“That looks terrible,” I murmured as I finally realized what was on the TV.
“But luckily not as bad as they expected it would be,” Tommy agreed, pulling away from Tallulah’s hair and moving until his back was to the headboard like mine was.
I suppose he was right, but it still looked pretty terrible to me.
“They opened the spillway,” I murmured. “Won’t that flood the town below it?”
“Yes.”
One word.
Simple. Straight forward. Direct.
Tommy didn’t bother mincing words. We both knew that it spelled trouble for that poor city.
“That’s awful,” I murmured.
“It’s either open the spillway or run the risk of the dam breaking. One option is really bad, the other is disastrous.” He turned to look at me. “Think of it this way.” He stood and gestured with his hands. “The spillway opening slowly floods the town below it, but they know it’s coming and have time to prepare. The dam breaking just decimates the town below it with no warning. Which one would you rather have?”
I grimaced.
Either option was a bad one, but one was definitely the lesser of two evils.
Turns out, I would be facing one of those rock-and-a-hard-place type of choices myself in the very near future in regards to my relationship with Tommy, and I wasn’t going to like the consequences much, either.
Chapter 13
I’m fine. I want you. I miss you. I hate you. You’re a dick. Come back. Bring cake. Why are you touching me?
-Girls on their periods
Tally
There are just some things on this Earth that you never, ever want to do.
Ever.
Two things high up on that list are farting on the guy that you have a crush on and bleeding on his sheets and all over him during the middle of the night.
Today, I did both.
Though not at the same time.
The latter happened when I woke up that morning.
Tommy practically wrapped himself around me while we slept, and today had been no different.
When I’d tried to pull away, he’d held on tighter.
At first, I didn’t notice the slickness between my legs.
I’d chalked it up to the fact that Tommy had a way with his hands, something that he’d demonstrated for me last night before we’d gone to bed.
My mind started to wander to last night. To the beginning of my downfall, causing me to smile.
***
“Time for bed, pumpkin,” I said to my little girl.
My daughter looked over at me like I was crazy in the head.
“If you want to go ahead and call your dad, I’ll get her ready for bed,” Tommy offered.
He looked like every woman’s wet dream.
If I were to describe my perfect man, Tommy would be it.
Tall and muscular with dark hair, a chiseled jaw covered in a dark brown beard, and the most beautiful blue eyes, the likes of which I’d never seen on another human being.
Tonight he was in faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt that fit him snugly in the chest and shoulders but was a bit looser around the waist, and his signature vest, better known as his cut.
“Don’t you get hot in that?” I asked him, touching the top seam just over his shoulder lightly.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “But you get used to it.”
I doubted I would get used to it, but I was sure it was just something that got better with time.
Though, I did have to admit that it looked as soft as butter.
Which I found out moments later as I ran the tip of my finger down the back until I got to the top lettering.
“What’s this?” I asked, fingering the letters.
His eyes never left the TV he was watching.
The news…again.
“Top rocker is the organization: Dixie Wardens,” he murmured, his eyes transfixed in what he was seeing. The devastation. “The bottom rocker is our chapter location. Mooresville, Alabama…as you know.”
“Hmmm,” I murmured. “And what about this patch?”
I fingered a patch that was just above his heart, on his left shoulder, and pressed my open palm to it.
He stiffened and jerked his shoulder by turning away from me.
My brows lowered as confusion at the sudden move, and I opened my mouth to ask him why, but he shook his head.
“Go call your dad.”
I blinked, then nodded reluctantly.
“Okay,” I murmured.
Knowing how to give space when it was needed, I picked up my phone off the table beside the couch, and headed outside to the back porch.
I bit my lip and punched in my father’s number, but my thoughts were all for the man just inside the doors.
The man that was even now taking care of my child like she was the most precious piece of spun glass.
“Hey, baby,” my dad answered after two rings.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, jerking my head to the side.
He breathed out a harsh breath.
“I’ve got some bad news.”
That sounded ominous.
“Okay,” I licked my lips. “Hit me with it.”
“I don’t know how else to say this except to just get it out,” he started, hesitating slightly. “Your house…it’s gone.”
I blinked.
“What?” I asked.
“Swept away in a flash flood. Took the dog pens, my truck, and all of the things that weren’t either in a building or secured in some way,” he murmured. “Your mom and I already called the insurance company, but since there are so many other people filing their own flooding claims, they’ll likely not get to you for at least another two weeks.”
My stomach sank.
“I just paid it off,” I whispered brokenly.
Everything I’d worked so hard for was now gone.
“Yeah, baby,” Dad acknowledged. “I’m sorry, honey. But you can stay here with us. All your things are still in boxes that are now in our living room. Other than Tallulah’s crib and your clothes, you didn’t lose everything.”
I guess that was right.
But I lost my house.
I lost all the appliances that I’d just bought…and was still paying off on my credit card.
And it was likely that I’d lost my job, as well.
Especially after last night. If my parents were affected, then the store that I worked at for my entire working career was likely going to be shut for repairs, too.
How the hell was I going to pay off my credit card with no job? How was I going to pay for Tallulah’s daycare? There was no way that my job at the hospital—a measly two shifts that paid me eight dollars an hour, was going to be enough. Especially since I now had to pay for insurance if I wasn’t working at the gas station.
Oh, God. What a nightmare.
“Did Mom make it home okay?” I asked softly, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.
“A guy on a boat brought her home,” Dad’s voice clearly conveyed what he thought about that.
“She was fine,” I told him, rolling my eyes at the porch roof. “Did she complain at all once she got home?”
According to my father, Mom was a delicate flower, but she really wasn’t. He believed she deserved to be pampered, though, and he wanted her to quit her job with a ferociousness that was quite comical in the right setting.
Now, with my house being swept away from flooding, it wasn’t even remotely funny.
“Was anyone able to get my car?” I asked hopefully.