Can't Hardly Breathe

by Gena Showalter

  He'd lived in Oklahoma long enough to know the sound of an incoming tornado.

  "If you live in or around Strawberry Valley, take cover," Thea yelled. "Take cover right now. This is an F-3, at the very least. There's going to be damage. Any homes in its path will be destroyed."

  The feed stopped, the screen going blank, and his heart nearly burst from his chest. When he'd told her to live stream, he'd meant from the safety of her room. He hadn't wanted her to go out in the storm and endanger her life. What if he...lost her?

  He'd seen death a thousand times, in all its incarnations. Disease. Violence. His granny had died in her sleep with a smile on her face, drifting away peacefully. But he was not prepared for this.

  Thea had clearly been inside a vehicle, moving away from the coming tornado, which was her only saving grace. If Daniel were with her, he would be shaking her, screaming at her, then covering her with his own body to keep her safe. But she didn't want to be kept safe. She wanted to be in the middle of the action.

  "--funnel clouds," he heard her say, the screen alive with images once again. "Yes, yes, they're forming a second tornado, and look! They're dropping! Search the center of the winds. Can you see? Can you see?" She sounded excited.

  She wasn't going to be able to escape the worst of the wind or the flying debris. Power lines were flashing as they fell. Damn it! Tornadoes were faster than cars, the absolute worst place to be. The metal could compact, smashing the people inside.

  He was roughly two hours away from her. If he left now, he would reach her after the storm had passed. If he stayed put, he risked not being able to reach her at all. Roads were going to flood, and debris was going to form blockades. That was just the way things worked.

  Welcome to Oklahoma.

  He pocketed his phone as the website continued to stream, cut out and stream again; he ran outside. No hail, so no problem. But the valet attendants were nowhere to be seen. They were probably inside, staying warm and dry. They were smart. At their stand, Daniel shot the lock preventing him from getting his keys. When the cabinet door swung open, he dug through the contents until he found what he needed.

  He removed the lid from a nearby garbage can and held it over his head. He ran into the storm, the droplets slamming into the metal. Once he was under the cover of the parking garage, he ditched his shield and picked up the pace. Took him a minute or twelve, but he found his truck and jumped inside.

  The engine gunned. Urgency filled him as he pressed the gas. He sped out of the garage and down the street. He was downtown, near Bricktown, where some of the streets were one-way. Construction cones and detours led the way and, yes, certain areas were already flooded. He navigated back roads until he made it to the highway, the rain continuing to fall.

  As many combat situations as he'd faced, he should have handled today's danger with aplomb. But he'd never been such an emotional wreck. If Thea was hurt...

  He flew down the road, ready to act if he hydroplaned.

  The website had gone quiet again. He fished the phone out of his pocket, glanced at the screen. It was blank, and his concern for Thea redoubled, becoming a sickness in the pit of his stomach, acid in his veins, a blade at his throat.

  The closer he got to Strawberry Valley, the lighter the rain pitter-pattered, and yet more debris littered the road. Finally he could go no farther. Not in the truck, anyway. Trees, power lines and other vehicles blocked the roadway.

  He was only five miles away, roughly half an hour on foot. He parked on the side of the road, jumped out and ran. The air was thick with moisture, the sky growing blue and bright, as if there'd never been a storm. The ground sloshed, his Italian loafers quickly ruined. Like he cared.

  A family of four was hiding in a drain, but he didn't stop to chat, only called, "You're safe now." Was Thea? He reminded himself she had some training. She knew what to do. But even experts could make mistakes, and tornadoes were never predictable. The funnel could turn in less than a second, and if you were in the way, you were dead.

  He made it to the inn, but she hadn't returned. A crowd had gathered in the lobby, including his dad and the pups, Lyndie, Ryanne, Harlow, Jessie Kay and Holly.

  He petted both dogs and hugged his dad, demanding, "Where is she?"

  Virgil was pale. "I don't know, son. We lost contact with her."

  "Wait! The feed is live again. She's still streaming," Holly said, rushing to his side. As pale as his father, she offered him a laptop.

