Winning Love (16 page)

Stuck
.

They were officially sitting ducks.

She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “Damn it!”

Rick, who had already fallen asleep, jerked upright again. “What?”

“We’re stuck.”

“The hell we are.”

“The hell we’re not.”

Thunder boomed overheard and lightning suddenly lit up the darkened late afternoon sky.

Shoving open the driver’s side door, she hopped out, the torrential rain chilling her to the bone. Mac cracked his door open, and she shook her head at him. The what-the-fuck expression he gave her would’ve been comical if this weren’t a seriously bad situation. His door opened wider. She pinned him with a death stare that immediately made him recoil—probably because he had never seen this side of her.

“I’m the boss. Stay in the fucking car,” she yelled over the pounding rain.

The door clicked shut. Smart man.

Before she dealt with him, she had to figure out how much trouble they were really in. As she rounded the back of the SUV, she groaned, knotting her fingers in her sopping hair. The rear passenger-side tire was sunk axle-deep in the mud. Damn it. She never should’ve told Rick to pull over. A brain fart on her part from the shock of him falling asleep behind the wheel. These Midwest backroads became mud pits once the rain started. She’d seen tons of vehicles get stuck by running off the road or simply by pulling over. She
knew
that. God, this was a
huge
fuck up.

Being caught with storms surrounding them was a nightmare situation. What were they going to do?

Something hard pelted the top of her head, followed by another and another. Wincing, she looked up. The swirling grey whirlpool above her made her stomach plummet.
Oh, God!

Thunder crashed as she raced to the driver’s door and yanked it open. “Get on the CB and see if there is anyone around here who can pull us out.”

The paleness of Rick’s face increased her agitation. She darted a glance at Mac, who was watching intently.
Stay calm. Do not let on something is wrong.

She simply lifted her brows in a questioning manner at her partner as nickel-sized hail showered her back and bounced inside the car. Swallowing, Rick slightly nodded toward the laptop, which he angled toward her so she could see. At the kidney bean shape on radar, everything in her stilled. High precipitation supercell. She inhaled a shaky breath and swallowed. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”

Rick was out of the car instantly. She glanced at Mac. A lightning bolt streaked toward the ground in the distance. The thunder grew louder. It was time to see if he was really ready for this, because shit was about to get real ugly.

“I need you to get out of the car.” But he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to her. Seemed to be staring at her forehead. “Mac. I need you to get. Out. Of. The. Car.”

“Why the
fuck
are you bleeding?” he said between gritted teeth, eyes still locked above her eyes. She touched the area, wincing at the tenderness. As she brought her hand away, watery red coated her fingertips.

“I got clocked with a nice-sized piece of hail. No big deal. Now get out of the car.” A gust of wind blew her upper body farther into the interior. “We are in a deadly situation right now called the bear cage. A tornado can drop any second. Get out of the fucking
car
.”

Every bit of color leached out the man’s skin, but he moved.

The bear cage. No one but the chasers who drove armored vehicles went into the bear cage. There could be a tornado on the ground right now and she wouldn’t know it because of the amount of precipitation falling. With rain-wrapped tornadoes—worst case scenario, everything bad that could happen, happened.

And it was happening.

The wind whipped by her, the rain stinging as it hit her exposed skin. Hail bruised her body. Holding her hands in front of her face, she pushed to the back of the SUV. Mac and Rick were already trying to lift it out by the bumper. It wasn’t going to work. Rick should know that, but panic was driving him now. In lesser precipitation, the wheel would’ve been stuck. In this, it might as well be cemented in.

Water poured into her eyes and mouth as she frantically searched for something, a piece of wood, anything with traction. The ground was so muddy she slipped a few times, landing hard on her butt or side. Just as she made her second trip onto her rump, everything stopped. Like a switch flipping, the lashing downpour, the hail, the wind—everything cut off.

No!

“Run!” Terror squeezing her throat, she struggled to her feet. “It’s coming! It’s coming! In the ditch.
Now
.”

