The Secret Storm

by Peggy Trotter

  “I’m sorry, Hoge.”

  The big man shook his hooded head. “I know.”

  Then his brother leaped up. “Get this doggone boat turned home. Cut the net if you have to, let’s go.”

  The vessel’s engines cut and reversed. The cold air on Ake’s numb cheek only served to remind him that he’d failed his brother again. He turned his eyes to the horizon and began to pray.

  ***

  Stormi gave a muffled scream. This laptop was junk. Her entire podcast was lost somewhere either in cyberspace or hidden on that stupid hard drive. She stood and shoved the chair. It tumbled to the ground. Grrr. Nothing had gone right today. Ever since she’d given a little kissing conference with Ake, her entire day had gone from bad to worse. Her burger had no cheese, she’d tripped on the sidewalk and skinned up her knee, and she’d dropped her keys three times at the door. Man, she was afraid to leave the house.

  She drifted over to the stool at the kitchen counter and parked herself. Ake. He’d been on her heart all day. Like an ache. A first kiss shouldn’t be falsified. She’d taken that from him. What kind of lowlife did that? Only she knew the answer too well. With a groan she planted her head in her arms. It had started out as a game, giving up a pawn to capture the queen. Only, she’d injured the pawn.

  She stood and paced. How could she fix this? From her perspective, it was simple. Just fake it, put them off the scent, move on. But from his viewpoint, it was so much more. How had a simple kiss mutated into destroying an innocent man?

  At one college frat party, she and Marla had made a pact to French as many guys as they could. A little contest for their warped world. She’d won. A hundred and seventeen, and spent the night with the last one.

  She clamped her hands to her head. There were certain things she wanted to forget. That was one of them. Poor Ake. Blessedly innocent. Charmingly eager. The room closed in like claustrophobia. She’d dodge death if she had to, but she had to get out. After pulling on her gear, she set a smart gait towards the corner grill.

  Her guilt hammered her. This icy sidewalk was the perfect revenge. She needed to fall all over again. Bang her head. Be knocked unconscious. She deserved it.

  Once she reached the bottom of Blackberry Hill, right before she crossed over, she caught sight of the Sea Wheat 1 docked below. Ake’s brother stepped to the top step near her bench. He froze when he saw her.

  “You.”

  She stopped. Great. She wouldn’t go down in a horrific anonymous fall. Instead she’d be bludgeoned to death by this brute. Fine. So be it.

  “Delbert, take him in your truck. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Across the street four men walked towards the parking lot. One of them was Ake. They got in a white double cab truck and exited.

  She stepped up to the tall man. “Yes?”

  He looked nothing like Ake. Not one bit. Brown hair, green eyes, wooly beard embracing what could only be a stubborn chin.

  “Leave my brother alone. Got it?”

  Her brows rose and she stifled a harrumph. “I’ll give the usual he-man woman-hater’s reply, just to please you and fit in. Says who?”

  “Oh, I know about women like you. You take a man, and you stomp him.”

  This time the snort didn’t obey, and it flew right out of Stormi’s mouth. “What are you talking about?”

  “My brother, dimwit. Stay away from him.”

  He went to leave, but she grabbed his heavy jacket. “Excuse me, but your brother is old enough to decide for himself who he wants to be around.”

  The man seemed to grow several inches as he inhaled. “Now, I’m going to tell you this once and once only. My brother isn’t like other men. He’s…different.”

  Fury froze her face. “You mean, a dummy?”

  Answering rage rose in his eyes. “Now, look here—”

  She stretched herself to her full height and barely measured up to his chin. But it didn’t matter. Her sense of guilt grew her well over six feet. “No. You listen. How dare you call your own brother by such a derogatory name? He’s not different. He’s a man. And you treat him like a circus freak. What makes you believe that you know what’s best for him?”

  He stepped away, hatred plain on his face. “All I know is, you kiss him, and now he’s in the ER.”