  Jazz must have been holding her cell phone, because Thea appeared on screen. When Daniel saw she was alive and well, relief nearly felled him--but it was the anger rising inside him that he focused on. There was a cut on her cheek and arm, blood dripping. Her hair was soaked, her clothes plastered to her body...but her mud-smeared skin was aglow.

  She motioned to the destruction behind her, but he couldn't make out her words.

  Daniel searched for visual clues to discern her location and finally spotted something he recognized. One of the only trees left standing was an old oak with a thick base and towering branches. It was on the edge of the town's only park. He'd played under that tree as a child, and he and his friends had notched the bark.

  "Be nice to her," Holly pleaded. "Please."

  "I can't make any promises," he grated, already heading for the exit.

  Carol stepped in his path to stop him. He would have walked around her, but the gentleman his momma raised wouldn't let him.

  "You've got your knickers in a twist." She kept her gaze steady on his, determination pulsing off her. "You think Dottie foolishly risked her life."

  "I don't think it, I know it."

  "Well, that's all well and good, but if you go to her like this, you're going to drive her away or force her to choose you over her life's passion. She's lost so much already. Let her have this. The one thing she loves. Don't try to take it away from her," she pleaded. "Let her be happy."

  He moved around her. Screw being a gentleman. Carol had no idea what she was talking about. Thea needed someone to take the storms away from her or she'd pull this shit again. He would rather she live, pissed off at him, than die, happily chasing another storm.

  He made his way to the park, where he found her standing beside a van, drinking from a bottle of water. He closed the distance, determination in every step.

  "Daniel!" Grinning, she raced over and threw her arms around him. "You're here! Did you check out the webpage? Did you see my report?"

  His arms remained at his sides, lest he shake some sense into her. "How could you be so stupid, Thea?"

  She stepped back, her smile fading. "What are you talking about?"

  "Not only did you risk your life, you worried the hell out of your family and friends."

  "But I'm fine. Jazz knew what he was doing and--"

  He motioned to the cut on her cheek, silencing her. "Not all of you is fine. And the fact that you trusted your ex with your safety--stupid," he repeated.

  "Dorothea!" A grinning Jazz bounded over. He was holding up his phone, shaking it. "I sent the network a link to your page, and they loved you. They want to--"

  Daniel drew back his fist and punched the bastard in the nose. Cartilage snapped, the man howling with pain, stumbling back and nearly falling into a puddle.

  Thea flattened her hands on Daniel's chest and pushed. "What are you doing?"

  He paid her no heed, moving around her to get in Jazz's bloody face. "You took her out in the storm."

  "And she's safe," the man snarled, his voice nasally as blood poured from his nostrils.

  Thea curled her fingers around Daniel's wrist and tugged. "I insisted he take me. I--"

  "I don't care," Daniel roared as he spun to meet her gaze. "You could have died out here."

  She released him and once again backed away. "I don't understand what's happening. You're the one who suggested I live stream."

  "Not from the eye of the storm! You could have died out there," he repeated, then scrubbed a hand down his face.
"Storms are like war. An enemy could be waiting at every corner."

  "I'm sorry I worried you, but this--"

  "No. No buts. Purposely endangering your life isn't okay. Purposely endangering your life to film a storm is worse."

  She bristled. "What are you saying?"

  He ground his teeth. "I want to be with you. Long-term. I don't want to worry about the end--losing you to a tornado." Carol had been right about one thing. He was going to make Thea choose. "It's the storms or me, Thea. You can't have both. Pick one. Now."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DOROTHEA STARED AT DANIEL, certain she'd misheard. No way would he have told her to pick between storms and him. Right?

  So danged wrong.

  He was tense, his expression dark. He radiated concern and fury. "Pick," he grated.

  How dare he! She loved this man with all her heart, but she would not let him be the dictator of her life. She strove for a let's-be-reasonable tone. "You're worried about me, which is why I'm going to give you a chance to apologize."