A churning rumble, sounding like a train in the distance, reverberated behind her. They had seconds.
Seconds
.

She sprinted past the two men, diving into the ditch a few feet away from the SUV, which was dangerous in and of itself. Lying flat, she covered her head. She felt movement around her, then a large body covered her, pressing her farther down. Strong arms wrapped around her head. Mac. His breath warmed her cheek as he shielded his own face against her.

The rumble grew louder as the wind became fiercer. From the drop in pressure, her ears popped. Debris swished by. One second the sound grew deafening and then it became fainter and fainter. And suddenly they were being deluged with rain and hail again.

Everything had happened in less than a minute.

Mac eased off her and collapsed back on the ground on his butt. Rain water sluiced off his nose and chin as he stared straight ahead, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to feel the hail pelting his body.

She pushed up on her knees and reached out a hesitant hand, wanting to touch him but unsure if she should. “Are you okay?”

His gaze flicking to hers briefly before returning straight ahead, he gave a short nod. She glanced around and saw Rick, pushing up, soaked and muddy, but fine.
Thank God
.

Uncertain what to say to the man sitting unmoving in the driving rain, she rose and went to see if the SUV had been damaged. The vehicle was still stuck in the mud, of course. Thankfully, the antennas and Doppler were still intact. Which meant the tornado hadn’t been very strong and had most likely just sideswiped them. Man, talk about a close call with major luck thrown in.

She reached inside and tugged the microphone for the CB. Thank God it still worked. She put out a call for help, then rubbed her mouth and glanced over at Mac again. He hadn’t moved out of the muddy ditch, though he was on his feet now. The rain had lessened considerably and the hail had stopped, but he still looked like he was being shelled by the storm. A haunted gleam had hollowed his eyes. Deep lines of pensiveness grooved his face. He was standing only a few feet away, but he was
not
here.

A chasing crew pulled up and she refocused on getting the car freed. Within minutes, their Jeep had winched the SUV out of the mud. As they drove into town, soaked, muddy, and shaken, no one spoke.

In the six years of chasing, that was the closest encounter she’d had with a tornado. With the unpredictability of weather, she’d had close calls before, but nothing like this. She glanced into the backseat. Mac was staring out the window, just as distant as before. He hadn’t spoken a word since he’d asked why she was bleeding.

She had a sinking feeling that coming on this chase was not going to help him. She feared it was just going to make everything worse.

A
low moan made Gayle’s eyes snap open and she sat up in bed. Mac was thrashing on the other bed, his sheets tangled around his legs. She shoved aside her covers and rushed to his side.

“Mac,” she whispered.

His body immediately calmed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance at the clock showed it was a quarter after three. It had taken time for his unconscious mind to gather up the energy to torment him. They’d been in bed for hours.

After grabbing a pizza and getting the motel rooms, she’d just looked at Mac and said, “You’re staying in my room tonight.” There’d been no argument. He’d picked at his slice for a while, then excused himself and took a shower. Afterward, he’d gotten into bed. At a loss as to what to say or how to help, she’d taken a shower herself and done the same. Lights had been out by nine.

As she turned to crawl back into her bed, another soft moan sounded, followed quickly by another sorrow-filled
No
. His head turned on the pillow. Soon he would be calling out his wife’s name, and Gayle wasn’t sure she could listen to the agony in his voice again.

Climbing up on the mattress, she perched on her knees beside him. Tenderly brushing back his hair, she shushed soothingly. His brows furrowed as a groan filled the room. “No,” he murmured.

She leaned in closer. Keeping her voice calm, comforting. “Mac.
Shhh
. It’s okay.”

“Gayle!” that tortured voice whispered. “Please. No.”

Lungs locked, she sat up ramrod straight, staring down at him. She hadn’t heard him right. She couldn’t have heard him right.

“Gayle. Please.” And just as before, the plea was filled with such agonized beseeching it filled her own chest with pain.

But this time he was dreaming of
her
. No. It must only be because he’d heard her talking to him in his sleep.

