Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(48)
Author: Cambria Hebert

An hour later, a heavy rainstorm seemed to appear out of nowhere. The blue in the sky was taken over by angry dark clouds and swirling winds.

I smirked at the idea of her getting rained on even as my ears listened for her retreat back into the house.

Not too much later, thunder rolled overhead and the rain began to fall in a downpour. She still wasn’t back. Worry crept into me, and I put the book down and looked out the window, overlooking the direction the path would have taken her.

Through the heavy rain, I saw her, a moving spot maybe half a mile from the house. She was moving quickly, trying to get out of the storm.

And then she fell, her body disappearing completely from sight.

A low swear tripped out of my mouth and before I knew it, I was grabbing a slicker off the hook by the door and racing out into the storm. As I went, lightning lit up the sky, creating an angry electric streak that bolted toward the ground. The crack of thunder that followed left a hollow ringing in my ears.

I picked up my pace, worrying she was hurt and lying there out in the open, vulnerable to the elements.

“Frankie!” I yelled, my voice cutting through the gusting wind. My shirt and jeans were soaked in minutes, my shoes were saturated, and I felt like I was walking in a puddle. Wet grass slapped against my legs and water dripped into my eyes.

I heard her call my name, the wind carrying the sound over to my ears. I ran faster, tapping into the reserve of energy my body always had, zipping over the wet grass across the slopping ground.

I stopped when I saw her. She was trudging up one of the slight hills, mud and rain soaking her hair and body. She looked like a drowned cat.

She was a few yards away when she saw me, her feet quickening their pace, but in her haste she slipped again.

She flung out her arms, trying to steady herself, to catch some balance and not fall, but there was no use. The ground was too slick and the mud too slippery.

I caught her around the waist just before she landed in a heap.

“I told you not to come out here alone,” I snapped, pulling her back onto her feet.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to come after me!”

“Shut up!” I yelled, yanking the slicker down over her head and putting up the hood. My heart was still beating too fast from watching her fall before.

“I’m already soaked,” she yelled over another rumble of thunder.

I didn’t bother to reply. I knew she was soaked—we both were—but I felt like I had to do something. I tugged her hand to pull her along behind me, and she made a soft whimper in the back of her throat.

I spun around, my eyes sweeping over her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. Her lips were turning an ugly shade of blue.

“Don’t lie to me!” I yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders. Rain was pelting us from every angle and it felt like a million tiny needles against my skin.

“I twisted my ankle.” Her shoulders sagged, like admitting she was hurt was somehow giving in and letting me win.

Which it was. She should have listened to me in the first place.

I turned around and crouched down, giving her my back. “Let’s go,” I called out.

She hesitated only a moment before climbing onto my back and wrapping her arms and legs around me. “Hold on!”

Even though I kind of liked having her wrapped around me, I moved quickly, trying to get us away from a storm that was far too violent.

I let us into the mudroom, setting her on a wooden bench by the door and pushing the wet hair off my forehead.

“Going off alone like that was stupid!” I burst out, anger ripping through me. Now that we were out of the rain and she was safe, I was going to let her have it.

“I didn’t know it was going to downpour!” she yelled back.

“You should have been more careful!”

“Why are you yelling at me?” she shouted, yanking off the slicker and throwing it on the floor. She was streaked with mud and dirt and her teeth were beginning to chatter.

My anger drained away like water in a sink. I knelt down and unlaced her ruined sneakers. “It’s hard not to yell at you,” I said gently.

She snorted but then made a sound when I slipped her shoe away from the ankle that she twisted. It was red and slightly puffy, but it didn’t look too bad. I used a nearby towel to gingerly pat the water and mud off the sore part. “It doesn’t look that bad. Should be fine by morning. We’ll get some ice on it.”

She didn’t say anything and when I looked up, I caught her staring at me, watching me with this strained look on her face.

“Are you hurt somewhere else? Did you hit your head?” I reached up and fingered her scalp, searching for cuts.

“I’m fine.” She caught my wrists and pulled them away from her head. “Why is it whenever I try to get away from you, I end up in your arms instead?”

“Because you’re clumsy and pigheaded?” I offered.

She rolled her eyes.

“You went out there to get away from me?” I asked seriously. Something in my stomach churned and that feeling in my chest was back.

She pushed at her wet hair. “It’s easier that way, you know?” she said quietly. “Like you said, there is no future for us.”

That’s why she went outside. Why she didn’t want me to go with her. I hurt her. Telling her that I didn’t want her actually hurt her feelings.

Having power over another person’s emotions was always something I reveled in. But not now. Not this. It seemed like an awful lot to bear… I didn’t want the responsibility of knowing I could hurt her. Hell, I just ran out into a raging, angry storm after her to keep her from getting hurt. Now she tells me she was out there in the first place because of me.

I dealt with her feelings the best way I knew how. Not at all.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

If the change in topic surprised her, she didn’t show it. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get changed and I’ll make some spaghetti and you can ice that ankle.” I helped her up the stairs and into her room where she assured me she could manage, and so I left her, going to change into a dry pair of jeans and shirt.

The fire was almost out so I added some more wood to it and then went to boil the water for the noodles. Frankie appeared when I was pulling a jar of sauce out of the cupboard. She grabbed some ice out of the freezer and hobbled over to the table and sat down, propping up her foot.

“I don’t think it’s that bad. Barely hurts anymore.”