Taken by Storm

by Tamara Mataya

  That was the type of thing that stayed with you. It was funny how her mom didn’t leave Dad until after he’d retired. They’d never really fought, only grown apart. Anyone would have thought that once he was retired and safe at home, they’d have been able to truly enjoy their lives, together and safe at last. Instead, her mom left. It was almost as if she’d waited until he’d retired to make sure he was safe before she could say goodbye, and move on with her own life.

  Leila couldn’t fault her that—both her parents had moved on and were truly happier. But she’d seen that life when her mother lived it. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do what she did. It would be bad enough in a big city that she loved. But staying in Silver Springs, and being stuck in that life in a place she hated? It made her claustrophobic and want to run and panic in ways the water rushing into the bar should have.

  “Leila?”

  Shit. She’d zoned out. Not that it mattered—he’d only been worried about her feet, not her heart. “Let me go check if they have a lost and found. Maybe they’ll have something I can wear that’s more protective than this getup.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Do you have the flashlight?”

  He shook his head. “It’s still on the table where we ate. Want to take my phone, use it as a flashlight?”

  “No, it’s fine. I’ve got my own.” Though it was hanging from the partition near the pool cue holder on the wall. She swung her legs over the side of the pool table. “Maybe shine it at the floor so I can see my sandals.”

  He obliged. Luckily, the water was only a fraction of an inch deep and hadn’t come in with enough force to move her sandals far. She eased down, trying not to gasp at the icy water, so cold it seemed to bite her feet. She inched her shoes on and slowly slogged her way to her purse. “Thanks.” She thumbed hers to unlock it, and shone it at the floor in front of her. The water was exactly like chocolate milk—there was barely a quarter of an inch on the floor, but it might as well have been a foot for all she could see through it. And slippery.

  “We’ll have to go slowly when we get out of here. It’s muddy.” She reached the table with the flashlight on it. “Got it!”

  She switched it on, and headed straight for behind the bar, despite wanting to go look at the situation outside, see how much worse it had gotten. But no matter what was happening, standing around wasting battery power was stupid. Worse than wasting battery power, was wasting time. The water had risen four feet in a matter of seconds only hours ago. There could be another wave just as big on its way now. The sooner they got out of the bar, and to safety, the better.

  And the sooner they got to safety, the sooner they’d part ways.

  Her heart was just going to have to get over it. She’d done it once before. No reason she couldn’t forget about Ryan again and move on with her life. No reason at all.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  At least she wasn’t acting like the parameters of their non-existent relationship had changed. Wait, why the hell wasn’t he over there looking with her? Some romantic protector, making the damsel squish through the water to find her own armor, while he sat pretty on high ground. Guess I’m not so much functional as decorative. It really was a good thing they weren’t an item—he’d be a terrible partner.

  Outside of the bedroom.

  He’d put his boots on before falling asleep, so he reached her fairly quickly. “Find it?”

  She was pawing through a blue plastic tub. “Whole lot of crap. Wool scarf, a kid’s mitten, an empty wallet, a broken … something. Oh! Yes! There’s a sneaker! It looks a bit big, but it’s better than what I’ve got now!” She handed it to him, and he set it on the counter before shining his phone at her hands, trying to give her more light as she dug through the tub. After a moment, she sagged. “Nope. But one’s better than nothing, I guess.”

  “Yeah. You can still have one of my socks.”

  “Thanks. I think I’ll take it. I was really hoping to find a pair of pants in here, but a shoe is better than nothing.”

  “It’s a good find.”

  She sighed in frustration and pawed through the tub more aggressively. “I mean, there’s a pair of snow pants, but those would take on water, and bog me down.”

  “You’d sink like a scrawny stone,” he agreed.

  “Who’re you calling scrawny?”

  “Did I say scrawny?”

  “Yup.” Her expression was mad, but her eyes smiled.

  “Oh. I meant scrawny.”

  “Jerk.”

  Joking aside, he wished she’d worn something practical. Why was she parading around in a tiny skirt anyway? Was she trying to get picked up? “You really should have worn shoes today. Or pants.”

  “I know.”

  What was her deal anyway? “I mean, it was—is—raining. It hasn’t been toasty warm enough to justify you running around in next to nothing.”

  “Who are you, my dad?”

  “You’d have gotten a few more spankings if that were the case.”

  She reared up to her full five feet nothing. “Excuse me?”

  She’d made it clear by the way she was acting that she wasn’t interested, and it shouldn’t have annoyed him. But her rejection felt a little too close to Melanie’s, and it bit through his restraint. “Like, were you coming here to pick someone up, take them back to your hotel room like you did me, just last night? I’m not judging. It’s a free country, but that’s a bit insatiable.”

  “First of all, it’s none of your goddamn business who I sleep with, or how often I have sex. Secondly, you think the only reason I’d wear a skirt is because I wanted someone to fuck me?”

  The thought of her picking someone else up after being with him the night before pissed him off more than it should have. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t suppress his irritation. He tapped the sneaker on the bar. “Maybe. I don’t really know you.”