“No!” Then he jackknifed up, chest heaving. Sweat coated his forehead as he stared straight ahead. She froze.

He slowly turned his head toward her. They came nose-to-nose, and she had the hardest time breathing.

“Thank God,” whispered past his lips. Then his hand snatched her around the neck, and his mouth crushed onto hers. Shocked, she gasped, bracing herself on his exposed biceps.

One second he was holding her head captive as he delved deep into her mouth, the next, her back was bouncing on the mattress where he’d tossed her down, his body covering hers. One masculine leg shoved between her knees as he kissed her aggressively. There was desperation in the way he moved, gripped her, thrust his tongue between her lips—as though making a determined effort to banish the demons from his mind.

It didn’t matter that his actions were spurred on by whatever horror he’d witnessed in his dreams, her body reacted the same. Her nipples tightened. and her clit throbbed to life. He worked his hand between their bodies and hooked his fingers in her panties, dragging them down her legs, his mouth moving furiously on hers.

She wanted him with a severity she couldn’t understand—but not like this. After the emotions wore off, he’d regret this, possibly be furious it happened. Ripping her mouth from his, she turned her head away and shoved at his chest. “Mac. We can’t. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Shut up, Gayle. I’m clear.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed his wallet off the nightstand, opened it, pulled something out, then flipped it in front of her face to see.

A condom.

“Do you see how clear I am now?”

Okay, then. She nodded.

“Good.”

He yanked her panties off the rest of the way and moved fully between her legs. Lifting up, he stared down at her, and she
saw
how clear he actually was. The distant, haunted gleam from before was gone. Pensiveness gone. Those had been replaced with a feverish lust completely directed at her.

“I just had the most God-awful nightmare. And I need to be inside you. Hear your gasps. Hear your moans. Hear you coming.” He touched a finger to her. “And you’re already wet and ready. I need to feel your life, Gayle.”

He quickly ripped open the wrapper, sheathed himself, then thrust forward. At the sudden fullness, she arched, crying out. Embedded to the hilt, he closed his eyes and groaned. “That’s it. Make those noises for me. Let me hear you.”

He buried his head against her neck as he slowly withdrew and pushed back. He continued the steady pace, his harsh breath heating her skin. She let out small stuttered gasps and cradled the man in her arms and her body.

“Gayle, you feel so good.” His lips pressed into her shoulder, then a light nip of his teeth. He thrust a little harder, a little faster.

She wanted him deeper. Spreading her legs, she grabbed his ass in her palms and drove him forward. He pushed up on his hands, towering above her as he increased his pace.

Knowing he was watching her was an aphrodisiac. Closing her eyes, she relinquished all control and allowed the feelings he created inside her to tumble out into the open. Moans, gasps, muttered words of pleasure. She held nothing back. Didn’t quiet herself, didn’t care if she woke the entire motel, she gave him what he needed—by simply expressing what he truly did to her body. There was no falseness, no exaggeration. Just an uninhibited response. To him.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he said, his voice strained. “So fucking full of life.” Sliding his hand over her mound, he circled her clit. The sensations inside tripled. “I want to watch you come.”

With that explosive combination, she came fast—long and loud. He took a harsh breath and his steady pumping faltered. He braced his hands on the mattress as he thrust hard three more times, his body quaking, then he collapsed to his elbows with a sated groan.

Still breathing hard, she placed a kiss on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Gratitude—and something else she couldn’t quite name—warmed his eyes as he brushed her hair back. “I am now. I needed this. I needed you.”

He kissed her and shifted his body so she turned onto her side, then he spooned behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she stroked his forearm. Wow. She’d had sex before. Thought she’d understood what it was just to kick back and enjoy the act. The first time she’d been with Mac, she realized she’d held a part of herself back.

Tonight she’d set herself free.

And most likely free to have her heart crushed in the process.

