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He grunts but opens the door, pokes his head out, then exits our shelter. I scramble up to grab a flashlight and follow him.

Crickets chirp loudly, as if they’re in the house, and a few more steps reveal why. All the windows on one side of the house are shattered, glass shards littering every flat surface. Where the heck did these little critters ride out the storm?

“Don’t move.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he points to my bare feet, and I freeze.

He walks down the hall with careful steps, opens a closet door, and pulls out a pair of sneakers and tosses them to me.

“I think they belonged to Moose’s daughter, but they should work for now.”

Lowering them to the floor, I slip my feet into them, then trail Grey through the house.

The power’s out, but the moon is eerily bright and low in the sky, casting shadows everywhere I turn.

I gasp when he opens his front door. “Oh my God.”

Greyson is silent as he takes in the damage. It’s a war zone. Trees are broken at odd angles and lie like dead wood, bobbing in at least five feet of water. His SUV is on its side, bent around what looks like a telephone pole, but the most concerning thing is that his house is now an island surrounded by water, mud, and debris in every direction.

Defeat smacks into my chest as I stare at Grey. His shoulders slump, and his eyes shine brighter than normal in the moon’s reflection.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.

He doesn’t look at me, but I carefully cross the porch to scan the area where Moose’s workshop used to be. Now it’s just a sea of rubble.

“We’ve never had a storm like this, at least not in the time I’ve lived here,” I say.

“Moose will be devastated.” His tone is quiet, subdued. Before I can offer any words, he turns and stalks back inside.

With a parting glance at the swampy yard, I follow him. I only make it two steps inside before he turns to me.

“If the upstairs fared like the downstairs did, the primary bedroom should be clear of glass and debris. You might as well get some sleep. We’re not getting out of here any time soon.”

“What about you?” I may have shown up here not quite myself, but I’m not a damsel in distress most of the time. I can help…if he’ll let me.

“What about me?” he barks.

I’m proud of myself for not flinching. “I mean, what are you going to do? I can help.”

He studies me as if I’m dog shit he can’t remove from the bottom of his shoe.

“Go to bed, Sav. I’m going to find the satellite phone in the storm shelter and try to reach Braxton. Then I’ll make sure the rest of the house is safe.”

“I can do one of those things or at least start the process.”

“I’d really prefer you to just go the fuck to bed.”

“Right, go to bed so you don’t have to face me. Well, Grey, I hate to break it to you, but if me showing up here in the middle of a hurricane didn’t clue you in to the fact that I’m not going anywhere, I don’t know what will.

“We have shit to work out, yes, but a natural disaster just touched down in the only place I’ve ever been truly happy, so if you think I’m just going to go to sleep while you worry about my family and my town, you can seriously just fuck off.”

I stomp past him and head for his kitchen, where I know he has a bunch of notepads stored.

“Whatever,” he calls to my back. “Just don’t die on my property.”

I snort, and it turns into a full belly laugh. We’ve always had a precarious relationship, but I’ll be damned if I allow him to turn us into lifelong enemies now. He may think of me as his devil, but he’ll never be mine.

He storms off, and I get to work. Until the sun comes up, it’s probably safest to stay inside, so I start in the mudroom by his garage in the back, taking notes of damage and any strange scents. Luckily, I don’t smell gas or anything toxic, butsomething in his fridge has most definitely gone bad—I’ll leave that investigation to him.