  As silence stretched between them, her too-fast heartbeat agonized her, keeping her alive but killing her, too. She wasn't ready for their relationship to end. He was finally thinking long-term! But she wasn't going to let him push her around. What kind of future would they have?

  If he didn't back down, they were over.

  "You're choosing the storms," he said. A hard statement, not a question.

  "I'm not. I'm choosing not to cave to such a ridiculous ultimatum."

  She'd learned a lot about herself and her future today. Chasing a tornado had been a major rush, there was no doubt about that; her adrenaline had been thumping and pumping. But in order to do it again, she needed the proper equipment. To acquire the proper equipment, she needed to work for a network. Thing was, she liked being her own boss. All her life, she'd fallen into line, and she was done. So done!

  And she liked the life she was building here in Strawberry Valley. Working at the inn might not have been her dream or passion in the past, but that didn't mean anything in the present. People changed.

  When the storm had passed, she'd found she wasn't as excited about the next one. She'd just wanted to be home, curled up with Daniel. She'd wanted his ring on her finger. Wanted to build a family with him. She had a lot of love to give.

  The thought had led to the idea of using her webpage to keep the residents of Strawberry Valley informed about inclement weather, even posting a daily vlog for paying subscribers. A paying job, a delight and a blessing, all rolled into one. She could stay home with her family, share her love and knowledge, help to keep people safe, and never have to venture into the middle of a storm again.

  But she told Daniel none of that. If he couldn't accept her without strings, if he was willing to trample on what he thought were her dreams, he wasn't the man for her.

  "I will not apologize," he said. "You were reckless and irresponsible and--"

  "The network loved it," Jazz interjected. He held a cloth to his bleeding nose. "They want to interview you for a job, Dorothea."

  A job she would have wanted yesterday, but moving to the city no longer held appeal. She would have to leave Daniel, the inn, her mom, her sister and her friends. Which she had done before, and she could do again...but she didn't want to.

  A muscle ticked beneath Daniel's eye. "Are you going to take the job?"

  "It hasn't even been offered yet," she told him.

  "And if it is?"

  "What would you do if I said yes?" she demanded. Tell me you'll still love me. Or that you love me even a little. Or that you like me and you'd rather I didn't but you'd support me if I did. Her gaze beseeched him.

  "Then I'd say...we're over."

  So simply stated, as if he didn't care one way or the other. This wasn't the sweet Daniel who'd told her how much he would miss her while he was gone. This was a Daniel she'd never met before. Perhaps the one who'd ignored her while he was in the city.

  Flattening a hand over her queasy stomach, she said, "Do you want to be over?"

  "I don't want to fear for your safety every time it rains. I don't want a long-distance relationship. Like I told you, I don't want to dread the end anymore."

  Did he want marriage? Maybe. But... "No, you just want me to forget my needs and focus on yours." Thing was, he didn't want her enough. Something she'd always known but had been willing to overlook...for the chance to be with him.

  "Don't try to make this about me," he snarled.

  "But it is. You made it clear from the beginning we were only temporary." Still her gaze beseeched him. Tell me you want us to work, no matter what. Fight for us! "Now you want more, but only if I do things your way. Always your way."

  This time he was the one to step back. His hands fisted. "I guess you've made your choice."

  Any hope she'd cultivated suddenly withered. Like Jazz, Daniel wasn't going to fight for her.

  "Well, all right, then," she said. She blinked back a well of tears. Tears he didn't deserve! "We're over." She turned away.

  "Dorothea," Daniel said.

  Dorothea. No longer Thea. Tears burned her eyes, but she paused. "What?"

  "There's a folder on the computer at the inn labeled Potentials. A handful of people emailed resumes, hoping to get the job."

  What! "You said no one had--"

  "No, I said I hadn't set up any interviews, and I hadn't."

  So he'd misled her. "Why tell me now? To hurt me?"

  No response, which was answer enough.

  "You're making this easier by the second," she grated.

  Jazz watched her with wide eyes.

  "Get in the van," she commanded.