  “That’s for damned sure. And what about you, you hypocrite? You were here as well. At a bar. All alone.”

  He snorted. “But I had pants on.”

  “Yeah, but you were probably out trolling for skank just hours after we’d m—”

  “After we’d what?” His pulse shot up. Made love? Was she feeling like it had been more than physical? Was he wrong about her not caring? “Why do you care what I do anyway? It’s not like we’re married. You have no reason to worry about what I do. You were here today trying to find someone else to take back to your room. So what do you care?”

  Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. “I don’t.” She slammed the lost and found tub back onto its shelf, tore the sneaker from his surprised grasp, and walked to the restroom with the shoe, pulling the door shut behind her.

  She’d also taken the flashlight, leaving Ryan alone with only his phone for light. He moved back to the table and lit the candles with a pack of matches Ronna had left. Honestly, it was better that Leila didn’t care. She was already huffy and possessive and they’d been together for less than twenty-four hours. Imagine how brutal she’d be if they really were in a long-term exclusive relationship? Tiny Napoleon.

  Still. Maybe he shouldn’t have called her scrawny. He’d only been teasing, but apparently she was sensitive at the moment. I guess I’d be high strung too if I was going out into a flood wearing practically nothing. It annoyed him all over again. She was unprotected, her feet could be shredded, and for what? Vanity? Was she trying to be all cute for someone? He couldn’t fault her for wanting to look cute in general, she certainly had been hot in that outfit, but her timing was shit.

  And what would have happened if he hadn’t been at Glitters? The only other guys had been Wallace and Faux-Hawk. Would Leila have gone home with that little prick? And why did he give a flying fuck? He’d already been there and done that, and was over her. She was a tiny tyrant, vicious and moody. She was right; who she slept with was absolutely none of his business.

  She wouldn’t have slept with Faux-Hawk anyway. As long as he’d kept
his mouth shut. Which was impossible. Twitchy little asshole talked like he’d explode if he was silent too long.

  Had the group made it to safety yet? Or had they gotten part way and holed up somewhere else? Ryan would never forgive himself if something had happened to one of them because he’d let them leave without him. At the time it had been the best decision for him and Leila not to go with them, but obviously now that had been a giant mistake, and had lost he and Leila heat, a few inches of water, and a few hours of time.

  And if anything happened to Leila now, he’d … He sighed. He didn’t know what. He’d never be able to live with it. The others had left because they’d wanted to, and he realistically couldn’t force them to stay, but Leila had definitely not stayed of her own free will. If anything happened to her, it was one hundred percent his fault for blackmailing her into staying. And yet, he was antagonizing her and being a total dick, just to make sure she got the message that they weren’t going to be an item. Because he was sure she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  Well, no fucking shit. Pretty sure even if he’d wanted to take things in that direction, his actions had lit the dynamite under that bridge. No worries about Leila wanting something more. Good. For both of them. But he owed it to her to get them the hell out of there in one piece, back safely to her family, and not just because Kyle would kill him if he found out he’d been with her and held her back. Shit, Kyle might kill him anyway if he found out he’d slept with his little sister. Not that it had stopped him last night. Or tonight.

  He went back and rummaged through the lost and found just in case she’d missed something useful. Unfortunately, nothing new and helpful materialized out of thin air. There was a canvas grocery bag that they could carry some stuff in, which he grabbed before moving back to the table, and taping the outside of the bag with the leopard-print duct-tape.

  The water was bound to be freezing, especially since it hadn’t been warm and sunny for a few days. But if they were able to get to somewhere dry, even if they couldn’t get to safety right away, they could do the trip in legs, finding places to stop and get out of the water to warm up if it was as bad as he suspected it would be.

  But they had to go—if the water got higher, they’d have a near impossible journey to dry land. As it was, they weren’t in for an easy time of it. Still. A lot of it was psychological. Dark and water made a lot of people panic—together, they made a scary situation, even when benign.

  Unfortunately, they didn’t have the luxury of a benign situation.

  Never mind a paddle; they were up shit creek without a boat.

  ***

  Fucking prick. Her eyes stung, but she refused to shed one tear over Ryan fucking Benton. How dare he judge her for what she’d worn! What the hell was that about? Talk about blaming the victim. How the hell could she have predicted the goddamned river was going to unleash a flood bigger than the town had ever seen, and dressed accordingly that morning? Oh, I suppose I should have worn my giant inflatable pants, and accessorized with my paddle earrings! The mental image of walking around in that outfit made her smile and feel a bit better.

  There was no reason to give a crap about what he thought about her. He had no idea that he was only the fourth man she’d slept with, and that she wasn’t a raging slut. Then again, that was a bullshit way to view the situation and implied that she judged someone who slept with more guys than she had.

  And that wasn’t true. She had friends and colleagues who went out with a different guy every weekend, but Leila never judged them, or thought it meant anything about them, other than it was their choice to make, and as long as they were safe, she … Christ. Safe. She’d slept with him without protection, a rule she never broke. She’d made it as far as she had without an STD because she was careful. She was on the pill, but she had no idea about Ryan’s history.

