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

wrong move will break them. “Those people… if I hadn’t… If I hadn’t gotten up in Africa’s face, they might be—”

“No.” I’m surprised at how firm my voice is. “Listen to me. That is not your fault. I don’t even think it’s Africa’s. No one knew Leo could call down fucking lightning bolts like that – not even him. That was a bad situation, and yeah, people died—”

Saying it like that, just stating it, makes my voice catch. Up until now, I hadn’t really had a chance to think about those dead National Guard soldiers. Now… it’s like I’ve ripped the scab off a fresh wound.

I swallow. “People died, but it was an accident. That’s all.”

“Does Leo know?” he says, his voice dull.

“I don’t think so. He passed out pretty much straight away.”

“Should we tell him?”

It’s a long time before I answer. “I don’t know.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Because think about it: how on earth are you supposed to put that on a child? Especially when you’ve only known him a short time? How can you possibly have that conversation?

Nic clears his throat. “Just… just watch what you’re saying sometimes, OK? With the race stuff, I mean.”

“I will. I promise.”

He nods, still not looking completely satisfied. And the silence that falls is still hella uncomfortable.

Nic makes a strange sound – a kind of bemused hmf. When I look across, he’s shaking his head.

“What?”

“Just a weird fucking night man. The race thing is probably the only part of it I actually do understand.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, so I settle for an answering hmf.

“Yo, what kind of fucking name is Zigzag Man, anyway?” he says.

“I dunno. Leo never really said how he got it.”

“We should ask him again.”

“Honestly, at this point, I don’t actually care. I just want this done with.”

“Got that right.”

We’re both trying to sound light, just two friends having a chat by the fire. But there’s an undercurrent to our words. A worry. No: a fear.

Fear that the Zigzag Man, stupid name or not, might come back.

“What did he make you see?” Nic asks.

The question catches me off guard. “Huh?”

“When he got in your head.” He looks away. “I mean, if it’s not too personal. You don’t have to tell me if—”

“No, it’s OK.” And it is. Weirdly, it’s kind of a relief. I’m not going to tell Nic about Jonas – that’s mine, something I want to keep very close. But Carlos and the fire have been preying on my mind since I saw them. That’s an experience I thought I’d dealt with, and it wasn’t a lot of fun to have to relive it. Nic knows about what happened, and maybe talking about it will take away its power.

When I tell him, he grimaces. “Fuuuuuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Teags. He just pulled that out of you? How?”

I shrug. “Like I said before man, we don’t have a WhatsApp group. I don’t know how this dude does his voodoo.” I stop, surprised at my use of Annie’s term.

“Well, still. Sorry you had to go through that again.”

“How about you?” I say.

It’s a long time before he answers – long enough that I start to wonder if it’s me who should be apologising for asking personal questions. But then he says, “I saw us.”

“What you mean?”

“That’s why I was so surprised you saw Carlos. Because that’s a bad thing, right? And what I saw wasn’t bad at all. It was just…”

“You guys doing good?” Grant says, over from the other side of the fire. I didn’t even see him come by.

Nic flashes him a thumbs-up. After Grant goes back to his conversation, Nic says, “You remember the time we went to that beach bar up in Malibu?”

“The whitest bar on earth?” I smile, appreciating the irony.

“That one. It was a good day though, right? Good food.”

“Please, those tacos were meh. But I did have fun though.”

“So did I. And that was the point. I didn’t want to leave this… dream or vision or whatever that the Zigzag dickhead made me see. I wanted to stay there for ever.” He pauses, chuckles. “In the whitest place on earth.”

“Yeah.”

He side-eyes me. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, that’s it?”

“No comeback?”

“What do you want me to say? It’s a nice memory.”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“I’m not always going to make a dumb comment. I know I do it a lot, but I’m trying to take things more seriously, and…”

And then it all spills out of me, the words almost tripping over one another. “I’m trying to be better. OK? And… and make the right decisions, like everybody tells me to. But half the time I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, and it always feels like there’s no correct answer, for any of this. Every single thing I do, there’s going to be somebody who gets pissed off, or some fucking thing that’s going to go wrong.”

My voice cracks, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. Christ, I’m tired. It’s a feeling that drills right down into my bones.

“I’m making myself think. That was what Reggie, and Annie, and everybody always told me to do. Stop just reacting, and actually think before you do shit. But it doesn’t help. It just makes things worse.”

“Welcome to being an adult.”

The silence this time isn’t comfortable… but it’s not uncomfortable either. It’s like it gets out the way, the space filled by the crackle of the fire and the soft murmur of conversations, the distant hiss and burble of the river.

“You just…” He thinks for a moment. “You gotta just fall back on logic. A, then B, then C. No matter what, there’s always an answer that makes sense.”

“OK, Spock.” I wipe my face.

He rolls his eyes. “Well, so much for no comebacks.”

“Answer me this then. What should I have done when I found Leo? What was the logical choice?”

“I—”

“I’ll tell you. Logically, I should have handed him over to Tanner.”

I force him to meet my eyes. I want him to understand. “But you know what? That