  He shot Daniel an evil look before obeying. Silent now, she climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. She kept her gaze straight ahead, probably the most difficult thing she'd ever done, not even glancing at her former boyfriend.

  A sob threatened to overtake her, but she suppressed it. Daniel had just shattered her heart into a million little pieces, but not by word or deed would he ever know it. Let him think he was as disposable to her as she was to him.

  "Take me back to the inn," she said, using up the rest of her strength.

  "Dorothea--"

  "Drive!"

  The tires sprayed mud in every direction as he put the pedal to the metal. The van motored forward, going over divots and debris.

  When Daniel was no longer visible in the mirrors, Jazz tried again. "I'm sorry. I know that was hard for you, but you're getting the better end of the deal. You're free now. You can move without complication. And you're going to love working for--"

  "Shut your stupid mouth. For once! You and I are never getting back together. For whatever reason, Charity seems to love you. If you feel the same about her, great. Stop messing around and commit to her. That means no more cheating."

  "She cheated on me," he spat.

  Well. His reason for coming to Strawberry Valley finally made sense. He'd hoped to make Charity jealous.

  "Cheating speaks of her character flaws, not yours. But the same is true for you. You cheat, you suck. So if you no longer want to make things work with her, cut her loose, don't leave her dangling. And if you lose your job because of it? So the heck what? Get another one."

  His hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles quickly losing color. "You don't understand."

  "Because I don't have a network job? Screw you. I paid for your career with blood, sweat and tears. And I had a family. A family I lost. I now have a job I've grown to love." She rested her aching head against the back of the seat. "Do you know why I married you, Jazz?"

  "Because you loved--"

  "No. Because you were the first guy to pay attention to me. My self-esteem was lower than dirt, and I think you knew that. I think you liked that. I did everything you asked, and never tried to impose my will upon yours, because I was too afraid of losing you. But in the end, I lost you anyway, because that's what fear does. It destroys."

/>   Daniel had let his fears destroy their relationship.

  He'd been right from the beginning. She was going to lose him one way or another.

  *

  OVER THE ENSUING DAYS, SV residents worked together to clean up the streets and patch the buildings affected by the tornado. Though the storms hadn't beat a path through the streets, there'd been collateral damage. Even still, plans for the spring festival continued.

  "Though Mother Nature is being a royal witch," Carol had said, "she can't stop us from having fun."

  What was fun? Dorothea didn't know anymore. She'd stopped painting her nails; they were devoid of color. A visual reminder of her constant emotional upheaval? No, thanks.

  To her consternation, the inn continued to host town meetings about the festival. More and more people were spending the night. She couldn't keep up with the demand because she had yet to hire a new employee.

  She refused to ponder the reasons she'd put the hire on hold. If thoughts were drops of water, the amount of introspection she'd done since dating Daniel could fill an ocean. Enough was enough.

  Thankfully, Holly came home from school each day and cleaned any rooms Dorothea hadn't yet gotten to.

  "I'm sorry you're having to do so much," the girl had said the first day. "When you fired me, I made it clear to the rest of the town that I'd torment anyone who applied for the job."

  "I have potential employees." Just need to let go of the hope that--No! No introspection! "But even still...fix it," Dorothea had snapped.

  "I will. Will you forgive me, then? Please."

  "The way you forgave me?"

  "I was stupid, but you're smarter than me." Tears streamed down her sister's cheeks. "I have regretted my actions every day."

  Regret was something she still battled, and she sympathized. And dang it, she was softening. Could she never hold on to a good mad? "I'm not ever going to get back together with Jazz. He's--"

  "I know! And I'm glad. He's an asshole, and you only deserve the best."

  Dorothea had drawn in a breath, slowly exhaled it. The tears she'd kept on lockdown since her breakup with Daniel had finally sprung free. She'd sobbed, and Holly had gathered her close. They'd clung to each other the way they used to do as children.

  "I'm sorry," Holly had said. "I'm so sorry."

  "If you have a problem with me, you come to me. You talk to me."