The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) (42 page)

“Well, I like that knack,” she confessed, nuzzling her nose against his scruffy cheek.  “I’m worried about Devin.”

“Me, too,” he murmured with a sigh.  “Maybe if I find my truck and it isn’t in too bad o’ shape, we can go check on him.  If worse comes to worse, we always have your car, beautiful.”

“You’re right.  I just don’t know how bad the roads will be; my car can’t handle rough terrain.”

“Then maybe we ought to add that to our list of things to do in the future, huh?  We’ll get you a Daisy Duke sort of jeep, huh?”

She laughed gently.  “I’d like that very much.”

Knowing they were going to check on Devin made her feel one hundred percent better in spite of the blow their town had taken from the storms.  It was so strange to feel so strongly about a guy she’d once disliked, but Devin had grown on her. 

At one time she couldn’t have cared less what happened to him – perhaps she even would have wished ill on him, but not now.  They’d shared so much together, experienced wonderful things with one another—and with Nick.  She would have even gone as far as to say her feelings for him were deeply romantic.

They were the same feelings she had for Nick, and she wasn’t fond of the idea of losing either of them.

Please let him be okay.

“Hey, Nick!” Justin shouted excitedly, racing back to them.  “I think your truck is over there.”

“Over where?” Nick asked, lifting his head and looking around.

“There,” Justin repeated, pointing towards the side of the house.  “I can see the hood.”

“What?” He laughed, a strange look on his face.

Pulling away from her, he ventured towards the side of the house with Justin right on his heels.  Curiosity got the best of her and she followed after them, wondering how it was possible for a vehicle to be carried such a distance without slamming into her house.

“It’s a miracle,” Mrs. Harrington said when she finally caught up with them.  “Another two feet and that thing would have destroyed your house, Kelly.  It’s like God just plucked it up and conveniently placed it right there.  How odd.”

“How odd is right,” Nick said as he surveyed the damage.

The truck seemed to be just fine—just like the house.  If anything, the only thing that seemed to have been destroyed in the truck’s descent was the lawn.  A few patches of grass were missing and one of her flower plots had been shattered.

Everything else was perfectly untouched.

“That’s amazing,” she mumbled in disbelief.  “How can something like that be possible?”

“I really don’t know.” He crouched by the shattered flowerpot and shook his head, obviously just as confounded as the rest of them.  “That took a pretty damn big miracle.”

“Yeah.  A pretty damn big miracle,” Justin echoed, which earned him a sharp glare.

“Justin!  Don’t say that word.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“No, that was my bad.” Nick straightened up and dusted his hands off on the thighs of his jeans, giving her his best boy-ish grin.  “I shouldn’t have said that in front of him, darlin’.  Do you forgive me?”

She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of the landline ringing inside caught her attention.

“That may be Devin!” She gasped, feeling her heart leap up her throat.  “Excuse me, Mrs. Harrington—oh, I’m sorry.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

Holding Jamie close to her chest, she all but ran back into the house.  Dodging around fallen pictures and little knick-knacks she’d collected over the years, she grabbed the receiver on the fifth ring.

And damn it, she was out of breath.

“H-hello?  Devin?”

“Hey, Kel.  It’s Lydia.  Are you okay?”

Though static was strong in the line, she could hear the fear in her friend’s voice, and it warmed her heart to know Lydia cared so much for her safety.

“I’m just fine, Lydia.  We’re all okay.  Are you?”

I am a horrible friend,
she decided as she switched ears and glanced out the window. 
I should have been thinking of her this entire time!

“We’re okay,” Lydia said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “God, I couldn’t get through to anybody.  The towers must be down or something.  But then I remembered you have a house phone so I thought it was worth a shot.  How bad does it look over there?”

“It’s not as bad as it probably is in other places.  Nick’s truck got thrown into my yard.  Half my roof is gone again.”

“Oh no.  Oh, shoot.  I’m so sorry.  I’ll get Callum’s dad to fix it for you again, I promise.”

“Hey, no.  Calm down.  It’s okay.” She smiled into the phone, wishing only to hold her friend at that moment.  The worry and panic in Lydia’s voice made her feel so bad – she was an awful friend.  “How do things look over there?”