Chapter Nine

F
rom the moment he’d woken this morning to find Gayle already dressed in khaki shorts and a pale green tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, sitting cross-legged on her bed tapping away on her laptop, Mac had noticed a new tension in her. No doubt it had to do with the unexpected turn of events last night. But after he’d woken from the nightmare to find her beside him, safe and alive, he couldn’t keep from reaching for her, much less stop what happened afterward. And he didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

The terror of yesterday’s events had catapulted him into the moment and with its stranglehold had kept him from sinking into the past. As she’d run past him screaming a tornado was coming, he had not been paralyzed with fear—instead he’d been pushed into action. Compelled to protect the woman he’d grown to care for.

Last night, for the first time, his nightmares hadn’t revolved around finding Ally, they’d been about losing Gayle. Definitely things he was going to have to think about…but one thing was clear, a corner had been turned.

As the day wore on and they drove the five hours north toward the intersecting borders of Oklahoma, Texas, and Arkansas, her shoulders had grown even more rigid. Once they made it over into Arkansas, they’d camped out in the parking lot of a truck stop for the last three hours. Gayle became obsessive over the laptop and her assortment of different radars and numbers. A few minutes ago, she and Rick had released a weather balloon into the air.

And that was when the mood in both of them had changed. As usual their technical speak went over Mac’s head. Something about separate things converging, cap levels eroding, and a bad feeling. But it was then he finally realized Gayle’s withdrawn attitude didn’t have anything to do with last night.

Something was brewing. Now.

Something horrible.

“Okay. Why the hell are we sticking around here?” he finally asked.

Everything about today was off. After the long, hurried drive to get here, they just sat on the hood of the SUV and watched the sky. No one talked. Every minute that crept by in the edgy quiet increased Mac’s damn stress. Two storm chasers not excited about the chase and having “bad feelings” was seriously fucked up.

Gayle studied him, almost as though trying to decide if she was going to let him in on the secret or not. Her shoulders slumped. Fuck. She’d decided to tell him. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “We’re waiting, Mac.”

“On what?”

“The explosion.”

That sounded…bad. “Can you be a little more specific?”

She shifted on the hood until she was turned toward him. “About an hour ago, the Storm Prediction Center issued a PDS. Particularly Dangerous Situation. The SPC only issues a PDS when the elements are ripe for very severe weather or major tornado outbreaks.”

“How could it possibly be worse than yesterday? And yet, you guys have never been this tense before. Why?”

“These types of storms—” She inhaled. “Emerald Springs was a PDS.”

Mac reared back and his stomach twisted sickeningly.

“It might not happen,” she quickly added. “It all depends on how things play out. But, yeah, it could get a lot worse than yesterday. And if it does, we’re in the epicenter of where it’ll go down.”

“Shit,” he muttered, the hair actually standing up on the back of his neck.

As if she could read his thoughts, she said, “I’m sorry Mac.” Regret burned bright in her eyes. “But I can’t leave you behind. Not this time. And I can’t send you off. You’re safer with us.”

Not an hour later, cells started to light up the radar with reds, greens, and oranges. She took particular interest in one about eight miles south. “Let’s go,” she told Rick.

As they reached the darkened edge of the storm, the high tower looming above them made Mac swallow rising panic. For two days, he’d seen these clouds, watched them spawn tornadoes, but even he could see this one was different.

Lightning billowed within the darkened clouds, lighting them up from the inside.

“Storm is moving northeast. Two more cells forming toward the north. Stay with it, Rick.”

For thirty minutes they trailed the storm deeper into Arkansas. Mac stayed mute, refusing to disrupt Gayle’s concentration, especially with her continually muttering, “I don’t like this.”

The ominous feeling grew with each passing minute. A few seconds later, Gayle mumbled a vehement curse. “The cells are converging. We have a rotating core.”

“Fuck,” Rick muttered.

“What does that mean?”

She glanced back at him, her lips pressed tight. “Fucking huge, violent storm that’s trying to become even bigger by inviting more storms to the party.”

After she gave the NWS an update, she said, “We need to move in.”

Tornado warnings for the city of Makersville, Arkansas, started streaming out of the NOAA radio.

