...not get too close.
“It’s okay, Will.” She rubbed his arm to comfort him, wanting to hold him for as long as it took for his heart rate to ease. “It’s only a storm.”
He repeated her words over and over, as if he might lose them while the tempest continued to vent its wrath. Breaths came in great spasms, and his arms trembled as he held her.
For a few long minutes no reassurance seemed good enough. Katie tightened her embrace, and Will returned the gesture, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.
She wanted to tell him she understood but was afraid that would be too bold. How could she possibly understand what he was going through? The storm had kindled something beyond her experience or understanding.
Anyway, they were practically strangers—bonded together by this house...and now perhaps by the fact they both had deep wounds that still bled freely.
Will pulled away slightly as the storm’s fury began to diminish. When Zeke appeared and licked his face, Will put his hand out and patted him on the head. “I’m okay, boy.” His voice wasn’t loud, but still it sounded more like a cry of pain than a sign of reassurance.
Katie maintained her steadfast hold as his chest rose and fell against her cheek. She glanced up at him just as lightening flickered through the window and glimpsed an unspoken pain alive and glowing in his eyes. Agonizing thoughts—or memories—darkened his countenance as he trained his gaze on the wall, trying to regain his composure.
“I’m sorry.” His expression was vacant, as if he didn’t know exactly where he was or how he’d gotten here.
Katie pretended her own fear had been too great to notice his. She knew the military culture was one of toughness, that he wouldn’t want her to see any sign of weakness.
“For what? Scaring me to death when you grabbed me?” She forced a laugh.
“The thunder.” He put both hands to his head and covered his eyes as if to stop the images still assailing him. “Sometimes I can’t stop the movie playing in my mind.”
“It’s okay, Will. Really.”
He kept talking as the storm appeared to take one more deep, convulsive breath before moving on. “Pounding heart. Blurred vision. Fingertips go numb.” He opened and closed his hand, gazing at it thoughtfully. “There’s too much noise. Not enough air. Thoughts won’t stop.”
His whole demeanor spoke of a grief and anguish he was powerless to banish.
The darkness around them seemed to tremble for a moment, but it was only the lights flickering back on. Will stopped talking as suddenly as he’d started, and stared down at her, hard, as if daring her to run away or laugh at his weakness.
Katie stared back. The eyes that had fascinated her from the first glance now held her in a trance. Seconds passed. “The electricity’s back on,” she finally said to break the tension.
Will let out his breath, but whether it was from relief or exasperation, she could not tell. “I noticed.”
Thunder still muttered among the hills, and lightning glimmered now and then, but the storm was causing its chaos somewhere else now.
“I’m not usually like this.” Katie realized she was still sitting on his lap and felt the need to explain her own moments of panic. He merely nodded and tightened his embrace. The security, the protectiveness, brought a surge of warmth to her she wasn’t expecting.
“Thanks for coming here. How did you—”
Will didn’t let her finish. “I got an alert on my phone from Bo saying it was going to be bad. I wasn’t sure I could make it here, so many limbs are down.”
“Are you all right?” She sat back and examined him, searching for signs of blood. “You could have been killed. What if a tree had fallen on you?”
“I knew you’d be scared. I had to try.”
Katie was silenced for a moment. He knew the storm would trigger his own demons, and yet his only thought had been to reach her, to comfort and protect her.
The thought of his determination—no matter the cost—made her realize how wrong her first impression of him had been. He wasn’t cold, distant, and unfeeling at all. He simply didn’t want others to see how much he was hurting.
Maybe he didn’t really want to spend his life keeping everyone at an arm’s length. Maybe he was just resigned to it.
Katie cleared her throat, not sure of what to say or how to say it. “My father was in the military, and I want you to know I under—”
He didn’t let her finish. “It’s behind us now.” A muscle in his jaw tensed, as if holding raw emotions in check. “I don’t want to talk about it. Understand?
Yes, she understood. The mask was back. He would lock every feeling, sensation, and emotion inside. Express. Confess. Impart nothing more.
Will patted Zeke on the head one more time before releasing Katie and helping her to her feet. His movements were stiff. His expression despondent.
He stepped away, leaving a void between them—and nothing but a cold chill where his protective arms had been.