“Bad.  There are houses destroyed in every direction.  Three tornados hit Prairie Town, Kelly.  Three.”

“I know.  It seems unreal, doesn’t it?”

“It’s pretty surreal, yeah.” Lydia fell silent for a moment, and she knew her friend was crying.  Hell, maybe she would have been crying, too, had it not been for her adrenaline pumping so fiercely.  “The apartment complex Ags lives in is gone.  There’s nothing left but a bunch of wood.”

“Oh, my god.  Is she, erm, he okay?”

“
She’s
fine,” Lydia replied, sniffling.  “She came over to our place before it got real bad, but...”

“But what?”

“There were still people inside.”

A shiver raced up her spine and her arm tightened around Jamie as she allowed her friend’s words to sink in.

People died because of this storm.

A part of her didn’t want to accept it. 

Casualties in Prairie Town were so rare.  Most of its residents died from old age, not because of Mother Nature.  Had they even seen a natural disaster on such a large scale before?

“There’s a team of search and rescue guys driving all over town.  I saw them pass by a few minutes ago.  They’re looking for bodies.”

And somehow, she felt sick.

“Are you still there, Kel?”

“Yes.” Her response left her lips in a broken whisper, and her vision blurred.  “Yes, I’m still here, Lydia.”

What if Devin was one of the bodies they found?

A tear escaped between her lashes and it was all she could do to maintain her composure.  There, in that very moment, she knew that losing Devin was not an option. 

I will not lose him, too.

It was bad enough to have her husband ripped away from her – surely God wouldn’t put her through such pain again.

Right?

“I h-have to go, Lydia,” she said, her voice quivering.  “I need to make sure Devin’s okay.”

“He’s not there?” Lydia sounded surprised.  “Oh my god, where is he?”

“He went to his mom’s house.” Her voice betrayed her.  The bravery and calmness she’d previously exuding was gone, fear and hopeless panic replacing it.  If she didn’t see him soon, it was no telling what horrible scenarios would run through her mind.

I can’t lose him.

“Oh, Jesus.” Lydia’s muffled voice was filled with alarm.  “So he was on Rose Drive?  Oh, my god.”

“Oh, my god, what?” She clutched the phone as tightly as possible, feeling the blood drain from her face.  “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean...ugh...”

“Lydia!  What do you mean by that?”

“I heard a lot of sirens heading that way a few minutes ago.  I think...”

“You think what?”

“I think maybe someone died there, too.”

If Lydia said anything else, Kelly did not hear it.  She dropped the phone and raced back outside, stumbling off the porch with only one goal.

“We need to get to Devin,” she said, sobbing loudly.  “We need to get to him
now
.”

—————

D
evin

On the night he allegedly lost his memory, his head hurt as if it had been slammed into a rock repeatedly.  It had taken a strong dose of pain medicine to dull the ache, and even then, days had passed by before it fully disappeared.

At the moment, as he struggled to sit up, he was certain the beating he’d received from his father, this time, would take much longer to recover from.

His father always wanted his wounds to take a little longer to heal...

The world slowly came back into focus as he cradled his head between his hands, groaning softly from the throbbing in his temples, and in the back of his head.  Sounds, so quiet and loud at the same time, attacked his ears. 

What the hell happened?

It took a few moments for him to muster the courage to open his eyes.  The warm liquid on his face was beginning to dry, and in turn his stomach began to churn.  He absolutely hated blood; he’d always hated blood. 

I remember everything.

How long had he dreamed of this moment, the very second everything returned to him?  His brain was finally fully functioning again – shouldn’t he be happy?

No.  There was no reason to be happy about having his memories returned to him.  There was no cause for celebration as every single sin he’d committed played on auto-loop.  Why the hell did he ever think it would be a good idea?

Once his vision adjusted, he turned his head, wincing from the pain, and found his mother sitting beside him.  Her expression was blank for the most part, but there was a look in her eyes he wasn’t sure he liked.  It was unsettling, really.

“Mother?”

Her gaze, which had been on the floor, snapped to him and she smiled as tears shimmered in her eyes. 

“You’re awake,” she whispered, heartache evident in her tone.  “Oh, Devin.  You scared me, sweetheart.  I wasn’t sure...I didn’t know if you’d be yourself when you came to.”