As she stared at the storm, she twisted her fingers together. Watching her distress tugged at his gut. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. But that wasn’t a promise he could make. Her worry did show him how much she cared about the safety of others.

Her eyes widened and she fumbled for the mic on the ham and started talking. Mac looked outside.

Not one, not two, but three tornadoes were on the ground.

“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered.

She released the mic’s button. Without looking away from the tornadoes, she said, “You know what to do.”

Mac wasn’t sure who she was talking to until Rick accelerated from the creeping pace they’d been keeping to breakneck speed.
Away
from the tornadoes.

Gayle brought the mic back to her mouth. “The vortices are converging into a single vortex.”

Say what? Mac twisted to stare out the back window. The three tornadoes were now one and it was growing. In little over a minute, it’d widened to what had to be the length of a football field. The one they’d seen the first day was a fucking baby in comparison.

“Why are we leaving?” Honestly, he’d rather keep the damn thing in sight.

“We have a very large wedge tornado on the ground headed northeast,” she said into the mic, but she was looking at him. “Less than ten miles outside of the town of Makersville, directly in the tornado’s path.” She glanced at Rick. “Fifteen minutes before it hits.”

Rick pushed the SUV faster.

“What’s going on?” Mac asked, confused. Weren’t they speeding away from it?

Neither one answered. Less than six minutes later, they raced into the town of five thousand people. Even though the warning sirens were blaring everywhere, and a large dark cloud towered behind the town, people were still milling about. It didn’t really surprise him. The sirens went off a lot this time of year—so often, they became easy to ignore. Gayle grabbed a megaphone he hadn’t seen before, rolled down her window, and eased her body out through it to perch on the sill.

“Take cover
now
. Monster tornado coming,” she repeated as Rick reduced his speed to a crawl and inched down the road, weaving around any traffic in the way. As they passed a police cruiser, she waved it down. The cop lowered his window and she quickly told him what was happening. He got on his megaphone and did the same, taking off in a different direction.

Mac wasn’t sure if it was the presence of a storm chaser vehicle or the crazy woman yelling at them, but folks started moving. People already driving on the roads started taking side streets to get out. As the SUV reached a less commercialized area, Gayle slipped back inside. “Get us out of here, Rick.”

He floored the gas and flew through town just as the tornado made impact on the other side. Rain pelted the windshield, quickly followed by golf ball sized hail and wind so strong it made visibility zero. Thunder boomed as crazy-intense lightning struck the ground.

“We’re in the core. Get us out!” Gayle whipped around to look out the back.

It was the fear in her eyes and her voice that terrified Mac the most.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he ordered. When she didn’t move, he yelled, “
Now
, goddamn it!”

As she fumbled with the belt, the glass in front of her went
crack
and shattered into a spider web of cubes as debris slammed into it. Screaming, she flinched away, flinging her arms up to protect her head. In one swift motion, he released his belt and lunged forward, covering her. Something else bounced off the broken windshield, and a deluge of water and hail assaulted his shoulders and back. He curled himself tighter around her.

Seconds later, the torrent ended abruptly.

Mac eased back, shaking off the sluicing water. Gayle lifted up.

Rick exhaled, his fingers white around the steering wheel. “We’re out.”

Mac sat in his seat, the quaking in his hand making it difficult to snap his seatbelt back on. The image of Gayle screaming and protecting her head was seared in his mind.

“Are you okay?” Gayle asked. “That hail was the size of canned hams.”

“Nothing worse than I’ve taken in the cage.” He tried for a smile at her joke, but by the doubtful once-over she gave him he knew he’d failed. In truth, his shoulders and back stung like hell. And if he hadn’t put himself in between Gayle and Mother Nature, it would’ve been her sweet curves taking the beating instead of his hard fighter’s body.

As Rick circled around, Mac was transfixed by the black swirling mass maybe half a mile away that slowly churned through the heart of Makersville. Slim fingers brushed against his. He glanced down to find Gayle’s hand reaching through the seats and he latched on to it. As she held up the video camera to document the destruction, he saw tears rimming her eyes as her lips moved around words he couldn’t hear.