  Stormi blanched, all bravado gone. For a moment the world spun. “What?”

  The man spun and strode to a big red pickup with dually rear tires. Stormi lost no time and sprinted toward him, but he sprang in the driver’s seat. She yanked at the locked passenger door and then banged on the window. The look he gave told her he wouldn’t be opening it anytime soon. With a grit of her teeth, she took advantage of the truck’s pause while Hoge switched the gear into drive. She planted her booted foot on the running board and swung aboard the truck bed.

  At the exit of the parking lot, the truck came to a jolting stop. The door opened, and he appeared at the cab’s back window.

  “Get out.”

  She shook her head.

  “I said, get out of my truck.”

  With her mittened hands she grabbed the rope in the truck bed and wrapped it around her. “You can throw me out if you want, but I’ll find the hospital.”

  He stood there a moment. Something flickered in his gaze. Without a word he jumped into the truck and off they went. Stormi slammed against the tailgate as the truck’s wheels spun and threw stones. She clutched the top, hoping to avoid being flung to the front of the truck when he stopped. No doubt he’d make her pay.

  Suddenly the truck slowed and then braked. She closed her eyes and gripped the tailgate. He came around the bed of the truck. Okay, she’d wanted a head injury earlier. Here it came. The tailgate lowered. There he stood, hands on hips.

  He closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just…”

  She wedged her body up, rubbing a bruise on her knee.

  “He’s my brother, you know. I’ve been looking out for him for years.” He looked off to the left. Then hung his head, reminding her of Ake.

  “I need to see him,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Get in the truck.”

  She shook her head. “You’ll leave me.”

  “No, I won’t. I promise.”

  All fury gone, his earnest face convinced her he told the truth. Without a word she stepped down with his helping hand. He slammed the tailgate shut and thumbed the clicker to unlock the door for her to enter the passenger’s seat.

  When he slid into the driver’s seat, she stilled him with a hand to his arm. “I’m sorry I caused hurt to Ake. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  He clenched his jaw and shoved the vehicle into drive.

  Chapter Nine

  Ake’s pale face and bandaged arm smote Stormi once he came through the emergency door. It was all she could do not to break down and sob like a three-year-old on the first day of preschool. His crooked grin also nearly undid her, but he seemed genuinely glad to see her. Hoge went to the desk to straighten out insurance, and the three stooges left to finish taking care of the boat.

  Despite her resolve, tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Ake. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I reached out too far. It happens.”

  She searched her pockets for a tissue but came up empty.

  “Here.” Ake handed her a red paisley handkerchief.

  A handkerchief? Red, just like her grandfather used to carry. Her sniffles doubled in intensity, and she felt his arm wrap around her.

  “I’m fine. It’s just a few stitches.” He held up his bandaged arm.

  She nodded at his simple explanation, his offer of comfort. He consoled her. Crazy backwards. “I’m just making this worse.”

  Laughter came from Ake’s deep chest. “You could never do that.”

  Hoge walked up. “Come on. They’ve given you some powerful meds. I don’t want to have to carry you into that pole barn you call home.”

  Ake laugh
ed, and the three of them exited through the sliding glass doors. Somehow on the way, Stormi talked her way into riding all the way to Ake’s house tucked behind his parent’s older home on the edge of town.

  Once inside Hoge eyed her. “Listen. I’m only leaving you here because he’s about to be toast. And you owe him.”

  “Hoge.” Ake protested.

  “Shut up. I’ll be waiting in the truck for you.” He pointed at Stormi as if committing a sentence of jail time.

  She nodded. No time to argue. The door slammed shut and she spun. “Are you really going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “I won’t be falling asleep anytime too soon either if you want to stay.”

  “Ake, they gave you painkillers at the ER.”

  He laughed and pulled his hand from his pocket. “You mean these?”

  Her mouth fell open. “Young man, you take those right now.”

  His grin widened. “I’m twenty-eight. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  “I win.”