  Shuddering, she used the washroom, swearing to get tested as soon as possible.

  So romantic.

  Ryan Benton was a huge mistake. He’d helped spark a change within her, but he didn’t make her into a better person. He antagonized her, brought out the worst in her, made her throw caution and common sense to the wind. Being spontaneous was one thing, being irresponsible was another. I definitely won’t make the same mistake when I get back to my life. Leila is here to stay, and from now on, I will play safe.

  At least with her body. Boring old safe Leilani was gone for good. Leila tied on the stranger’s left sneaker, two sizes too big, and grinned. Cinderella’s slipper didn’t fit. Guess this princess was going to have to get out there and slay some dragons instead. Princes lived in fairytales and Minnesota. Leila would get the hell out of this town, and make her own happily ever after. Without Ryan Judgmental Benton.

  She pushed out the door and strutted to where Ryan stood at the table, laying strips of the fancy duct tape onto the outside of a cloth grocery bag.

  “Waterproofing?”

  “Yup. Shoe fit?”

  “Like Tim Gunn said, I’m ‘making it work.’”

  “He a friend of yours?”

  Ugh, straight men. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. We’re besties.”

  “Cool. So if you have anything in your purse worth saving, you might want to wrap it in one of the plastic bags, then tape up your purse. Or vice versa. Or both.”

  “What are you putting in the bag?”

  “The first aid kit, a candle, the matches. We don’t need much more than that in there—we’re unlikely to be out there for very long before we’re picked up. We’ll tape the flashlight so it’s more waterproof, but keep it out as we’re definitely going to need it.”

  “Makes sense.” There wasn’t really much in her purse she couldn’t live without. Actually, she could live without it all, but for convenience sake, her wallet was the only item that she needed. Her metal nail file might come in handy if they had to pry something open, unscrew something, or as a weapon in case of attackers. But that wasn’t likely to happen in deep flowing water. It was Silver Springs, not the set of Jaws.

  “Do you think there are snakes in the water?” She kept her voice casual.

  He chuckled. Fine, maybe she hadn’t been as nonchalant as she’d hoped.

  “Are there?”

  “No. Even if there were any animals in the water, they’d be dead now. The rivers flowing from the mountains, and it’s way too cold for them to have made it. The water would have been too rough anyway. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to try to get up your skirt.”

  “Well, thanks so much for that horrifying new thought to be paranoid about!” She shuddered, picturing all the things beneath the water, free to flow up her skirt.

  “Oh, relax.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with naked legs.”

  He squinted at her. “You know, you could probably put some duct tape on your legs. At least over some vulnerable areas. Maybe just above the ankles, above and below the knees—not the knees themselves, because that would restrict movement.”

  “It’ll hurt like a bitch to remove after, but that could work!” She held out her hand. “Give me the tape.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “No, really. I’ll do it myself.”

  “I’d rather do it. You sit.”

  “Ryan!”

  “If you do it too tightly, you’ll—”

  “Cut off circulation. I’m not an idiot,” she snapped.

  “Goddamn it, Leila, I know you’re not an idiot! I’m trying to help!”

  “I don’t need your help. I can do it myself.”

  “Fine!” He shoved the tape at her and she snatched it out of his grasp and sat.

  He hadn’t bothered folding the end over from the last time he used it, so it took her a second to pick at it and grab the end, and by the time she got it free, her hands were shaking so badly with anger and frustration, she could barely hold the roll. Ryan’s chair made a noise as he slid it back.

  “Here.” He held out his hand, and she handed th
e tape back to him. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat. “Give me your foot.”

  She lifted her leg. He cradled her heel in one palm before resting it on a thigh, and tore a strip of duct tape with his teeth. She tried to ignore the way her skin burned when he touched it, wrapping the other places he’d mentioned with cool detachment that crawled up her and irritated her central nervous system. He grabbed her sandaled foot and began wrapping it in tape, enclosing her foot in a makeshift shoe. It tickled, and his hands on her skin drove her to distraction. But she held perfectly still and said nothing until he began tracing the edges of the tape.

  “Are you done?”

  “Just making sure the edges touch so the water stays out. Relax.”

  “Stop telling me to relax!”

  “Fine, then tense up!”

  She took her leg back, stood, and walked behind the bar. The tape felt weird against her skin, but when she touched the places it covered, they felt more protected. It was a good idea. “If you’re ready with the bag, we can leave soon, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m taking a bottle of water.”

  “We won’t need it.”

  “Jesus Christ, do you have to micromanage everything? I want to take a bottle of water, I’m taking a bottle of water!”

  His silence made her feel like a jerk. She hauled in a deep breath and grabbed a bottle of water.

  “Look, I’m just nervous. This sucks, and I’m stressed, but it’s not your fault. Probably. I’m like, ninety percent sure you didn’t flood the river.”

  He took her words as the olive branch they were and nodded. He didn’t exactly smile, but the frown left his face. “Get one for me too.”