She was praying.

Rick crept the SUV along. Every once in a while a brilliant flash of blue light lit the air or the inside of the tornado, which was eerily stunning. Flying out from the massive debris ball surrounding the vortex, paper and other light objects swirled around their vehicle. Memories assaulted him of being trapped, helpless, in pitch black darkness. The deafening roar of the fierce winds. Shattering glass, loud crashes, and booms as walls toppled and the roof tore away. The violent sounds becoming muted from the air pressure clogging his ears. The overwhelming smell of natural gas and fresh cut wood. Airborne dirt and debris pelting his skin. Terror-filled screams of the patrons in the freezer, certain death was imminent. He heard it. Felt it. All over again. Like he never had before.

People were going through that right now, right in front of him. He turned to the woman beside him still mumbling a prayer. Her actions had no doubt saved lives today. And could have cost her hers, too.

It took the twister ten full minutes to eat a path through the town. Ten minutes of terror for the people trapped under the destruction left behind by the swirling demon. Ten minutes of terror for those hiding, waiting, and praying for mercy as it crept closer. Mac rubbed his face. Ten minutes of abject horror for him to live through, as well. Helpless. Stricken. Flooded by terrible memories.

As the monster neared the edge of town, the momentum keeping it together slowly unraveled, and it started to lose strength. By the time it moved back out onto flat land, it was less than half its original size. A few minutes later it was gone—as though it hadn’t just destroyed an entire small town.

“Go,” Gayle whispered to Rick. “We can’t leave. We have to help.”

A sumo wrestler might as well have sat down on Mac’s chest from the heaviness suddenly compressing his lungs, threatening to suffocate him.
Search and rescue
. As the SUV turned back into town, the path of destruction left behind took Mac’s breath away.

“Oh God.” Gayle pressed her hand to her mouth.

The town was simply gone. Asphalt had been ripped up. Stores completely leveled. Vehicles looked as if they had been picked up and crushed in a giant’s hand. All that was left of trees were denuded stumps, the tops completely torn away. Timbers were speared into windshields. A piece of fence was impaled deep into the side of a standing cement wall.

It was Emerald Springs all over again.

Rick maneuvered the car around the wreckage until he reached the worst of it. Horror, sorrow, and empathy bludgeoned Mac as he surveyed the houses that had been wiped off their foundations, piles of rubble everywhere.

Oh God, these people. The shock. The fear. The grief. Emotions clogged his throat and he squeezed his hands into tight fists, digging his nails into his palms. His trauma happened in the past. This was happening to people right now, this minute.

Fires had started from gas line ruptures. Cars were perched precariously on rooftops. A crib lay broken on a lawn. A pained groan pressed out between his desperately clenched teeth.

Gayle squeezed his hand again. “I’m so sorry, Mac. I wanted to save you from this.” Her sentenced ended on a smothered sob. “There are people trapped. We have to help.”

“Absolutely,” he managed.

He felt the same way. Felt so much respect and was in awe of her because of her compassion. But that didn’t stop the demons that had tormented him for the last four years from completely overtaking him.

Rick stopped the car. As Gayle opened the door, screams for help punched him in the gut, hitting him harder and with more power than any heavyweight fighter ever had. A man stumbled out into the road, blood coating the left side of his face. Gayle immediately hurried over to him, put her arm around him, and helped him sit down. Rick came up to the man and handed him a water bottle. Where he’d gotten it, Mac had no idea.

But the sight of the two of them helping reached deep inside Mac. He hadn’t been able to help Ally. No one had been able to help her. She had most likely been taken from this world before she’d even hit the ground. But he could help someone now.

He opened the door and climbed out. From where the tornado had demolished a line through the heart of the town, he could see for miles in each direction. People were slowly emerging from damaged buildings on the perimeter of the tornado’s path and were making their way over to the destruction that lay before them, while others were crawling out from under rubble and climbing out of storm shelters.