"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞."
Lou Johnston and Eddy "Boone" Higgins, two former best friends whose paths diverged after high school. Now, years later, they find themselves inexplicably draw...
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I sat on the edge of the bed in my hotel room, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. The words echoed in my head, mocking me with their hollowness.
"I told you I'd always come back to you, didn't I?"
Yeah, Boone had come back alright. But at what cost?
I should've known better. The biggest storm Blanchard and the surrounding towns had seen in years, and I'd just shrugged it off like it was nothing. Some analyst I was, ignoring the warning signs right in front of me.
The day had started normally enough. I'd gone to see the team off, my stomach a knot of worry I tried to hide behind a forced smile. Boone had been all grins and excitement, his energy infectious as always.
"Don't you worry that pretty head of yours, Lou," he'd said, giving me a quick hug before jumping into the chase vehicle. "We'll be back before you know it, with some amazing footage to boot!"
I'd nodded, pushing down the nagging feeling in my gut. Who was I to rain on their parade? This was their passion, their life's work. Who was I to question it?
But as the day wore on and the storm intensified, that feeling grew. The news reports were getting grimmer by the hour, talks of widespread destruction and chaos. And still, no word from the team.
It wasn't until late in the evening that they finally rolled back into town. I'd been waiting at the Owens' farmhouse, trying to keep busy and not let my imagination run wild.
When I heard the vehicles pull up, I rushed outside. The sight that greeted me made my heart sink.
The chase vehicles were battered, covered in dents and scratches. But it was the team themselves that really hit me. They looked... shell-shocked. Haunted, even.
Boone was the last one out, moving slowly, like every step hurt. When he looked up and saw me, his face crumpled.
"Lou," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."
I rushed to him, my hands hovering uncertainly. "Sorry? What the hell happened? Are you hurt?"
He shook his head, but it was Dexter who answered, his usual calm demeanor cracked.
"We lost control," he said, his voice rough. "Got too close to the storm. If it wasn't for Boone's quick thinking..."
He trailed off, but I could fill in the blanks. They'd nearly died out there, chasing their storm.
And now, hours later, I was still trying to process it all. The fear, the relief, the anger... it was all swirling inside me like its own little storm.
A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Louise?" It was Jase. "You okay in there?"
