Page 30 of Wasted

We both glanced at the large piece of siding lying beside her. It wasn't from her house or stable, which meant the winds had carried it from somewhere else, and considering Taylor's parent's land was over seventy-five acres, who knew where it came from.

"You're bleeding," I said, looking over her for any other damage. "We need to go." She nodded, and I didn't wait for her. I pushed to my feet, pulled her over my shoulder, and ran to the four-wheeler. Setting her down, I jumped on, flicking a glance around while she climbed on. The wind and rain are so loud I can't hear myself think. "Hold on," I shouted as I hit the throttle. Taylor's house was only a few minutes away, but the rain hitting our faces felt like tiny shards of glass slicing through our skin. I tried my best to use my body to protect hers.

I slid the four-wheeler to a stop in front of her storm cellar and killed the engine. "Go," I shouted, and we both made arun for it. I pulled at the lever and jerked open the doors, and we both climbed down, letting the door close behind us, and everything went quiet.

Taylor flicked on the light, her eyes scanning the shelves as she wrung water from her hair. "I think we have some towels."

The storm cellar was a twelve-by-twelve room with a small couch, a folded-up cot, two tall shelves with several clear tubs filled with different necessities in an emergency, and a few green lawn chairs. This wasn't Taylor and I's first storm together, but it was our first time stuck in a confined space since she decided to lie about everything and marry my brother, and that felt slightly overwhelming.

"They should be in one of these," she said, pulling a large blue tub down as blood trailed down her arm.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, I walked over to her and stopped her. "Go sit down and let me clean this up." My voice was soft and gentle. I hated that she was hurt, and I hated it more that I'd let it happen. Her gaze flicked to her arm, and her eyes went wide. "Where's the first aid kit?"

"On that shelf." She pointed towards the first of the tall shelves as she dropped into one of the chairs.

I grabbed the red kit and a roll of paper towels before kneeling at her side. "This looks like it might need stitches," I said, working to clean up the gash in her arm.

"It's fine." She smiled, her gaze shifting to meet mine. "Nothing some antiseptic and some bandaids won't fix."

My eyes shifted back to the wound, but hers lingered. "What?"

Her eyes searched mine. "Why did you come here?"

"What do you mean?" I knew what she was asking, but I was stalling because the truth hurt way too much.

"I mean, why would you come here and help me when you hate me?"

My gaze shifted to meet hers. "I'm still really angry at what you and Caleb did, but I don't hate you, Taylor." My voice was low and gentle. "I've never hated you, even when I wanted to." My voice dropped to a whisper. "I never stopped loving you."

Her body tensed against mine, a shiver running through her. "Cole..." The whisper was barely audible over the storm outside.

I cleared my throat, cutting off her words. That tiny confession made me vulnerable, and I hated feeling vulnerable, especially to someone who destroyed me and had the ability to do it again. "That should do for now. Once the storm is over, you should have it checked out." I pushed to my feet, looking down at her. "You should probably see if you have some dry clothes."

She nodded, and I was thankful she had dropped whatever she was going to say.

I packed up the first aid kit, and she pushed out of the chair and moved back to the tubs, quickly digging through them.

"Here," Taylor said, tossing me a towel from a nearby box before pulling one out for herself. "I think my dad had some clothes down here that you could borrow."

"I'm fine." I pulled off my baseball hat and tossed it into a chair as I swiped the towel over my face and hair.

"Oh," she sighed, but the tone in her voice had completely changed as she pulled a grey t-shirt out of a box and held it up. "It's yours. This is your box."

"It's still down here?" After we got caught in a massive downpour that ended with tornado sirens, her dad suggested I keep a box with some stuff, too.

She nodded, shoving the box my way. "But it looks like my box was taken out."

I pulled the oversized grey shirt out and tossed it to her. "Here. I'm pretty sure you stole that from me a long time ago."

She smiled, catching the shirt. An awkwardness filled the room as we both realized there was nowhere to change privately.

"I'll turn around so you can change." It wasn't like we hadn't seen each other naked. If this had been before, I would have taken her clothes off for her, but it was different now. She wasn't mine.

I worked myself out of my shirt. "So you haven't been down since..."

"Yeah," she said. "The last time I was down here was with you when we got caught in the storm on our horses when the sirens started."

I laughed, remembering using the towel to dry myself. "The time the storm blew something over the door, trapping us, and we had to wait for your dad to let us out."

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