Eye of the Sh*t Storm by Jackson Ford (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

She’ll have traffic cams up. Even if she doesn’t think to check for Nic’s ride, she might get lucky. I know she’s got some crazy facial recognition stuff.”

A coldness sneaks into my stomach, squats there. I can’t bear talking about Reggie like she’s the enemy. It’s all kinds of wrong. But if Leo ends up on her radar, then he’ll be on Tanner’s. That can’t happen. I send a silent apology winging its way to her.

“Plus,” Annie says, “they still haven’t shifted most of the debris from when that one skyscraper collapsed in Downtown. It’d take us hours just to get around it.”

I roll the idea over in my head. “I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of staying on the river. Compton is far.”

“Oh yeah. Like twenty miles. I’m not saying we have to walk it all, though. A car in the storm drain’s probably too conspicuous – people notice that kind of stuff, even now, and we couldn’t get one in here until we get to the paved part downriver anyway. But a couple of bikes might get us down there.”

“I just—”

“Don’t get me wrong, I think this whole thing is all kinds of messed up. But if we are really are gonna do this, then yeah, the river’s the best chance we got.”

I bend over, hands on my knees. Annie’s right. And as much as she thinks I’m an idiot, she’s probably the best person to have with me right now. I didn’t think that way before, but…

“Listen, Nic,” I say, picking up my thought from before Leo ran. “Thank you so much for coming. It…” I clear my throat. “I appreciate it. But you don’t have to stick around. We can take him from here.”

Nic wavers, chewing his lower lip, then nods.

“I’m gonna put you down for a sec, bud,” he says to Leo. But when he tries to do so, Leo won’t let him go.

“I don’t wanna go if you’re, if you’re not here,” the boy says, his voice muffled by Nic’s shirt.

“Come on, my man.” Nic says gently. Once again, he tries unsuccessfully to put him down.

Leo holds on even tighter. “No-o-o-ooo.”

There’s an awkward moment where Nic has actually let go of him, but Leo is still hanging off his neck. Nic gives me a helpless look, and I just shake my head. I don’t have the first clue what to do here.

“I don’t want you to go.” The despair in Leo’s voice is unbelievable – the kind of thing you should never hear from a child. “If the Zigzag Man comes back, or if… if…” His voice dissolves into sobs. The whole day, everything he’s been through, just spilling out of him.

Nic can do nothing but hold him, stroking his hair and telling him it’s going to be OK. Even when it isn’t.

I don’t know what to do here. I can’t make Nic stay – not after I gave him the OK to head on out. But if Leo won’t move without him, then we’re screwed. I can’t drag the boy to Compton, and I don’t know if we have time for me to sit around and argue with him.

Something I may have mentioned already: Nic’s a decent dude. Whatever our issues, he’s fundamentally a good person. So when he looks at us and says, “Guess I’m sticking around,” I’m only a little bit surprised.

“I got some snacks in the car, I think,” Nic continues. “Protein bars.” He gets to his feet. “We should stick together though. In case the Zigzag guy comes back.”

“What’s a protein bar?” Leo says.

Nic winks at him. “Like a boring chocolate bar. Come on – let’s get outta here.”

TWENTY-ONETeagan

“I can feel the storm,” Leo says.

It’s the first words he’s spoken since we started walking again. For half an hour now, we’ve been trudging in silence down the river. Nic and Leo in front – the boy won’t move more than a few feet away from Nic. Me in the middle. Annie somewhere in the rear. Now, Leo has stopped walking, squinting up at the low-hanging, heavy clouds. It’s around four o’clock.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all,” I mutter.

“We can see the clouds too, bud,” Nic says.

“I mean like…” He hunts for the words. “It’s like, talking to me.”

I stare at him. “The clouds are talking to you.”

“Yes.” He gives me a solemn nod.

“Can you…?” I hunt for the right words. “Can you control it? Control the lightning from here?”

“Um… I dunno. Maybe.”

“How about we leave that one alone for now?” Nic claps him on the shoulder, keeps walking.

We weave through more groves of thick bamboo, pick our way between piles of trash and bushes so overgrown and interlocked that they require huge detours. I’ve completely lost track of where we are – I think we’re in Elysian Valley, just south of Glendale, but for all I know we could be way past it.

I am somewhere north of tired. Between the meth comedown, the fight with the Legends and some jerk-off planting illusions in my brain, it’s taking every ounce of effort I have just to keep walking.

If you’d found a way to become a cook, this would never have happened. You’d be in a kitchen somewhere, probably paying your dues working in prep, debearding mussels or chopping cucumbers or cleaning grease traps or squeezing julienned potatoes to get the liquid out so the chef can make rösti which of course she’d let you taste and—

Right then, my right foot snags something, and I trip.

It happens in slow-motion. I actually see the ground rushing up to meet me. I have enough time to think that this is the time I go down for good – if I end up horizontal, I’m not getting up again.

Annie catches me, grabbing my arm in an iron grip. I wobble in place, the world swimming in front of me, a nice little shot of adrenaline zipping around my system.

Holy shit. I think I just fell asleep for a