  Her brow furrowed and she chewed her lip. “Really, Ake. I think it’s best to take them.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe later.”

  “How many stitches?”

  With a sigh he stretched out on the couch. “Fifty-nine.”

  “Fifty-nine!”

  His head flew back in laughter. “That’s nothing. Mom told me I had a hundred and twenty on the backside of my head when I was a kid.”

  She drew closer and perched on the old wooden rocker. “What happened?”

  He took a sip from a water bottle Hoge had left for him. “Don’t remember.”

  “What do you mean you don’t remember? How could you forget one hundred and twenty stitches?”

  A honk sounded from outside. “Hoge will be back in like a hornet if you don’t head out.”

  She glanced toward the door then around the room. The large room combined well with the open kitchen. Very neat and simple. Perfect for Ake. “Do you need anything?”

  “Nope.”

  “Are you sure?”

  His white teeth shone from his wide smile. “I’m a big boy, Stormi.”

  She swallowed. Yes. There was no doubt of that. Ake was all man. “Okay. Promise you’ll take those meds?”

  “I will if I need them.”

  “Please, Ake. Don’t make me crazy.”

  “Fine. I’ll take them. See?” He tossed the two pills into his mouth and washed them down with a gulp of water. “Happy?”

  “Immensely.” Another honk made her stand. “I better go. I’ve already faced the wrath of the mutant gorilla once today.”

  Ake’s brow drew together.

  Whoops. She shouldn’t have brought that up. “Anyway, I’ll stop by again once you’ve had some rest.”

  “Promise?”

  “Of course.” She pulled the door shut only to come face to face with the overgrown, angry primate, otherwise known as Hoge.

  “What took so long?”

  She shrugged, slipped by him, and hurried to the truck. He stomped behind her and got in the driver’s seat. “Oh, don’t think we’re done. You’re going in that house and explaining this whole thing to my mother.”

  “What? I don’t even know what happened. And I’ve never even met your mother.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He slung the gearshift into drive, and they flung snow up the grade to the house on the hill. He exited the truck, came around, and yanked her door open.

  “Out.”

  She unfastened her seatbelt and slid to the snow. She’d do it for Ake. Face the wrath of Mom. He clutched her arm as if she would flee and escorted her up the back walk to the wooden steps. Without a knock, he swung in.

  “Mother. Visitors.”

  A tall elderly woman appeared at the door. Great. Ake’s mother was old. Old. Her face opened in a sweet smile, her green eyes welcoming. A weird sort of twist knotted up Stormi’s stomach.

  “Hoge. What a treat. I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving. And who’s this?”

  “It’s her.”

  Something akin to puzzlement skittered across her face. Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, dear. You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Ake’s witch.”

  Stormi sucked in air like a gasp.

  A sternness crossed the gentle face in front of her. “Hogan Daniel Pearson, what a thing to say.”

  A shadow fell across the doorway behind her.

  “Stop calling your brother names.”

  Hoge gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, Pop. Mom, this is that woman I told you about.”

  But the sternness never left those green weathered eyes. “We’ll not talk any further, Son, until you apologize to this young lady.”

  “Ma—”

  The woman displayed a jaw of iron and crossed her arms across her chest and whispered. “Now, Son.”

  Hoge gulped a huge breath. “I’m sorry I called you a witch. Can we stop pretending I’m a child now?”

  The smile returned to the older woman’s face, and she grasped Stormi’s hands. “Since he won’t grow up enough to give a proper introduction, I’ll do it myself. I’m Maude Pearson, Hoge and Ake’s mother.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Stormi Zobroski.”

  “If we’re done with the niceties, how about you tell her about Ake’s ER visit?”

  The woman’s face crumpled. “What? Oh, Hoge.”

  But the big man pointed to Stormi. What a wimp. “It’s fine. He cut his arm on the boat, somehow. But he’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Hoge?”

  “On the winch. Because of her, his brain was disengaged.”

  Stormi could feel the woman trembling. “Stop Hoge. You’re scaring your mother.”