“I’m more myself than you realize,” he admitted, swallowing bile when it threatened to rise in his throat.  Shifting on the surface of the bathroom floor, he hissed from the pain shooting through his ribs.  “Jesus, that hurts.” He carefully tilted his head back to gaze at the dully-lit ceiling.  “How did I get in here?”

“I carried you.”

“You what?” He stared at her in surprise.

“Well, I mostly dragged you.  Heaven knows you’re a lot bigger now than you were as a child,” she laughed quietly, but it was an empty laugh.  “I hope I didn’t hurt your wrists.”

“No.” He subconsciously rubbed them and frowned.  “You didn’t hurt me, Mom.” He glanced towards the closed door and felt his chest tighten.  “Where’s Dad?”

“Oh. Him.”

What did she mean by ‘oh, him’?  Who responded like that?

“Mama?”

She seemed to be in a daze as she lifted a hand to touch her hair.  So dainty and gentle, she palmed the curls on either side of her head and met his gaze again, her expression remaining neutral.  “Hm?”

“Where is he, exactly?”

“In the living room, I think,” she answered, stretching her legs out and wiggling her feet.  “Yes.  I left him in the living room.  It’s quite bad out there.  You should have heard the noise, Devin.  Such awful noises...”

“The tornado, you mean?” He felt something soft brush against the back of his arm and nearly jumped out of his skin.  It was her cat, alive and well.  “Did the tornado hit the house?”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded eagerly, tilting her head to the side.  “It was awful.  But we made it, baby.  We’re safe.  I cleaned the blood off your face for you.  You look much better now.”

Her behavior was so strange.  It gave him the weirdest feeling.  On top of the pain, confusion, and frustration, he now felt a great deal of concern for her, too.

What, exactly, had happened to his father?

“I need to go check on him,” he said, grunting as he stood up.  The room began to spin and he quickly reached out to grab the sink, steadying himself.  “Whoa...”

“You shouldn’t be standing up, sweetheart.” She was by his side in an instant.  Her hand touched his back, stroking it in a comforting manner, but her words sounded so empty.  What was wrong with her?  “Your father is fine.  He’s fine.”

“But you said the tornado just ripped through the house.  How can he possibly be ‘fine’?”

“Everything’s fine now, Devin.  Trust me.”

But the bad part was, no matter how much he wanted to trust her, he knew deep down in his gut something was wrong.  Something was
very
wrong.

Why do I care anyway?  He hurt me.  Again.

The veil had been removed from his eyes; the fog harboring his memories no longer existed.  Every awful, terrible, spiteful, tragic thing his father had put him through was back, and more vivid than ever.  Every scar on his body, every bruise that had long since faded, felt as fresh as the day he received them. 

Was it really so wrong to be impervious about his father’s fate?

“I need to go check on him,” he finally said, feeling her fingers tense against his back.  “He might be hurt.”

She didn’t respond for a long time, but then she released a small sigh and stepped away from him.  “He might be.”

“Just stay in here, Mama.  I’ll be back.”

He unlocked the door and exited the bathroom, almost immediately taken aback by the aftermath of the tornado’s passage.  The hallway had, at one time, been filled with pictures of him and his brothers.  From the top to the bottom, memories of their childhood, ballgames, and graduations had adorned the dark blue walls.

Every frame was shattered against the floor now.

He could see where his mother had dragged him across the floor.  The broken glass was kicked aside -a perfect outline of their journey was visible from one end to the other.

I can’t believe she dragged me all the way to the bathroom.

But it wasn’t really so surprising; she was a good mother.  She had always been a good mother.  One of his earliest memories in life involved her smiling face and her sweet voice.  Even when things were at their worst, she was always there to hold him; she was there to kiss the pain away.

The pain his father had caused.

I can’t believe we survived this.

Upon entering the living room, it didn’t take him long to realize the front door had been ripped from its hinges.  A gentle breeze found its way inside, caressing his heated cheeks as if trying to comfort him. 

There was debris everywhere.  Small branches and pine needles were strewn about, and the glass in the large bay window he’d always enjoyed looking out of was gone.