  “Well, tell her why he injured himself.” Hoge crossed himself with those thick arms.

  The older woman pulled away. “I’ve got to go to him. Stay with your father.”

  Hoge moved to stop her. “No, Ma. He’s fine.”

  The woman went to the back door, pulled on her boots, and grabbed an old coat from a hook. “I’ll be just a minute.”

  “Mom. It’s slick. You’ll fall.”

  As if Maude Pearson had muted her older son, she wrenched the door open and stepped through.

  Hoge tailed his mother, stopped at the door, and then pointed at Stormi. “This is your fault. Durn it. I’m driving her down there. Stay with Pop. Don’t let him out and don’t let him burn the house down.”

  The door shut in her face. Sensing a presence behind her, she spun. A hunched elderly gentleman stood there.

  “Tell the boys it’s too cold to play outside.” He stood and stared at her.

  Stormi glanced around the kitchen, unsure what to do. “All right.”

  He seemed to be satisfied with that and turned to disappear down the hall.

  No, she’d changed her mind. She deserved more than a simple head injury. Much more. A third-world disease, coma, and jail time. Far, far away from Hoge.

  ***

  Stormi tapped her tooth with her forefinger. So the laptop cooperated today, but her brain did not. She stomped like a spoiled child and paced away. The last thing she wanted to do was be here. Doing this. Now. She tugged at the long spike of bangs. Navigating toward the lone window, a rush of cold air met her feet. But she ignored it and surveyed the snowy road instead.

  If she remembered right, Ake’s house was not terribly far. But she should call. And she didn’t have his number. She face-palmed herself. It was the same loop she’d been on all morning. Like a bad computer program. She huffed, tramped to her inflated couch, and flopped down. Grabbing her phone she pressed the balloon to send a text.

  Blather. Not what she wanted to do, and not with whom she wanted to do it. Alan would have good advice, true, but he couldn’t give her updates on Ake. She sent an angry stream of air up and shot her bangs off her forehead. Surely he hadn’t gone to work this morning. Or would that angry, immatu
re brother of his force him? Oh, if he had, he was on the right road for a slap down, that was for sure.

  She growled and rose. Fine. Calm down. She took a deep breath and eyed her boots. Stop the loop and go. In ten minutes she’d parked herself in the car and slid around the last curve to what she hoped was Ake’s house. Those fear-packed reality shows needed to add navigating icy roads in a small four-cylinder car. Absolutely terrifying.

  She slid to a stop against the huge snow bank to the side of Ake’s garage. Thankful to have arrived, she eased from the car. Surveying the driveway, she knew she’d never get out of here till spring with her bumper embedded in the huge snow bank. But she was here now. She swung the door shut and hurried to the front door. Not a spot of snow graced the walk, therefore no impending head injury, she hoped.

  After knocking for a full five minutes, her heart sank. He was gone. It played out in her head like a bad Shakespearean play. That dirty scoundrel Hoge had dragged poor injured Ake from his sick bed and put him on that dangerous icy boat. All this production needed to increase the drama were rats rife with bubonic plague, biting Ake as he pulled in the tangled net. She twisted her lips to the side. Okay, maybe the adding of the horrible disease went a little over the top. Still, it added a little humor to the dismal situation.

  She spun and eyed her car, rubbing her hands up and down her thin leather jacket. Why she’d grabbed her old jacket, perfectly adequate in Georgia, but here, in the stinking Arctic Circle it was—

  “Hey. Stormi. Up here.”

  From the back door of Maude Pearson’s house came Ake. Had she ever been this glad to see someone?

  “Ake.” She jumped and waved. Thank you, God, he’s not on that boat.

  She maneuvered through the hard-crusted snow heaps with care, while he crunched right through. Soon he had his arm looped through hers.

  “How’s the injury?”

  “It’s good.” He pulled her up the hill.

  “It can’t be good. They gave you more than fifty stitches.”